Buzz (The Riley Brothers Book 1) (15 page)

“So, the date for the art show is August eleventh. Noah, will that give you enough time?”

Noah was distracted enough to need a nudge from Jay. August eleventh. It was the end of the summer, months away, but he knew something was happening that day. What the hell was it? It wasn't his exhibition, that was much sooner.

Oh, Christ. The Moncton hockey game.
He'd just been to see Jason a couple days ago about getting the arena for the big intercity match – that was why it was stuck in his brain.

But he couldn't back out of Jay's art show for career, charity, and friendship reasons. Likewise, he couldn't back out of the hockey game. The guys were counting on him, weren't they?

“Er, no, that's okay,” Noah told them, rubbing his chin as he took out his phone. “The eleventh? What time?”

“Seven to ten-thirty.”

The game's at seven, too. Oh, boy.

Noah wished he were back in bed with that gorgeous, affectionate hunk. Somehow, his life had become complicated enough that he'd be letting people down any which way.

It wasn't life or death to attend the art show, but as the curator, he'd be practically required to be there. Likewise, as one of the leaders of the hockey club, he was supposed to be there, too. Then again, he wasn't the team captain – that was Kevin, an enthusiastic, young, yet experienced university player.

Something would have to give, and the match couldn't be rearranged; Moncton had already booked their bus.

Maybe he'd just run away with Cam that day... Except Cam was joining the team, too.

Can he play in my stead?

He tried to shake off the thoughts. He had all summer to figure this one out.

***

“Behind you-- oh, Art!” Noah groaned as his friend completely missed the ball skidding along the pavement behind him. Ray hooked the ball around his blade and was off down the pavement.

They were the only three there yet, but as guys showed up, they joined in. The game began once they had enough to form teams.

“That your new friend?” Ray asked, pausing long enough to gesture with his stick towards the ball field entrance.

Noah glanced towards the gate, then nodded. “That's Cam.” He hadn't been specific about how he knew Cameron, just said another guy was interested in joining. He hoped Cameron wouldn't be questioned any more than the other guys he'd recruited.

And he hoped Cameron was some good. They weren't a serious club by any stretch of the imagination, but a few of the guys here were competitive.

“Hey, Cam,” Noah called out, jogging to the edge of the concrete pad and through the fence gate. “We always bring a couple extra sticks. We don't have any other gear right now, but they want us to have some safety gear when we're in the arena.”

“All right,” Cameron agreed easily. He was dressed in loose shorts and a t-shirt, both of which still managed to cling to his fuckin' hot body.

Noah saw a few other guys approaching, so he offered Cam his choice of sticks and waited while Cam picked them up and eyed them. “I'll introduce you to the rest of them.”

Cam chose one, squinting with one eye down the length of the stick and balancing it on a finger. It slipped sideways, but he caught it and hefted it, testing the weight. “Okay. This one. Thanks.”

He introduced each of the guys as they approached. It was easy since Cam bantered with them no problem and asked them about the club, giving Kevin the chance to brag a little. When Kevin mentioned the Moncton game, Cameron's expression flickered and he nodded without commenting, then asked how many guys there were.

Noah kept his distance, letting them all bond a little before gesturing. “Come on, the day's getting old.”

“Kevin – we got positions?” Cameron asked, glancing up and down the court to assess it. He sensed that Kevin was the captain, then.

Kevin nodded. “But we play in all of them. You better at anything?”

“Rotating, wow. Keep me on my toes. I'm used to forward... right-winger, if I can. Do we have that many players?”

“Depends who shows up,” Kevin told him and Cameron nodded.

Noah laughed under his breath. “You've played before, then.”

“Yeah, for a while,” Cameron answered, shaking out his shoulders. “Who's got the puck? Er, ball.”

As more guys showed up, they joined in, fleshing out the teams. Noah was thankful that Kevin put Cam on his team; while Cameron got the right-winger position he'd asked for, Noah took right defense. That gave him a great view of Cameron's muscled thighs and ass. Not just that, but the way his shirt pulled tight over his shoulder blades and his head moved as he kept watch on the ball and everyone else.

The way he ran was fluid, like he was expecting skates under his feet. Noah had to laugh a little – most kids in Canada had played ice hockey at some point, but ball hockey was different without the momentum of ice.

Cameron was
good
, too. Despite his casual attitude and laughter, he kept getting into focus. He was competitive, then, too. Noah jogged forward as Cameron pirouetted to avoid Ray's defense and turned left, looking for someone to pass to. With nobody there, he backed up a pace and Kevin snuck his stick in to steal the ball.

“Fu-- oh, you little,” Cameron grumbled as the guys laughed. He jogged backward while Noah had to shift his focus from Cameron's body to the game to try to challenge Kevin.

