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He froze, and this time shock uncurled his toes as he jerked back. Panting, he stared at his friend of sixteen years, taking in his flushed cheeks, his swollen lips, the heady desire narrowing his eyes. Eyes that flicked down and widened when he caught sight of Rowe’s crotch.
He glanced down and saw that his pajama pants spectacularly showed off the spike his dick had become. Guess he had his answer to whether or not he was bisexual. All those years of wondering and thinking about it, trying to figure out if that one night had been a drunken fluke. Here was solid proof that his crank—so to speak—turned for a man.
And it turned hard.
For Noah fucking Keegan.Chapter 9It was time to face facts. He was hiding from Noah.
Sure, when he’d gotten up he’d breathed a big fucking sigh of relief when he’d discovered Noah was already gone, he then retreated to the spare bedroom he’d set up as his home office—he did have piles of paperwork to go through. He had reports to review regarding different client cases, Lucas’s own arson issue to research, and little bits of news rolling in from discreet sources regarding Jagger. Several of his clients had heard about Lucas’s fire as well as the issues at both George and Andrei’s jobs. People who hadn’t been affected were calling in for a little handholding and reassurance that they were safe. No one had canceled their contract…yet. But if shit kept raining down, it was coming.
Even with all the madness, Rowe had completed the majority of the paperwork hours ago.
Now Noah was back and there was no missing the fact that he was doing something in the kitchen. The sound of pots and pans being slammed around had stopped for the most part thirty minutes ago. Rowe managed to sneak out to piss once while Noah was taking the dogs out and now he really needed to get out of his office. He couldn’t keep hiding.
But what the fuck was he supposed to say?
He’d kissed Noah.
Well, technically Noah had kissed him, but there was no denying that after that first second of shock Rowe had most definitely kissed the man back. He’d opened his mouth and tangled his tongue with Noah’s, tasting him, swallowing down his groan. He’d shivered and let the other man’s heat wash over him.
Fuck, he was getting hard again just thinking about it. Rowe shoved away from his desk and got to his feet, running both hands through his hair. What was the issue here?
That he kissed a man?
That he kissed Noah, one of his best friends?
That he kissed someone other than his wife and loved every fucking second of it?
Yes, to all of the above.
He couldn’t…he wasn’t….
Before he could even pull together a coherent thought in his head, loud knocking on the office door echoed through the silent room.
Rowe jumped, twisting around to face the door, his heart pounding erratically in his chest.
“Hey, Ward!” Noah shouted through the wood.
Rowe lurched forward, moving to lock the door to stop Noah from coming in, but halted at the last second. How freaking guilty would that look to lock his friend out of his office? He was hiding.
Turning on his heel, he slunk back to his desk and silently slid into his seat. “Yeah,” he barked, trying to sound busy. He rolled his eyes at himself. Really, this was fucking ridiculous. If Snow had been in the room, the man would have laughed himself silly already and Rowe wouldn’t have blamed him.
“I made dinner if you want to crawl out of the cave you’ve been hiding in,” Noah said and there was no missing the taunt in his voice.
Rowe clenched his teeth against a growl. He’d skipped lunch and was starving, but he hadn’t figured out what the hell to say to Noah yet. Rowe was the one out of the group who wasn’t supposed to be kissing men. He was the straight one. Sort of. Mostly. Hell, he didn’t know. At least that’s what he’d been telling himself for years. That had been really fucking easy when he’d been married to Mel.
“I’m in the middle of some reports. Later,” he called back, hating himself.
“I made spare ribs.”
Rowe groaned loudly, not caring that he could be heard through the door. He lived for ribs. The messier the better. Meat just falling off the bone.
“You remember that time we were on leave for a month and you, me, Worth, and Bohman rented that house in Barcelona? Worth made those ribs you swore you were going to marry.”
“Oh God.” Rowe leaned forward and hit his forehead against the desk. “To this day, those are still the best ribs I have ever eaten. I cried, Noah, cried freaking tears when we were done.”
“I got the recipe.”
Rowe was out of his chair without a second thought, throwing open the door to find Noah standing with his wide shoulders against the wall next to the doorframe. He was aiming for nonchalant. His arms were crossed over his chest, stretching the cotton of his long-sleeved shirt. His expression seemed almost bored, but Rowe knew better.
