Chapter Three
Adrian tried to read Noah’s reaction, but his impassive face gave nothing away, leaving him to rattle on. At some point in the past twelve hours, he’d decided that Noah was hardly the bigot he’d feared at first, and given his options, trying to buy a ride from Noah didn’t seem like a terrible idea.
“I could pay you—I mean I know I don’t have any cash now, but I make good money at Space Villager. You can look me up—I’m in a number of the online Code Review webisodes where we talk about debugging problems.”
Hi. Look at me. I’m so important I’m on Twitch and YouTube. Could he sound any more ridiculous?
His offer of cash was based on the assumption that Trent hadn’t already cleaned out his accounts, but he kept his mouth shut about that. He didn’t want to assume the worst about Trent. Maybe he had a terrible temper, but Adrian didn’t like to think he’d picked a criminal for a maybe-sort-of boyfriend. Heck, even thinking of Trent as an opportunistic Space Villager groupie was better...Oh good idea.
“Hey! I could even get you beta access to Module Racer and Pod Command.” Yup. Dork factor, maximized. And maybe he hadn’t quite learned his lesson with Trent, but there was something really gratifying about a guy who got his game and who could talk hours about the intricacies. Heck, he’d give Noah access simply for last night’s hospitality, but if it sweetened the deal...
Something flashed in Noah’s eyes and his mouth quirked, but he still shook his head. “That’s...tempting. And I’m not...unsympathetic to your situation, but I’m under a deadline here.”
“I get it.” Adrian shoved aside the disappointment that bubbled up in his throat and stung his sinuses. He wasn’t Noah’s problem. “You’ve done a lot for me already. And I appreciate it. I’ll figure something out.”
After putting on his T-shirt and fleece sweatshirt, he picked up Noah’s phone. Time to face the music or at least part of it. Noah was right about needing to address the credit and bankcard issue. And admittedly, dealing with practicalities was easier than calling his family. He still wasn’t ready for that.
He used the browser on Noah’s phone to find the number for his bank and got started on the lengthy process of getting stuff canceled. While he dealt with being on hold, Noah puttered around the tiny kitchen, getting out a frying pan and digging some eggs and bacon out of his small fridge. There was something sweetly domestic about watching him work and Adrian’s chest did a weird flip. Even Noah’s tea-drinking habit was quaint and homey, and Adrian didn’t miss his usual coffee.
This was what he was supposed to have had with Trent. Quiet mornings with breakfast and gorgeous views. Instead he was sitting here feeling more stressed than he’d ever been in his life as he recited his personal information five times to cancel all his cards, effectively cutting him off from his life even more.
As Adrian disconnected from the last bank company, Noah put two plates of food onto the dining table. “I don’t have bread you can eat, but I figured eggs and bacon were pretty safe?”
Oh man. The warmth in Adrian’s chest spread up his neck and down low into his gut. Trent had never attempted to accommodate his dietary needs in the meals they’d shared, and here Noah had done it without prompting.
“Thanks.” He slid in opposite Noah.
“And I opened up a can of tuna for Pixel. Ulysses’s food is way too big for the little guy to chomp.” Noah motioned to the tile area in front of the door where both dogs were happily eating.
Adrian bit down hard on his lip, trying to stop the rising tide of emotions. Noah had bothered to care for Adrian’s dog. The sweetness was killing him.
“Are you missing your family’s holiday to work on your book?” he asked. Are you single? That was what he really wanted to ask. A nice guy like Noah had no business spending the holiday alone.
Noah made the same sort of face he’d made when Adrian said his family stuff was complicated. “My mom and sister both live in North Carolina. They understand about the deadline.”
The way Noah didn’t meet Adrian’s gaze and instead pushed his eggs around his plate said there was far more to the story, but Adrian didn’t push. After all, he wasn’t exactly eager to talk about his own family situation.
Noah ate with the same quiet efficiency he did everything else, and he finished first.
“I guess I’d better search out Billy now,” Adrian said reluctantly after he scooped up the last bite of his eggs. Noah’s phone sat mocking him on the table, but he wasn’t ready to call his mother yet. He’d really rather cling to the tiny hope that Trent had been in contact with the manager.
“You can’t go out in just socks.” Noah gestured at Adrian’s feet. “It’s way too cold and muddy today. But I had an idea.”
“Oh?” Please say it involves me hanging out here longer.
“What size shoe are you? Your feet look slightly smaller than mine.”
Hey. I resent that implication. Adrian bit back the quick retort. “I wear an eleven.”
“Good. I have a spare pair of hiking boots. These are twelves, but I can give you an extra pair of socks. Now just to find the darn things.” Noah put the plates in the sink, then went to the cabinets over the couch area. “I think I shoved them in here...”
Adrian had a hard time picturing the uber-organized Noah haphazardly putting things away. Sure enough, the cupboards were neater than most of Adrian’s coworkers’ desks—little baskets to hold things and neat stacks of books and papers. Noah started unloading the nearest cabinet, putting books on the couch so he could get to the items in the back of the cupboard.