They didn't push themselves to the limit that day, leaving Noah the chance to look around sometimes and gauge who was there. Just about everyone had shown up, which was a great sign.

There was someone in the parking lot, too, watching them. Maybe someone waiting to use the court for their own practice... or someone who wanted to join in? He squinted, but he couldn't see much more than a guy sitting in the driver's seat.

A little creepy.

“Hey!” Cameron's sharp call snapped Noah out of it and he sprinted left to back up Jonathon.

“Over here!”

The second Noah caught the ball with his stick and turned to pass up the court to Cameron, Cameron was exactly where he needed him to be.

Cameron was watching him just as closely, anticipating his every need.

The thought made Noah shiver before he slapped the ball up to Cameron. Cameron rolled it down the blade to the back to spin it around Kevin's blade once, then twice. He hip-checked him out of the way and passed it.

Every contact Cameron made with a guy on the other team made Noah's jealousy flare up, even though he knew it was ridiculous. Cam was there for and with him.

When they called the game quits an hour later, Cameron was sweaty but breathing easier than the rest of them as he approached. “Cool.”

“You
do
work out a lot,” Noah complained. He was flushed with heat and resisting the urge to double up for breath. He leaned heavily on his stick instead. “Fuck your composure.”

Cameron laughed with shock and shoved Noah lightly. “Hey, don't hate. We won.”

“True.” Noah straightened up and wiped his forehead. “So you in for the game versus Moncton? You could be the secret weapon. You're pretty good.”

Amusement flashed through Cameron's expression, then a wary moment. “Maybe. I gotta... watch my back with this,” Cameron admitted, walking down the court to drop off his stick as Noah followed.

“Oh.” Noah had no idea what that meant. Cameron
had
been worried that it would be too serious. Maybe he had stress management issues. “Yeah, no problem. Nobody's forced to. Well, you know, me and Kevin and Rick – the guys who organize it – are... but other than that...”

Cameron flashed him a little smile. “We'll see.”

Noah remembered the guy he'd seen in the parking lot earlier and glanced up to scan the lot, but that car was gone now.

Huh. Must have given up.

Something niggled at the back of his mind, but he set it aside. “Going out for beers with us?”

Cameron relaxed and clapped Noah's shoulder, rubbing with his thumb before letting go. “Hell, yeah.”

Jackson had to get away. He'd come home only to trip over Cam's shit in the front hall and then make them both supper. He and his friends were out for drinks at the local bar, and his temper was cooling off as fast as it heated up. Close quarters weren't easy for anyone.

As Jackson leaned back and told his friends about forging a hockey stick, there was Cam: walking by the window of the bar.

And Cam wasn't alone.

Of all the fuckin' people, he was with Noah, the art director of the very show Jackson's piece was appearing in.

The very openly gay Noah, who'd come here this winter with his lisp and tight clothes and an ever-bright smile.

It didn't take a brainiac to put two and two together.

Crap. I guess that's why he hasn't been moving his boxes or tidying up.
Jackson's eyes followed them as they strode past the window.

Cameron brushed a hand down Noah's arm, and Noah was enraptured. A game smile lingered on his lips as he listened to whatever Cameron was saying. Noah laughed and bumped his shoulder against Cameron's to point up to the cocktail bar across the street.

They crossed the street hand-in-hand, jaywalking as Cameron boldly led them. Noah lingered reluctantly, making Cam tug his hand to get him to jog across the road.

Before Ashley and Ryan followed his gaze and outed Cam, Jackson hastily snapped back to the conversation.

Even in those ten seconds, that was more chemistry than he'd ever seen between Cam and Nathan. And Noah was sweet, from what he knew – maybe a little fussy, but sincere and honest. He knew his shit about art. He was a curator or director or something at the local gallery.

Jackson bit his lip and signaled the waitress for another round of beers. “My turn.”

Cameron couldn't blame Jackson for his annoyance. Jackson was a bachelor used to living alone in a small house. Now he was boxed in by Cam's clutter and his own, and he'd always had a low tolerance for clutter.

That was just one of the reasons Cam looked forward to the house closing. Also, besides having the biggest financial decision of his life hanging over him, he wanted a nice place to bring Noah.

He scanned the living room for messy spots, then tidied up a few of them. Once the place looked a little better, he hauled up a few tubs to the guest bedroom and found a spot to stack them.

“Good enough for now.”

Something more urgent called him.

Cam shoved on his shoes, he fished his phone out of his pocket and dialed Noah's number. They'd parted ways after hockey and beer last night with a quiet kiss outside the bar. They hadn't been right within sight of Noah's buddies, but they weren't exactly hiding it, either.

