“Maybe someday,” Noah relented. “Not now.”
“Oh, Noah,” Gavin sighed.
“Don’t. I’m fine. You don’t believe me, but I am.”
Gavin’s frown deepened. “You’re not, though. You’re up all hours of the night,”
“You only know it because you are, too.”
Gavin ignored him and pressed on. “You’re up all night, you work too much, you have no social life. You even look sadder, and I didn’t think that was possible. You always were broody.”
Not always. Noah thought with instant regret. The temptation to look Ian up on social media struck, but he felt terrified of what he might find. Was he single? Was he with someone? Was he dead? Was he miserable without Noah? Did he carry his own regrets like slabs of concrete on his shoulders?
“I’m not broody.” Noah forced his melodramatic thoughts aside. “I’m introspective. There’s a difference.” Noah couldn’t sit in the cramped cafe any longer. The noise level rode the line between intolerable and unbearable. “Do you want to go for a walk?”
“A walk?” Gavin asked, blinking at Noah as though he’d grown a second head.
“Yes, you know that thing where you wander outside and move your legs and go from one place to another? A walk.”
“Sure. Yeah. I’d like that.” Gavin rose and wound his scarf around his neck and slid a pair of soft looking leather gloves on his hands. He stood first and led the way to the door, holding it open for Noah, who stepped out onto the sidewalk and took in a lungful of cold, fresh air.
Noah missed the country on days like this, when the sidewalks were crowded with holiday shoppers and the mayhem of the city felt more oppressive than magical. He sometimes entertained the idea of packing up and moving home, but he wondered if he’d be trying to slide into a life which no longer suited him. He’d intended to go home years ago and be with Ian, but it hadn’t worked out. He’d put that dream to rest a long time ago, but maybe he could still have a piece of it. If not with Ian, then someone, someday. A small house with a big yard and a couple of dogs was all he ever wanted.
Gavin slid his hand into the crook in Noah’s elbow, and Noah didn’t mind. They walked in silence for a while, Gavin understanding that sometimes Noah lived in his head.
“Do you still scene?”
The question came out of nowhere and Noah stopped. He looked at Gavin and blinked a few times, then looked away and kept going. For half a block he acted as though Gavin hadn’t asked, but he felt compelled to answer.
“No. It’s not my thing. I’ll always be a dom, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t…”
“You’re a one sub dom, and you haven’t found the right one.” Gavin’s quiet comment hit the nail on the head. It was a truth Noah had acknowledged about himself, but not in so many words. He wasn’t sure he’d even admitted it out loud.
“Something like that, yeah.”
“I’m sorry it wasn’t me,” Gavin sighed.
“Gavin.” Noah stopped and turned to him. “Let’s not go down that road, okay. It’s the past and there’s nothing we can do to change it.”
Gavin chewed on his lower lip for a second before speaking. “That doesn’t mean we forget about it, though. We have a history, Noah. I’d like us to be friends, but I want us to be able to remember things we did together. Things we meant to each other. We were great for a while. We don’t need to pretend none of it existed.”
Rendered speechless, Noah let Gavin slide his hand back in the crook of his elbow and steer him back in the direction they came.
“What about you, Gavin? Surely you’ve found someone by now?”
“I have, in fact. It’s fairly new and I don’t want to go into too much detail, but he’s perfect for me, Noah.” Gavin sighed happily and Noah’s heart felt lighter. It was nice to see someone happy. “Now, tell me about your plans for Christmas. Are you going home?”
“I convinced Dad to come here this year. There’s an exhibit after the holiday that I’m featured in.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Gavin squeaked. “That’s amazing.”
“I can get you a ticket.”
“You’d better.”
Noah went home that night feeling lighter than he had in weeks, and he gave the credit to Gavin. He didn’t miss him in a romantic sense, but hanging out with him had proven to Noah how much of a shut-in he’d become. He might not want to get back into the scene, but he did need to work less, and see people more.
That night, Noah did something he hadn’t allowed himself to do in years. He dug into the large container in his closet and pulled out his yearbooks. He sat cross-legged on his bed and flipped open the first one. He flipped through those pages, looking at the pictures of him and Ian, sprinkled in with pictures of other people he used to know.
He watched Ian grow up. He watched Ian grow into the guy he’d fallen in love with. And he saw Ian as he’d looked the last time he’d seen him. He still couldn’t make himself look Ian up. The shame now was too oppressive. He’d been a dumb shit kid, and he’d thrown away his entire relationship with the most important person in his life because he wasn’t willing to compromise. He’d been a brat, a stupid, selfish, idiot. All he’d had to do was try a little, and maybe he could have kept Ian.
Or maybe things would have blown up in his face in an even more spectacular fashion. Noah closed the yearbooks and tucked them away again now that he’d reminded himself why he seldom took trips down memory lane.
Instead of going to sleep at a decent hour like he’d promised Gavin, Noah booted up his computer and spent the night working. His mind drifted to the emails Ian had sent him long ago. Noah had saved them all, unread. By the time Noah realized what an idiot he’d been, Ian had stopped emailing years before. Noah shoved thoughts of him away. That door was closed.
Chapter Eight
July 2015
Anyone who said climate change wasn’t real was an idiot to Noah’s mind. Never in his memory had a summer back home in Silver Springs ever been so oppressively hot. It would be a good day to stick a pan of cookies in your windshield and get some baking done, but unfortunately for Noah, he had other things to do. Noah drew the curtains shut to block the sun from heating the room and switched on the air conditioner he’d bought. It wouldn’t keep the whole house cool, but it would keep his dad’s bedroom at a tolerable temperature.
A freak accident had nearly killed his dad, but he was tough and pulled through. Still, the accident put him through two separate surgeries to fix the damage done to his leg and a separate one to fish the glass out of his face. The hardest part of all was the traumatic brain injury. Constant exhaustion and mood swings were the worst of it. Sometimes he became confused which often lead to rage, and when the rage faded, guilt took its place.
Noah had dropped everything and rushed to his dad’s side. While he sat by his bedside, Gavin and Daniel had been godsends and had taken care of things in the city for him. They’d packed Noah’s apartment and had his belongings shipped to Silver Springs. They were great friends, and Noah didn’t know how he’d ever repay their kindness.