Noah wanted to reach for Ian, to pull him into his arms and soothe him. They were twenty years on the other side of their biggest hurts, but Noah knew as well as anyone some things hurt the same, no matter how much time had passed.
“A few of the guys knew I was gay. I tried to hide it, but…” Ian shrugged. “They had me pegged first day. We were going up the steepest part of the hill, and there’s this pretty wicked drop off down the one side. All it took was for someone to slip, and down I went. Broken ribs, concussion, took a tree branch through my left leg, suffered nerve damage. There was no way to know if it would be permanent or not.”
Ian’s hand covered Noah’s clenched fist. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d been so angry, but Ian’s soft voice cut through the rage.
“It’s okay, Noah. The nerve damage ended my army career before it started. But one of the other recruits came forward with a story he’d overheard in the showers later that day. To keep it from getting out, they paid me a nice little compensation package and sent me on my way.”
“They just… they swept it under the rug?” Noah frowned. “How’s your leg now?”
“Got most of the feeling back in it. There are a couple of my toes I can’t feel.” Ian’s expression sobered, and he pulled his hand away from Noah’s. “I promise I’m fine.”
“I believe you.” Noah’s stomach clenched as he thought of Ian, so young, so alone, tumbling down a muddy hill in the rain. Images of dirt, blood, and rain filled his mind, and he wanted to go back in time and beg Ian not to go. He’d stay in Silver Springs. He’d never leave for college. He’d stay with him and keep him safe.
It was a foolish thought. Time didn’t function in reverse. The only way either of them had was forward, and Ian wasn’t Noah’s to protect. Hell, Noah didn’t even know if Ian was single. He chanced a glance at Ian’s hand and saw the faint, faded impression where a wedding ring used to be.
Noah didn’t have time to wonder about Ian’s marriage, if it was alive or dead. He had a paper to get out and articles to write. He had photos to edit for clients. He didn’t have time to sit in diners and chat about events twenty years in the rearview.
“I’m sorry you were hurt.” Noah managed. “And I’m sorry that I need to go, but you know. The paper. And you have work to get done. Put me down for a book and a beer on opening night.”
Ian nodded. “Will do.”
“See you ‘round, Ian.”
“Yeah. See you.”
Noah arrived at his office a few minutes later and shut himself in for the rest of the day. He buried himself in photos and captions, in layouts and the crushing pressure of deadlines instead of the weight of all his regrets.
Chapter Twelve
Noah sat in the shaded gazebo at his dad’s house. He’d removed his shirt and could feel the sun’s heat on his skin. He might pay for it later, but it wasn’t anything aloe gel couldn’t fix. He’d spent the past couple of weeks at his dad’s doing things around the house for him. His leg had improved over the past few years, but Noah enjoyed being there to lend a hand.
“You’re gonna kill yourself in this heat,” his dad appeared with a tall glass of water and all but shoved it into Noah’s hand before he sat down next to him.
“It’s gotta get done,” Noah said after he’d drank half a glass of water.
“Yeah, and I usually do it.”
“No harm in letting me take care of things once in a while.”
His dad made a humming sound and leaned back in his seat. He stretched his leg out in front of him and crossed his arms over his chest. “I saw Ian downtown a few days ago. He’s looking well. Told me he’s moved back.”
“He’s living above Bridget’s garage.”
“Ah, figured you knew he was here.”
“Saw him at the festival.” Noah’s dad might have too, but he usually went first thing in the morning to avoid the bulk of the crowds. “We had breakfast a couple weeks ago.”
“You seen him since?”
“Nope.” Noah leaned back and stared up at the house. “When was the last time those gutters got cleaned?”
“My gutters are fine. It’s my kid I’m worried about. How are you doing?”
Noah shrugged. “I’m fine. But I’d still like to get up there and see your gutters.”
“Stay off my roof. I’ll hire the Miller’s son, he’s getting a business going and right now your angst is cutting into his profit margin.”
Noah laughed. “Okay, I’ll stay off your grass, old man.”
“If I stay off your case?” Noah’s dad shot him a questioning glance.
“Dad, I’m as fine as I can be. I don’t know what I am, if that makes sense. Part of me was so fucking happy to see him, and the other part of me wants to pretend he doesn’t exist. I don’t know what I want. He wants to be friends.”
“I thought you were friends.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“Sometimes time changes people, Noah, and you see them again and it’s like talking to a stranger. Like you’d never met them before. And other times, it’s like picking a book back up and you’re exactly where you left off. Some details might take you a minute to remember, but you still know the story.”
It had been the same with Ian. As much as they’d been through in their own lives, Noah’s soul stood still in Ian’s presence. There was comfort there in those moments they’d shared, and that exact thing had Noah running scared. Because nothing had changed. If he let himself, he could fall right back in love with Ian. As it was, he loved his memories of Ian. Loving the man again wouldn’t be hard at all.
“I’ve spent twenty years living without him, Dad. I need to find a way to get used to him being around.”
His dad patted him on the back. The sunburn already stung, and Noah winced.
“If you want to get used to him being around, then you should stop avoiding him.”
“Are you playing matchmaker?”
“I’m not the one who went there, Noah. Fact is, Ian or no Ian, you can’t spend all your weekends hiding here. You’ve about done all the work ‘round here that needs doing.”
“So basically, you’re kicking me out?”
“Damn right. Go have a social life. Or not. Take your camera out for a while.”
Noah handed his empty glass to his dad and grabbed his shirt off the railing. Something niggled at the back of Noah’s brain and before he left, he looked at his dad.
“That stuff you said about time changing people… who were you talking about?”
Noah’s dad frowned. It wasn’t an expression he wore often now that he was on the other side of his recovery. “I ran into your mother one time. It was years after she left. It was… she was different. We had a very short, awkward, angry conversation, and I got super shit faced directly afterward. I’d always imagined the moment; you know when I’d see her again. And I’d always pictured telling her what a shitty thing she did. And then there she was, right in front of me. And she asked about you.” Noah’s dad gave him a heartbroken look, and he swallowed hard. He was trying to hold it together. “She asked about you as if she had any right to know how fucking great you are, and I told her as much. I said you were a better person than she ever deserved to know, and I walked away. Maybe I should’ve told you earlier. I don’t know. I’m sorry.”