“Oh my gosh!” Adrian wasn’t trying to be nosy. He really wasn’t. But he spotted a set of familiar books—one of his all-time favorite sci-fi series. His very favorite, very gay, very hot and steamy sci-fi books. He picked up the well-worn top copy. His own copies were on his e-reader but no less beloved.
“Are you gay?” The question was out before he could rein in his tongue, his brain reeling with pleasure at finding a fellow fan and at this potential new revelation about Noah.
Noah made a strangled sound and dropped the boots he was holding.
* * *
Help. Noah hadn’t been thinking as he unloaded the cupboard. Hadn’t thought about his stash of fiction books. A noise escaped his throat—an outraged squeak that most certainly did not come from him.
“Are you gay?” Ever since he was fifteen, he’d worked deliberately to make sure he never faced that question. He wasn’t good at lying, and he knew better than to go constructing houses out of cards—the threat of a swift breeze had hung over him for so long he didn’t know how to operate without the chilling fear of discovery, however remote.
He didn’t allow himself many indulgences, but here in his space—where no one ever visited, where he got to shut the door on all those pressures—he’d let himself get a little sloppy.
And now he was stuck.
Lie. How hard can it be to say no?
He grabbed the books and tossed them back in the cupboard, like that would solve anything.
“Oh.” Adrian made a little noise, and Noah made the mistake of looking at his face—his eyes were bluer than before, soft with the sort of compassion that made his stomach ache.
Pixel echoed Adrian’s noise. Oh great. Now the animals were in on his humiliation too.
“I forgot about your school. You’re not out, are you?”
“I don’t think that’s any of your business.” Damn. His voice wobbled.
“I’m sorry—”
“Don’t be.” Hell. Noah wasn’t a man given to extravagant cursing, but this was a total mess. The last thing he needed was Adrian’s pity. “There’s the boots. I’ll get you another pair of socks.”
Breathing hard, he ducked into the bedroom. His pulse pounded in his ears, the roar of an excavator tearing up his carefully segmented life. He grabbed the socks from the dresser built into the side of the bed, then turned to find Adrian right there, behind him.
“Hey. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” Adrian touched his arm, patting him like he was some spooked dog.
“For Pete’s sake, can’t I get a little privacy here?” Noah recoiled from the touch, stepping back against the bed. His home didn’t usually feel claustrophobic, but right then, every square inch seemed to be closing in, pressing up against his raw and vulnerable skin.
“I’ll go now.” Adrian took the socks from Noah, then went to the couch where he made quick work of the socks and boots.
“That’s probably best.” Noah didn’t recognize his own voice, didn’t recognize this fear clattering though his veins.
“Thanks for everything. Really. You didn’t have to help me last night, and I’m sorry I intruded on your space.” Adrian grabbed Pixel, tucking him under his arm. And then he was gone, Noah’s door swinging softly shut behind.
The frigid air snuck in, smacking Noah in the face and tasting an awful lot like regret.
* * *
Rocky dirt crunched under Adrian’s borrowed boots as he walked toward Billy’s cabin. The dirt in this part of Utah was a dark, dusky red that clung to the boots’ bulky treads. In the distance, the Capitol Reef rock formations hulked impressively against the horizon.
When he was a kid, his dad had dragged him and his sisters to this region for camping trips, and Adrian had liked pretending he’d landed on an alien landscape, bounding across big rocks and shooting scrubby bushes with imaginary laser beams. Now, though, he felt more like a stranded space captain—no ship, no currency, and no more friendly locals. His wits seemed to be in short supply, and his trusty companion was currently shivering under his sweatshirt.
Some holiday.
By the time he reached Billy’s cabin, the cold air had turned his cheeks and hands pink, and the chill wound its way around his spine, an increasing reminder of what an idiot he’d been to trust Trent.
The Open sign was up on the door. Billy’s place was a faux log cabin-meets-faux adobe atrocity of 1950s architecture. The front of the cabin served as an office and tiny, cluttered general store. Billy himself was as outdated as his aspirin and mouthwash packets with his grizzled head and torn blue down vest over a faded plaid shirt. The elderly man gave Adrian an assessing stare through rheumy eyes.
“No dogs in here. It’s posted.” He pointed to a sign on the wall.
Adrian backed up to the battered door frame. “Sorry, I don’t have a leash—”
“That’s not exactly my problem, now is it?” Billy said around a toothpick in his mouth. “Ran your card first thing this morning. Soon as I heard about your...man friend lighting off.”
Should have canceled the cards last night. Adrian suppressed his groan. “You haven’t heard anything from Trent or anything about him?”
“I look like your personal secretary, boy? You’re letting all the cold air in and as of right now, you’re not a paying customer.”
“I’m sorry to impose, but I’m kind of stranded—”
“I ain’t running a mission here. Reckon you can make a collect call though. Go on now.” He came out from behind the dusty glass counter and pointed to a pay phone on the exterior of the building. “Shut the door behind you.”
Oh hell. He shouldn’t be surprised by Old Billy’s reaction, but still, living in LA and growing up in Denver, he hadn’t experienced a lot of anti-gay sentiment. Theoretically, it was possible that Billy was simply anti-stranded tourist. Not likely. Adrian dropped down to sit on the porch steps in front of the phone. He cuddled Pixel close. He was totally out of options now.
