Shane only found one washcloth in the tiny shower stall, so he used wet toilet paper to clean himself up. He hissed and winced as he wiped lube away from his very sore asshole. It had been worth it for the orgasm, but damn. He’d be lucky if it went away before Saturday.

The thought cast a dark shadow on his previously floaty good mood. He’d expected sex with Noel to be good, but this had been far beyond good. Beyond great, even.

Best sex of your life, and you know it.

He didn’t want to admit it. Sex was sex. Two bodies moving together, making each other come. Somehow, though, it was more with Noel. They’d talked briefly outside of Mineo’s. Noel had shown real concern for him during the birthday party debacle. They managed to connect on some level before sex. He’d really wanted to please Noel, and for Noel to be pleased by him. With him. He’d never wanted those things with a sex partner before, and it scared him.

Scared because connecting with someone meant a relationship, and relationships meant honesty, and Shane had so many secret skeletons rattling around in his closet that any sane guy would run screaming.

Noel had his own secrets, though. The scars on his chest were a visible reminder that Noel had a past. Someone had hurt him, Shane was sure of it. He wanted to know, but asking for truth meant sharing his own. Maybe Noel would understand some of it, but not the worst. Not the secret Shane and Jason had kept for the last fourteen years.

He didn’t even want to think about Noel’s reaction to the porn. Yes, he knew Shane was a stripper, but there was a big difference between being paid to dance and take his clothes off, and being paid to let another guy fuck him on camera. Noel was a cop who worried what other people thought about him. He’d drop Shane like a hot stone once porn came up.

But he knows you strip and he still wants you. He can get ridiculed for that too.

Except Noel wasn’t out, so no one was going to find out they were together. Not right away. And they weren’t together, were they? Neither of them had said this was anything other than a one-time deal. Even though he’d gladly see Noel again—and again, and again—he couldn’t assume anything at this very early point, so he washed his face, took a piss and finished up in the bathroom.

Going commando had seemed like the right thing to do a few hours ago, but standing naked in Noel’s room while Noel was getting dressed made him rethink that. He wasn’t keen on pouring himself back into those tight jeans.

“Here,” Noel said. He handed over a pair of cotton workout shorts. “They’ll make eating dinner less distracting.”

Shane grinned. He slipped them on, then sat gingerly on the edge of the bed. He stood up just as suddenly. “You need money for dinner?”

“Nah, my treat.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll be back in a few.”

He noted that Noel took his keys and locked the door behind him, probably out of habit. He hadn’t forgotten the deer-in-the-headlights look on Noel’s face when he’d opened his door. Like the idea of letting someone inside, into his personal space, terrified him. He’d allowed Shane inside, though, and that odd tension had bled away quickly.

Does that mean I’m special? I’m never the special one.

He couldn’t dwell on it, or it would make him crazy.

Shane wandered the room instead, curious about the lack of personal artifacts. Only a handful of pictures. Noel hadn’t been very informative about the family photo, but he’d assumed parents and three siblings. Big family. Grew up poor. Another photo showed four boys crowded together on a faded old sofa, all holding red Solo cups. He recognized Noel and Tristan, both of them a bit younger. Tristan’s hair was shorter, his smile wider. Noel’s hair was longer, almost shaggy—perfect opposites of now. The other two boys were unfamiliar.

Noel’s and Tristan’s arms were around each other, like they’d been wrestling and then told to freeze for the camera. Shane was insanely curious about the pair. Noel had briefly mentioned Tristan was a friend with memory problems, but nothing else. They’d obviously been friends for years and were still close. Ex-boyfriend, maybe? How had Tristan developed those memory problems? Were those kinds of questions allowed on a first date?

He had his dick in your ass. Is anything really hands-off at this point?

Yeah, things were still hands-off. Asking personal questions of Noel would inevitably circle back to Noel asking Shane things he wasn’t ready to discuss. An unfamiliar instinct told Shane that Noel was someone he would discuss those things with—that Noel would understand.

