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He forced himself to sit up and swing his legs out of the bed. He propped his head in his hands and stared at the hardwood floor. He should leave, but he wouldn’t. Not when there was another chance of getting naked with Rowe. And definitely not when someone was attempting to kill him.
After a shower, he walked into the kitchen and felt his heart stutter at the sight of Rowe grinning at him from in front of the stove. The man wore a pair of black slacks and a loose gray sweater. He’d pushed the sleeves of the sweater up his thick forearms, his tattoo hidden. His auburn hair had been combed off his face and that fucking smile…the man was simply stunning. Noah held his breath, eyes locked on Rowe’s mouth as his mind went right back to the image that had kept him up half the night. All he could think about was Rowe sinking to his knees now.
Rowe handed him a plate stacked with pancakes. He knew they were Noah’s favorite thing to eat. Was this an apology?
“They probably taste like shit. I was short an ingredient.”
“Thanks.” Noah smiled, hating the nerves tearing through his body. He settled at the table, took a bite and it took a lot of effort to not grimace. He reached for the syrup. Lots of syrup.
Three minutes later, Rowe cracked up and dropped his fork. “Stop. This is worse than shit.”
“It is.” He spit his last bite into a napkin, chuckling. “I’m sure Ian could explain it better, but pancakes are a science. Pretty sure every ingredient has an important purpose.”
“You would have sat there and ate all that, huh?”
Noah shrugged. “You made the effort to cook them for me.”
Rowe stared at him for long, long moments, then dropped his gaze to his plate. More seconds passed before he finally spoke. “Are you going out with him again? You did say the kiss was nice.”
He balled up his napkin and tossed it onto his plate, scowling. “Really? You think I’d do that after what happened between you and me last night?”
“No.” Rowe grimaced. “But I honestly don’t know what’s happening with us. With me. Lots of things are confusing me.”
“Rowe, look at me. Please.”
Green eyes came up and locked on him and Noah felt a sense of relief to see that very real affection still shone there.
He leaned over the table, reached out and laid his hand over Rowe’s arm. Warm skin, masculine hair…he stroked his hand over it. “Even if I was the kind of asshole to play friends against each other, I wouldn’t be going out with Ian again. I like him. A lot. He’s great. But there wasn’t anything like that between us and we both realized it.” Because I’m nuts about you. He kept that last part to himself.
Instead, he let go of Rowe, reached into the fruit bowl, grabbed a couple of apples and tossed one to Rowe. “Come on. I’m ready to start my first day working under you.” He couldn’t stop the wicked grin those words brought forth. And he was glad. They needed to reclaim friend territory. For now.
Rowe’s eyes flew open wide. The heat that flared there raised an answering need in Noah. He stared, once again remembering that gorgeous mouth wrapped around his cock. Was Rowe taking his words literally? Imagining that? Stretched out on top of him, sliding those narrow hips between his legs…Noah had to close his eyes as desire tore through him like it would burst from his veins. Just the thought of letting Rowe inside his body had his knees shaking.
Rowe abruptly jumped up, grabbed the dishes and dumped the leftovers down the garbage disposal. He stacked the dishes in the plugged sink and ran water over them. “I’ll do these later. Let’s hit the road.”
That awkward state stayed between them all the way to his office and throughout his introduction to the woman in Ward’s HR department. Before he walked away, he dropped a heavy hand on Noah’s shoulder and squeezed.
Noah watched him all the way down the walkway, the nasty pancakes a heavy lump in his stomach. He turned and went to fill out the paperwork, sure he was making a mistake the whole time.
“Hey, Noah.”
He had just turned the paperwork in when Andrei spoke from the doorway. The man looked more sweaty and disheveled than he’d ever seen him. His white T-shirt had dark patches and his black basketball shorts clung to his muscled legs with moisture. Wet, black curls stuck to his cheeks. Either he’d been running miles or his last training session had been a bitch.
“You looking for a sparring partner?” Noah asked. “I could use the stress relief.”
One dark eyebrow went up. “Your date last night didn’t go as planned, I take it?”
