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Noah hummed and nodded in understanding. His green eyes had a certain sparkle to them as he sipped his coffee. Of course, seeing as the man had had a year-long relationship with Marcus Albright, Beckett already knew which way he was inclined. And considering where they’d met and what Beckett had confessed to him about his feelings for Graham, Noah knew the same about him. It was refreshing to start off an acquaintance already in the know, and without any fear of the truth being discovered.
“So, if your father is a wealthy industrialist,” Noah said once their breakfasts had been delivered, “and if your sole employment is managing his calendar, where and how do you live?”
“I have a small brownstone near Park Avenue and Sixty-Third Street,” Beckett admitted sheepishly. “It’s horrifically grand, in spite of its size, and has far too many rooms for a confirmed bachelor. My father purchased it as an investment, though, and since he feels I am too old to continue to live at home, I live in luxury for no cost.”
“Lucky bugger,” Noah said, laughing.
Again, Beckett found that laughter infectious. Noah’s spirits seemed to improve quickly when he was plied with flapjacks and coffee, as anyone’s would.
“And you?” he asked, cutting into his sausage. “What is your life like back in London?”
Noah huffed humorlessly and shook his head as he speared scrambled eggs with his fork. “I have no life in London anymore. I left it all, sold everything, closed all my accounts, and told off my family so that I could come over here to win Marcus back.”
“Oh.” Beckett didn’t know whether to cheer on the brave move or question whether it was truly wise.
Then again, if it was ever necessary for him to risk all for the chance that Graham might actually look twice at him and open his heart to him, he might have done the same.
“Where did you and Marcus meet?” he asked, eager to know more, and to determine whether he was on Noah’s side or Jasper’s when it came to who should win Marcus.
Noah chewed his mouthful with a happy sound and smiled. Once he’d swallowed and washed the bite down with coffee, he said, “At The Chameleon Club. It’s a private gentleman’s club for our sort.”
“Like The Slope?” Beckett asked.
Noah laughed loudly, drawing the eyes of the couple seated at the table next to them. “Not by half,” he said, then gathered more eggs onto his fork. “Gentleman’s clubs in London are far stodgier than your exciting Bowery clubs. Although I will hand it to The Chameleon Club, the food is excellent, and the events they organize are quite diverting. Marcus and I met at a masquerade ball.”
“How exciting,” Beckett said. “I’ve never been to a masquerade ball.”
“It’s quite a lark when everyone dresses up,” Noah said, cheerier than ever as he swam a bit in his memories, or so Beckett assumed he was doing. “Marcus was dressed as a chevalier. I was made up like an exotic parrot. We were thrown together in a game, and we spent the rest of the evening chatting and getting to know each other. At least, that’s what we did while we were still at the club. When Marcus took me home, we got to know each other a bit more.”
He fluttered his eyebrows, which was more than Beckett would have dared do to explain the obvious in public.
“And things continued from there?” he asked, liking Noah and his boldness more with each passing moment.
“Oh, yes,” Noah said, a lascivious gleam in his eyes. “Frequently. Whenever we could find time for each other. We were insatiable for each other’s company. It was glorious.” He sighed loudly.
Beckett peeked around, attempting to gauge who was close enough to overhear them and whether he could get away with more personal questions.
“You moved in together?” he asked quietly when he was certain no one would sound the alarm.
“Yes, within a month,” Noah said, then took a large bite of flapjack.
His expression clouded over almost immediately as he chewed. It was fascinating for Beckett to watch. Without saying a word, by thinking of his past alone, Noah made Beckett feel as though he were getting the entire story of Noah and Marcus’s relationship. It must have been a wild one as well. Noah’s expression shifted from joy to sorrow and pain, ending with restlessness.
“I will win him back, you know,” he said, cutting up his flapjacks with a bit too much enthusiasm. “No force on earth can come between us. We were meant to be.”
Beckett glanced around anxiously. Noah was speaking too loudly. Someone would hear and know.
“That’s how I feel about Graham,” he said, keeping his own voice low so that Noah might catch on to the necessity of discretion. “I know the two of us are meant to be.”
“Why have you not already been, then?” Noah asked, bouncing back to cheerfulness.
“We havebeen, as it happens,” Beckett admitted, feeling his face flush. “Well, wewerethat one time.”
“Do tell,” Noah said, his green eyes flashing once more. The man truly did run through emotions as though he were a Coney Island roller-coaster.
Beckett looked around once more, and when he deemed it safe to continue, he said, “It was shortly after we met. I was new to The Slope. Some like-minded friends uptown had brought me down here one evening, and I fell in love with the freedom of the place. And I fell in love with Graham Ravenswood at first sight,” he admitted in an even quieter voice.
“He is handsome, I’ll give you that,” Noah said.