A very familiar survival instinct warned him that was a very, very bad idea.

He couldn’t imagine the relief and horror of sharing his secrets with someone who wasn’t Jason. God help him, he wanted to. He needed to. But he couldn’t risk those secrets driving Noel away. Not this soon.

I need a little more before I inevitably fuck it all up.

The only art in the room was from a monthly calendar. He flipped through the months, each one a different photo of a Chesapeake retriever. Lovely, agile dogs. Interesting. Prepared with a safe conversation topic that had nothing to do with Shane’s tarnished past, he stretched out across the bed, feet dangling over the side, and waited.

Keys jangled a few minutes later. Propped on his elbows, Shane had the perfect view of Noel when he walked in with a plastic grocery bag holding two Styrofoam containers. Noel faltered, a slow grin cracking his face. Noel had a great smile, gentle and honest, that teased a pair of dimples. And this time he seemed genuinely pleased to have Shane in his room.

“You could drive a man to distraction spread out like that,” Noel said.

“That’s the idea.” Shane sat up. “You got anything to drink?”

“Yeah, there’s bottled water in the fridge. A few cans of root beer too.”

Olivia handing him a fizzing glass of iced root beer flashed in Shane’s mind, and his stomach rolled. “What do you want?”

“Water’s fine.”

Shane fetched two waters while Noel arranged their takeout at the table. The metal folding chair was cold against Shane’s ass, and he squirmed a bit until he found a somewhat comfortable arrangement. The omelet was amazing, the home fries crisp and spiced just right, but Shane had more fun watching Noel eat.

Noel took careful, deliberate bites of his sandwich. Chewed carefully before swallowing. A bite of sandwich followed by a fork of potato salad. A practiced dance. A personal quirk that delighted Shane to have discovered.

“So how long you have known Tristan?” Shane had totally meant to ask about the dog calendar, but his other curiosity slipped out first.

“About six years.” Noel didn’t falter in eating. “We met as freshman in college. Same floor, same dorm. Both of us far from home and able to explore our sexuality without worrying about our families finding out.”

So Tristan was gay too. “You’re not out to your family?”

“I am now.”

Shane poked at his cooling home fries, determined his next question was out of curiosity, not jealousy. He had no claim on Noel now or then. “Were you and Tristan together?”

“We tried, but after a few months we decided we were way better off as friends. Why so curious about Tristan?”

“Learning about you. First date talk and all, like you suggested earlier.” Shane couldn’t figure if that sounded honest or pathetic. He was so bad at this getting-to-know-you shit, but he was trying. “You two seemed really close, judging by what I saw at lunch.”

Noel looked up from his food, eyebrows slanted. “What do you mean?”

Shane had tried not to stare too much as Noel and Tristan ate their lunch and chatted. But he’d been insanely curious who Tristan was to Noel, and if the two were an item. After all, before tracking him down on the sidewalk, the only thing he’d known about Noel was that he was a cop and he looked fantastic in his uniform. “You were very attentive, that’s all. You sat close together, and you really paid attention when he talked to you. It seemed…coupley.”

“Tristan’s been through a long rough patch, and today was the first time in years that we’ve spent a whole day together.”

“How come?”

Noel faltered, his smile fading away. He seemed to debate his words. “Almost exactly three years ago, Tristan was jumped in an alley. Four guys tried to beat his head in with a whiskey bottle. It left him with no short-term memory. He can’t watch movies because after about fifteen or twenty minutes, he’s forgotten how it started. He meets new people and won’t remember them the next day, unless he sees them on a very regular basis and even then it’s only vague recognition. Never names or details on how he knows them. It’s why he’s got that notebook all the time. He writes down what he’s doing, who he’s talked to, so he doesn’t get confused.”

“That’s his system.” A system that Shane very much understood and sympathized with—he had a similar manner of dealing with his own issues. When he remembered to use the damned notebook.

“Right.”

