I laugh, but I see his point. “Never mind. Forget it.”
His hand goes to my forearm. “No way.”
I sigh. “You want to know why I haven’t been with anyone … in that way?”
“Yes,” he says a little too quickly. “I couldn’t figure it out, and after I pissed you off, I figured it best not to bring it up again, but I’m dying to know.”
“My entire life, I’ve followed a playbook. I know how to act, what to do, and I follow the rules. I told myself I could go to those clubs, get off, and then leave that part of me in the club. Taking guys home, or even going to their place, was a huge risk. The longer I spent with a guy, the more chance of him recognizing me, so I never risked it. I’ve been thinking that now that’s not an issue. I’m out and you’re my ‘boyfriend.’ And while your mouth annoys the heck outta me, I … I like you.”
“Ergo, you’re suddenly doing a one-eighty, and we should fuck?”
“Right.” I swallow hard. “With you, there is no playbook to live by. I have no idea what I’m doing, and every time you suggest hooking up, a little bit more of me starts to think it’s a good idea.”
“Score one for wearing you down. And people say persistence is annoying.”
I groan. “See? That line last night would’ve pissed me off. Now I have to bite back from offering to shut you up a different way.”
“In my defense, I didn’t think you’d ever agree to it.”
“So, you’re just messin’ with me? Because now I feel like a moron.”
“No. I mean, I hoped you would agree, but I didn’t think it was a possibility. Now that it’s happening, I’m having a bout of moral consciousness.”
“You have a conscience?”
Noah stares at me confused, as if trying to work out if I’m being an asshole or not.
“That was a joke, by the way. After what you’ve done for me today …”
“After this afternoon, I don’t think it’ll be a good idea.”
Confusing much? “Okay, how did we just switch places? Did we fly through the Bermuda Triangle and some weird Freaky Friday shit is happening?” I now want to do this, but he’s changed his mind?
What kind of fuckery is this?
“I didn’t realize how much is at stake for you until we had that interview,” Noah says. His tone is sympathetic and genuine, yet another reminder that his outside persona is a front. “What if we cross that line you said you don’t want to, one of us fucks up, and it affects your career even more? That’s a lot of pressure.”
“It’s just fucking, Noah.”
“In my experience, fucking always leads to someone getting hurt.”
“How rough do you like it?” I joke.
Noah cracks up laughing, but it dies as fast as it comes. “You know how I told you about Aron?”
“The kinda ex but not?”
“He, umm, wanted more in the end, and I just couldn’t give it to him. I don’t like hurting people, but I do it anyway. It’s like, I can’t help it. I screw up everything good before it can go bad. I don’t want to do that to you. You’ve got enough on your plate without adding my assholiness to it too. It also makes me nervous you changed your mind so quickly.”
“You know what I realized during that interview today?”
“That Speedos do absolutely nothing to hide hard-ons?”
I chuckle. “Apart from that—and that you like to play dirty by rubbing all over me—I’ve followed a certain set of rules since before I hit puberty. When I was younger, if I did anything slightly effeminate, I’d get in trouble and told real men don’t act like that. So, I made sure not to. Dad put it in my head that men are supposed to be tough, they’re not into other men, they play sports, and act like cavemen. I had to set rules for myself before I even knew what being gay meant and had to hide that I had a crush on boys in my class. And now, even though I hate the way it all came out and I was robbed of being the one to choose how and when I smashed through that closet door, I realize I’m free. For the first time in my life, I can kiss a guy if I want to, be with a guy, hold hands in public with a guy. Unfortunately for you, you’ve signed on to be my boyfriend, so that guy is you.”
“That’s how you think you’re going to get me into bed? You’re contractually not allowed to touch other guys, so you may as well touch the guy you rented to be your boyfriend? I’m feeling the love here. I mean, it has nothing to do with my piercing blue-green eyes that don’t belong on a mocha body? My toned muscles, tight ass, and—if I do say so myself—my awesomely sculptured abs?”