He tried to pretend he was back in high school theater, rehearsing lines for a ridiculous skit. Hey, Mom, guess where I am? And it would have to be his mom. He didn’t have the phone numbers memorized for any of the rest of his Denver family, let alone any of his old high school friends. He closed his eyes, letting his head thump back against the building.
Jingle. Jingle.
His eyes shot open at the sound of a now-familiar dog collar. Ulysses was charging up the lane, dragging Noah behind him. It wasn’t quite the cavalry, but Adrian couldn’t help the surge of hope that made him sit up straighter.
Noah came to a stop right in front of him. “Ulysses wouldn’t let me get back to work.”
“Yeah? Bad dog.” Adrian grinned at the overgrown mammoth of a rescue dog and scratched his head. Ulysses’s ears were halfway between pointy and floppy and gave him a perpetual look of doggie unhappiness.
“And...” Noah took a deep inhale. “I felt bad about earlier. I was...harsh.”
“You were kind. And I intruded. I’m sorry.” Adrian wasn’t the type of guy to unintentionally out someone. But then, he also wasn’t the kind of guy to end up abandoned with only the clothes on his back. The past twenty-four hours had revealed all kinds of uncomfortable truths about himself.
“I take it Billy wasn’t much help?”
“He pointed me to the phone.” Adrian gestured to the wall behind him.
“Ah. So you called your family?”
“I’m getting there.” Adrian tried to sound nonchalant and not like a guy who was totally screwed.
“I wasn’t really thinking earlier. Is it...the gay thing? Your family isn’t...welcoming?” Noah seemed to be choosing his words carefully as he sat down next to Adrian. The “gay thing” was a crocodile-infested lagoon looming large between them—like a video game level with no clear path to safety on the other side.
But navigating that terrain was somehow preferable to reaching for the phone. “No, they’re cool with me being gay. It’s more...” He trailed off, the whole story stuck somewhere around his breastbone.
“Yeah?” Noah looked expectantly at him. His hooded eyes were hazel shot through green, like a calm pond on a quiet fall day. He had a way of looking at Adrian, with his chin resting on his hand, like he’d sit there focused on him as long as Adrian wanted to talk. Like Adrian could say anything and he wouldn’t judge.
Suddenly the need to tell someone pushed the words out of the bottleneck of doubts in Adrian’s chest.
“It’s like this...Both of my parents are lawyers. My older sister’s an accountant. Middle sister just finished law school and joined my mom’s firm. And I’m a video game designer.”
“And you should be really proud of the work you do. Space Villager is already very popular.”
Adrian’s toes curled inside the too-big boots. Few people gave him such easy praise.
“You’re kind. And you’re also Space Villager’s target audience. But to my family, I’m the odd one—the kid with the strange food allergies who insisted on art classes and spent hours and hours alone in his room on programming projects. The guy who chose UCLA to pursue gaming as a career instead of going to either of my parents’ alma maters. I’ll always be one step away from a screwup.”
“And ending up in this campground alone would be a screwup?” Noah’s tone held so much understanding that Adrian’s eyes smarted. “It’s not your fault. Your boyfriend’s the one who messed up.”
“Yeah. They won’t see it that way.”
“They’d just leave you here?”
“Oh no.” Adrian had to smile at how outraged Noah sounded on his behalf. “But see I’ve got Pixel here. It’s not as easy as just wiring me a bus ticket. One of them is going to have to drive out here to get me. And then I’m the guy who can’t even choose a boyfriend right, the guy who can’t leave his dog in a kennel. As soon as I call, I’m the guy who fucked up his sister’s wedding week. The guy who proved every one of their fears about me to be spectacularly right.”
“Your sister’s getting married? On Thanksgiving?”
“The wedding’s Saturday. It’s also both her and her fiancé’s birthday.” Adrian took a deep breath. Might as well spill all of it. “It would be all romantic except she’s marrying my ex-boyfriend. And having his baby.”
“Your ex?” Noah blinked.
“My high school boyfriend. We did the whole long-distance through college, but eventually broke up. My sister consoled him in law school and now I’m going to be an uncle.”
“Congrats,” Noah said dryly.
“That’s why I was bringing Trent home. Not because I thought he was some great love of my life or something, but because I needed a date. I love Emily like crazy, but I can’t show up alone. Not to this. I’m supposed to be all happy for them but...”
“But it’s complicated.” Noah gave him an encouraging smile.
“Yeah. And now not only am I showing up without a date, I’m going to screw up everyone’s plans by requiring rescue. I’ll be the flaming pile of shit that lands on their weekend.”
“So that’s why you haven’t called,” Noah summed up.
“I’m going to. Don’t worry. I’m not planning anything stupid like hitchhiking. I have to be there. And this isn’t your problem—I’m being chicken and trying to delay the inevitable.”
Noah stroked his beard, eyes distant. They sat in companionable silence for several long moments. Being near Noah was almost like having an extra coat—a layer of protection against the frozen tundra of his life right now.
“I’ll do it,” Noah said, breaking the quiet.
“What?”
“I’ll give you a ride to Denver. You don’t have to make that call quite yet.”