“Awwwww,” I croon, faking teary eyes and putting my hand to my heart.
“Shut up,” Noah grumbles.
I laugh quietly, walking into the kitchen and grabbing a beer from the fridge.
“So, what will happen, then?” I ask, sitting cross-legged on the couch next to Noah. “When the snow melts, will Kaleb be in trouble?”
What happened tonight was the locals’ fault, but I know if I wasn’t here it wouldn’t have happened at all.
“It’s not your fault,” Noah assures me, pointing the remote and clicking the TV on. “They were looking for you for a reason.”
“Why?”
He takes a deep breath and sighs. “Because for some people, it’s not enough that they have their share,” he explains. “They want it all.”
I study him as he scrolls the streaming choices. I’m not sure I know what he’s talking about, but at least it sounds like this didn’t start with me. I pull the blanket off the back of the sofa and cover up my legs, taking a drink of my beer.
The room falls quiet as we view the selections, but I’m not concentrating very hard. Noah is dressed in black pajama pants and a white sleeveless T-shirt, his skin still so tan and smooth, and I want to roll my eyes at myself for noticing. I just don’t get many opportunities to lounge around with them. They often stay up to watch TV at night, but I’m so wiped by the end of the day, I’m aching for my bed.
He settles on a film, something with Tom Cruise when he was younger, and I lie my head back, holding my beer as I try to watch.
The only thing I know about this movie is that he dances in his underwear, and I find myself constantly looking at Kaleb to see any sign of amusement. Or perhaps a foot tap to the music.
But his face is hidden behind the curve of the chair back, and his body barely shifts during the film.
There’s a decent soundtrack by Tangerine Dream, though. Unfortunately, Tom （or Joel） is a good kid, trying to lose his virginity at the behest of his stupid friends when his parents go out of town for a few days. So what does he do? He hires a hooker and turns his parents’ house into a brothel. It’s nothing more than a teen male fantasy, and I can’t believe this is the movie that turned him into a household name.
I roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest. “This film is so dumb.”
“Is it?” Noah asks, watching Joel and Lana have sex—in public—on a train. “Your laughing over there is sending me mixed signals.”
I never laughed. The comedy is subpar.
“This was similar to how I lost my virginity,” Noah offers, taking a swig of his beer.
I cock an eyebrow and look over at him. “A prostitute?”
“An older woman who only wanted one thing.”
“Your money?”
I hear a breathy laugh and look over, seeing Kaleb’s chest and stomach shake a little. Did I just…？ Did he just…？
Oh, my God. He laughed. At my joke.
I finish my beer and set the bottle on the coffee table, the glow from the fire the only thing lighting the dark room. “Well, I’m sorry things didn’t go better for both of you tonight.”
“What do you mean?”
“Last chance for overnight visitors,” I tease. “Nothing to play with this winter.”
Noah sits there a moment, looking like he’s contemplating something. “Maybe,” he says.
I narrow my eyes.
Maybe…
I nod. “You’re right. I mean, you can’t be the only people up here, right?” I ask. “There have to be other mountain men?”
He looks over at me. “Excuse me?”
“More warm bodies,” I clarify, maintaining a straight face. “There have to be more guys holed up in cabins up here, right? It’s okay. It happens in prison. Gay for the stay.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Excuse me?”
But before I can answer, he launches over, grabs my legs and pulls me down the couch toward him as he jabs me in my ribs.
I try to hold back my laughter, but a little bit escapes. “Stop.”
“What did you say?” He pokes my inner thighs, and I slap at his hands.
“Well, you are kind of metro.”
“And what about you?”
“What about me what?” I curl, shielding myself from his fingers in my stomach.
“I saw you dancing with Cici at the race.” He leans over me, continuing his attack of jabs. “Maybe same-sex heat turns you on.”
I let out sad, little laughs but plead at him with my eyes. “Stop it.” I shove his hands away, but they keep coming back. “I mean, it’s okay. You have to cope with the seclusion somehow, right?”