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After wandering the streets of London aimlessly, I ended up at Southbank Skatepark, next to the river. Taking sips of the coffee I’d bought from a stall, I watched the skateboarders, my mind replaying everything. The way I’d reacted to the sight of Noah with Elliot—why did I hate it so much? Kissing him had been a mistake. Both times, there’d been alcohol involved—okay, at the club, I hadn’t had much to drink, but the whole atmosphere of the place must’ve got to me. There was no way I could seriously be interested in him. It had to be pure curiosity. Didn’t everyone have an experimental phase in uni?
I had to have imagined the way he’d affected me. His hot mouth, the way my dick had hardened against him, the way his body felt beneath my hands, so different to a girl’s.
No good could come of this. He was obviously only looking for a bit of fun anyway. He’d moved on quickly enough. Soon the kisses we’d shared would be nothing more than a vague memory that could be explained away as a drunken, experimental moment.
By the time I’d finished my coffee and started heading back to the Mansions, my mind was made up. Noah was my housemate—nothing more, nothing less. I’d treat him like I did anyone else.
My plan went out of the window the second I stepped into the lounge and saw Ander there, holding a PS5 controller.
“Liam! Want a game? I was meant to be having a rematch with Noah, but he’s over at my house right now, and I think he might be a bit busy with Elliot.” He accompanied his words with a leer and an obscene hand gesture that was impossible to misinterpret.
I really needed to fucking punch something. Or someone.
“Can’t. Sorry.” Without waiting for a reply, I turned on my heel and legged it up the stairs to the safety of my bedroom. Fuck Elliot, and fuck Noah.
What were they doing now? Was Elliot getting to kiss those fucking soft lips? Did he have his hands on Noah’s body, tracing those hard, flexing muscles, all defined from the gym and running? Was Noah’s dick hard for him?
I shouted into my pillow, so frustrated that I couldn’t help myself, then punched it twice for good measure.
Somehow after that, I managed to fall asleep.
* * *
Something had dragged me out of my dream. I blinked, disorientated. It was dark outside now. What had woken me?
The noise came again. Music, through my wall. The wall I shared with the bedroom next door.
Noah thought he could blast his music loud enough that I could hear it clearly in my room? I’d make sure he’d think twice about doing that again. Springing off my bed, I put my fist to the wall and pounded on it, hard.
“Turn your fucking music down, you wanker!”
Nothing happened for a minute, and then the music sounded even louder.
My fists clenched, and I growled under my breath.
This fucker was going to seriously regret pissing me off.