“That fucking sucks. Did they arrest the assholes who did it?”

“Never caught them.”

“Fuck.” Anger simmered deep in his gut for a guy he didn’t even know, and for the pain it had caused Noel. And for living with knowing that the bashers could be anyone walking past him on the street.

“Nothing before the bashing was affected memory-wise. But I think he’s able to recall things long-term, even if he isn’t aware of it. He knows I visit him every week. He knows I live nearby and that we aren’t in college anymore. But other things…if I called him tonight, he wouldn’t remember what he had for lunch, or that you and I talked on the sidewalk.”

“Wow. That’s…so how does he take care of himself?”

“His parents pay for him to live in an assisted living center. It’s a decent place, and the staff is nice.”

“Do his parents visit often?”

“Not once. He hadn’t come out to them before the bashing, and when they found out he was gay, they agreed to support him financially because he was their son, but they cut him out of their lives. Fuckers.”

“Goddamn. I can’t imagine not having Jason.”

“Jason?”

Oh, right. Shane had been so busy butting into Noel’s life that he’d barely offered up anything about himself. Jason was a safe enough topic for a first date. “Jason is my older brother. We live together over at Parsons Square.” Shane kind of wanted to take that last bit back. He didn’t usually offer up his place of residence so quickly, because people liked to judge him based on his lower-class status. But he wanted Noel to know the kind of trash he was getting involved with.

You gave him your address the other night, you idiot. He probably knew.

“How much older?”

“Eight years.”

“My eldest sister Jenna is eleven years older than me.” In that framed photo, Noel pointed out a fair-haired woman with a big smile. “My brother Reggie is seven years older, and Curtis is four years older.”

Shane chuckled. “So you’re the baby of the family?”

“Pretty much. Only one who went to college too, or who got out of Arkansas. My parents couldn’t afford it, but I worked my ass off for academic scholarships. I needed to get out of there.”

“You didn’t like Arkansas?”

“Some parts are nice. I didn’t like West Memphis. We were poor, we were in the South, and that’s not a great place to be gay. I hated having to hide, and the day I got my college acceptance letter I felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my chest. I could get away and finally be myself. I mean, I love my family, and they’ve never been cruel to me, even after they found out I was gay. I just…”

“Needed space?” Shane offered.

“Exactly.” Noel smashed a bit of potato flat. “How about your parents?”

“Dead.”

“I’m sorry.”

The sympathy was genuine, and it kept Shane from buttoning up on the topic. All the locals knew the story, but Noel wasn’t from Stratton.

“It’s fine.” Shane shrugged, hoping it reassured Noel, unsure why it was important that he do so. “My bio dad died from cancer when I was a baby. Mom married my stepdad Thom when I was two or three, I think. She died of heart failure when I was five.” Shane’s gut coiled tight, his insides freezing as the instinct to hide from the truth took over. He couldn’t really mention Thom’s death without either admitting to or lying about the circumstances, and he wasn’t going there.

Granted, if Noel really wanted to know, he could probably Google the whole thing, but Shane was in too good a mood to relive it tonight.

Noel didn’t help him out at all by asking, “Is your stepdad still around?”

“No.”

“So it’s you and Jason?”

“Yeah, for a while now. He’s a great guy.”

“What does he do?”

“He works for East Street Pets and Feed, and he moonlights as a security guard at a junkyard.”

“Damn. When does he sleep?”

Shane internally flinched. “We’re kind of in the hole, money-wise, and he’s trying to get us out. Honestly, he works too fucking hard, but he won’t let me do more.”

“Do you get a lot of hours at the deli?”

“It varies. It helps that I—” good job, way to bring up your other work, “—um, moonlight too.”

Noel’s hand snaked across the table to cover Shane’s. “Stripping isn’t a crime, cowboy, and it genuinely does not bother me.”

“Right now it doesn’t. We barely know each other.”

“We’re getting to know each other. That’s what a date is all about, right?”