“Hey, Noah. What's up tonight? Working?”

“No, I'm off. Why?”

“I'd like to see you.”

“Sure. Wanna come over?”

“I was thinking I'd take you out for a cocktail...” Cameron trailed off with a meaningful smile. He moved his phone to his other ear and locked up Jackson's house. Jackson was long gone, probably to walk off his temper and have a drink.

“Oh,” Noah murmured, and Cameron pictured the smile accompanying the surprised sound. “Yeah, that'd be great.”

Cameron kept his voice down as he trotted down the steps to the sidewalk. “I mean, unless you
really
wanted to spend every date in your bed...”

“Cam!” Noah laughed. “Not that I'd say no. Okay, are you on your way over?”

“Mmhmm. There in fifteen. Be ready to drink and dance,” Cam teased. “I'm assuming you like to dance.”

“I love to dance. See you.”

Cameron smiled, pocketing his phone again as he strode down the sidewalk with a mission in his step. He wanted to have Noah on his arm every night. It was becoming obvious that they had to talk about their relationship.

Maybe not tonight, though. They could have another fun date first – not that Cam thought there was much he was waiting to find out about Noah. Noah had been honest and forthright from the beginning about his intentions and who he was, and Cam loved that bravery.

Braver than me.

Cam had to tell the truth about at
least
the heart problem. He'd hide the “former professional hockey player” bit for a little longer so Noah didn't get starstruck like Cam had had happen before. It was only fair to tell the guy he was seeing that he couldn't have sex
too
much or play hockey
too
hard or even get into a stressful argument.

Cameron smiled when Noah clattered down the porch steps in tight black jeans, silver shoes, and a strappy silver top under a stunning blue sweater with art screen-printed on the silk. Noah's coat was half-closed so he didn't know what painting it was.

“A masterpiece,” he gestured towards Noah. “And the sweater's cute, too.”

Noah blushed and came to hook his arm around Cameron's. “You flatter me too much. My ego will explode.”

Cameron bumped their hips together. “It's not flattery if it's the truth.”

“It is too,” Noah laughed, leaning up to peck his lips. “How was your day?”

“Quiet,” Cameron admitted. “Made a few calls and recovered from yesterday, pretty much.”

“Oh, God, I felt it when I woke up,” Noah groaned, tipping his head back to gaze up at the evening sky. The sleek line of his throat, only broken by his Adam's apple, made Cameron lick his lips. “I barely got up.”

Cameron fought the urge to laugh. In truth, that had been part of a morning's workout for him, but he didn't want to make Noah feel bad. “It was intense,” he agreed. “You didn't play last year?”

“I only moved here six months ago--”

“Oh, right, right. Sorry,” Cameron chuckled. “I forgot. No ice hockey over the winter?”

“No. God, no. I'd freeze,” Noah exclaimed. “And get crushed. Do I look like I'm built to be smashed into boards?”

Cameron's lips twitched and he glanced over to let his eyes flicker down Noah's slender body. “You're built to be smashed into walls, and doors, and staircase landings...” He freed his arm to run his hand down Noah's back. Cam hooked his arm around Noah's waist to pull him against him with a quick, playful jerk. “And mattresses...”

The sun hadn't set enough to hide the fact that Noah was blushing hard. Nonetheless, he was bantering right back, his arm sliding around Cameron's shoulders. “I like the way you think.”

“And fuck,” Cameron whispered, leaning in to press a kiss against the corner of Noah's jaw. A shiver ran down Noah's spine. Cam smirked, loosening his hold a little as he raised his voice again. “But that's for later.”

“Yeah,” Noah murmured, nearly tripping over a crack in the sidewalk from his inability to tear his eyes away from Cameron's.

“Eyes on the road,” Cameron teased. He appreciated that he had that effect, but he didn't want Noah to smack into a telephone pole or something.

Noah pulled away a little and touched his face as if regaining his composure. Cameron's ego swelled even more. “What bar were you thinking?”

“Skylight? It's new since I moved away but it looks like the kind of place we could go... Are they open Wednesdays?”

“Yep. Good choice. It's not the gay bar. Fuck, the single gay bar here and all the straight students in it...” Noah rolled his eyes.

Cameron laughed. “Hey, you don't know they're straight. You would've thought I was,” he teased.

“Nah,” Noah said. He smirked as they waited at a red light. “I could have sussed you out in a few seconds.”

“How?” Cameron laughed. Noah sounded so confident in himself.

“A little dirty dancing in just the right spot... eye contact...” Noah ground against his side, then took his hand to lead him across the road, his steps light and grin playful. “Get you to buy me a drink or two...”