“Right.” He wanted to get to know Noel more and not just physically. He liked talking to him. Shane wanted to talk to him, and he hadn’t wanted that in a very long time. “Still, a lot of people can’t seem to separate a stripper from a hooker.”

His insides squirmed. Don’t go back there.

Noel studied him, his expression benign. “You afraid I’ll get jealous and demand you stop?”

“Do you think you would?”

“I don’t know.”

Points scored for honesty.

“I really like you, Shane.” Noel turned their hands so they were palm to palm. “I like this. I’d like to see you again for sure.”

“Me too.” So much. “And I don’t plan on being a professional stripper. I just…I really love dancing, and we’re almost out from under our debt. Then I can stop and figure out what I really want to do.” He’d be out of it sooner after Saturday, and then he and Jason could breathe a little easier.

One day soon, he would put Shane Joseph to rest, and finally figure out who Jody McShane really was.

“Can I ask why you started? Besides the money. I mean, there are other ways to make extra money.”

“Like I said, I love to dance.” Shane grinned, because he really did love it. He could share this with Noel, no problem. “And I’m very good at it. I had a really hard time as a teenager, and I was seventeen the first time I saw the movie Stomp the Yard. I watched it until the disc wore out, and then I watched every movie like it that I could find. Something about that kind of sensual, expressionistic dancing spoke to me. Probably sounds cheesy, but I taught myself by watching those films.”

“Have you ever considered professional dancing?” Noel cleared his throat. “Um, a different kind?”

“Not really. I wouldn’t even know how to start. I have zero interest in ballet or acting, and I have no idea how to teach it because I taught myself.”

“But you want more than the deli, right?”

“Sure. I haven’t given it a lot of thought. Mostly I dream of the day when we’re above water again. It’s hard to see past that right now.”

“I get that.”

“So what about you?” Shane needed to redirect the spotlight off his life and back onto Noel’s. He liked hearing about Noel. “Did you always want to be a police officer?”

“I always had an interest in law enforcement. My dad worked for Crittenden County Jail my whole life as a guard. I wasn’t really interested in that, though. Then when I was fifteen, this kid in my high school got beaten up because someone found out he was gay. His parents pressed charges, but the two kids who did it got community service and a slap on the wrist. I remember thinking how unfair that was, when this kid’s entire sense of safety had been destroyed.”

Noel’s voice rose in intensity as he spoke, proof of how much this event had affected him. And that maybe Noel’s own sense of safety had been destroyed in a similar way. He’d admitted to being bullied as a teen. He had awful scars on his chest. Something inside Shane rebelled at the idea of anyone hurting Noel.

“So when I got my college scholarship,” Noel continued, “I decided to get a degree in criminal justice. I considered law school, but changed my mind and chose to become a police officer. I wanted to be able to protect people, rather than fight battles in a courtroom.”

“Did Tristan’s bashing make you change your mind about being a lawyer?”

Anger and grief flashed in Noel’s eyes. “Yes.”

Shane didn’t understand that particular mindset. Training for a job that put you in danger, in order to save perfect strangers. Cops, Army, Navy, whatever. It boggled him. The only way he’d take a bullet for a stranger was if he was shoved in front of one. “Do you feel like you make a difference?”

Noel tilted his head, doing that thing where he studied Shane before replying. “Did you want to be tied to that bed last Saturday night?”

Shane’s heart flipped. “No.”

“Then yes, I think I make a difference.”

Yeah, I guess he does.

He’d made a huge difference to Shane, who’d been about ten seconds away from being totally stripped by a drunk housewife who only stopped because of the cops at the door.

“You don’t owe me an explanation for how I found you,” Noel said. “But if you ever want to talk about it, I’ll listen.”

“Thanks.” Shane wanted to forget about it, not relive it. He got paid, he was fine, end of fucking story. “Not much to tell beyond what you know, but thanks.”

Noel collected their empty containers. He tore the tops off, then stacked the four pieces inside each other. The stack went into a lidded trash can next to the fridge. “Makes less waste,” he said. “I hate taking out the trash.”

“I hear you. We don’t have trash service, so we save it up and haul it to the dump ourselves.”

“That probably gets pretty gross.”

“It’s not so bad, even in the summer. Jason has a pickup, so we don’t have to smell it during the drive.”

“That’s good.”

Conversation was turning to talk of garbage dumps, which wasn’t a good sign. Noel rocked on his heels near the fridge, probably at a slight loss as to what to do next. Their entire date had been backwards—first sex, then dinner and talking. Shane wasn’t sure what was next, either. He’d eaten too much, but damn, the food was good, so another round of sex would have to wait a while. And Noel didn’t have a TV, which left little in the way of entertainment.

Better to quit while he was ahead. Tonight had been fantastic, and if he pushed his luck, he might do or say something to prove to Noel that he was waste of time. Hot sex or not. He didn’t want to risk this being their one and only date.

“I want to see you again,” Shane said.

Noel grinned, flashing those dimples. “I’d like that too. My work schedule is pretty weird, though. I’m first shift, which is eleven at night to seven in the morning, five days, starting tomorrow.”

Shane worked that one around. It gave them daytime hours, and evenings on Wednesday and Thursday. He worked at the deli tomorrow, and Saturday was off the table. Probably Sunday too, for good measure. “When do you sleep?”

“Usually when I first get home, from about eight to two or three. Sometimes longer, depending on the night.”

“So you’re usually free dinnertime until like ten?”

“Pretty much.” Noel cracked an unexpected yawn. “Sorry, my schedule is a little off after spending the day with Tristan. I try to keep similar sleep times on my days off so I don’t get too screwed up.”

Shane stood, surprised. “How long have you been awake?”

“About thirty hours.”

“Shit, why didn’t you tell me that?”

“Because I wanted to do this tonight. I’ve been thinking about you all week, and I’m glad I saw you at Mineo’s today. Really glad.”

“Me too.” Shane draped his arms around Noel’s waist. “And since this has been a fantastic night, I’m going to go before you pass out from exhaustion.”

“Do you want to get together tomorrow?”

He considered it for about two seconds. “My weekend’s pretty booked with work and stuff. Monday? We could maybe go out for real this time?”

“Sounds good. I’ll call you when I get up Monday and we can hammer out the details.”

“Okay.”

Shane collected his clothes and dressed, taking his time because Noel was watching. The opposite of a striptease, and Shane kind of loved the novelty of it. He meant his good-night kiss to be soft, quick, but Noel held him tight and devoured his mouth until Shane was breathless and half-hard. God, he could kiss Noel for hours and not get tired of it. But he saw the fatigue in Noel’s eyes, and it was time to leave.

“See you soon,” Shane said. “And thanks for dinner.”

“You’re welcome, cowboy.”

Shane strolled back to his car with a bounce in his step, positive he’d never be able to hear the word “cowboy” again without thinking of Noel Carlson.

Noel face-planted in bed seconds after locking his door and flipping off the light. He was exhausted and he was wired, and those two things never went well together. Thirty hours felt like nothing after his incredible night. He’d spent a few hours with an insanely gorgeous guy he was very attracted to, had terrific chemistry with, was easy to talk to, and who seemed interested in seeing where things might go.

He pinched his hip, then laughed out loud because he wasn’t dreaming.

Shane attracted him as much as he worried him. The subtle things he did, the things he didn’t say, all suggested secrets. Scary secrets lurking behind a seductive smile. Not that Noel himself was the bastion of truth. He’d left out his own part in Tristan’s bashing and the scars it had left behind. But this was a first date with a relative stranger, and Noel didn’t tell that stuff to anyone. His family knew, as did Billy and Chris, and a few other of their friends at the time. He’d never told a lover, and until he was certain that this flirtation with Shane was going to a deeper level, it was his secret to keep.