“You were bold in Ottawa.”

“Not usually,” Noah laughed. “But with a hunk like you on the line... Everyone's gotta play dirty to get the one they want to go home with.”

Cameron squeezed Noah's hand, then laced their fingers as they approached the lights of downtown. “I'm impressed.”

Noah let go of his hand and drew away a little, giving him a moment's glance up and down. “Then you just pull back a little and see if they follow...”

Even though he registered Noah's words, Cameron didn't process them until it was too late. He was zig-zagging to follow Noah and get closer to him. “Oh.” He brushed a hand down Noah's arm. “You're a lot cleverer than I was back in university. When I was here, I just sort of hung out and waited for guys to choose me...”

Noah laughed, then pointed up. “There's the Skylight. Let's cross the street over there.” Their bodies brushed as Noah leaned into Cameron's shoulder.

Cameron snorted and reached out to grab Noah's hand. “We can cross here. Traffic's light.” He stepped off the sidewalk.

“And if we get caught jaywalking?” Noah rooted his feet for a moment, making Cameron glance back and tug him.

“I'll flutter my lashes,” Cameron deadpanned. “I can unbutton my shirt, if that'll help.”

Noah laughed and shook his head but followed as Cameron led him across the road to the bar Noah had pointed out.

They hadn't had a sip of alcohol yet, but Cameron's heart soared and his hands tingled every time he looked at Noah.

***

Over the first few cocktails, they chatted about their days. Cameron shared his frustration at waiting another three weeks for the house to close, and Noah vented about the flaky arena board of directors.

Noah perked up, dragged out of his funk by a sudden thought. “You know, I know a lot of local artists... How were you thinking of decorating your new place?”

Cameron raised his eyebrow. “I thought with local art. Is that the right answer?”

“Is it true?” Noah was eager yet tentative.

Cameron smiled. “Yeah.”

“Okay. Well, I can get some deals. And there's some auctions and charity nights and stuff so I can bring you to those and get an idea of your style... Um, assuming you want to.”

“That'd be amazing,” Cameron said, and he meant it. Even his fancy-ass Toronto loft hadn't been very personal. “An expert touch. The only thing I want is my brother's. He does steel art.”

Noah got a funny look and Cameron hoped he wasn't biased against blacksmiths somehow. Some people thought blacksmiths only made medieval armor or swords. Yeah, his brother
did
make swords for local fencing clubs, but there was so much more to it.

Then, Noah asked, “Is your brother... Jackson Riley? Actually, is your last name Riley? I don't even know that yet!”

His brother's name made Cameron blink with surprise. “Yeah, it is. And yeah! That's my brother. What's your surname?”

“Clark.” Noah laughed. “I know your brother.”

Oh, boy. He'd better not mean he
knows
him.
Cameron shook his head. “Small town.”

He'd felt this claustrophobia before. Everyone knew at least one of his brothers, and there was nowhere he could go without seeing someone he knew. Even the bartender here had been in his university class years ago.

“Yeah. He's doing a piece for the art show, actually,” Noah told him. “Has he mentioned it?”

“Not much. He doesn't like to show off until he's done a piece, so I'm waiting,” Cameron shrugged. Now that he was worrying about how many degrees of separation there were between him and Noah, he couldn't get it off his mind. “You met him before?”

Noah paused, scanning Cameron's face His eyes narrowed, and then a smile burst over his face. “Oh, shit, no. I know what you're think-- no,” he laughed. “No, he's not my type.”

Cameron let out a breath of relief and nudged Noah with his toe. “Dude, don't scare me like that.”

Noah laughed and reached over the table to squeeze his hand. “Sorry! So, Cameron Riley... Are you a blacksmith, too?”

Cameron made a face. “No. My brothers and I are all pretty different. I mean, I've helped him out before, too, but... that was never my thing.”

“Ah,” Noah nodded. He was eyeing Cameron like he was trying to remember something.

Cameron had seen the exact expression before among hockey fans and guys he was dating, and sometimes those groups were one and the same. He'd made a policy of not sleeping with fans, just in case.

To distract Noah, he nudged him gently. “Hey, you up for dancing? Or are you going through the Yellow Pages in your brain?”

Noah snapped out of it and laughed. “Sorry. Yeah, I'd like to dance. I know a place close by.”

“Perfect.”

They finished their cocktails and headed to the club Noah chose, holding hands the whole way. This was a hell of a way to come out: on the arm of a hot little guy with a lightning-fast wit and a deep local knowledge.

And, thank God, not too deep a knowledge of the locals.

***

The blinking lights bounced off their bodies as they rotated, swishing up and down through the air and sometimes blinding Cameron.

Cameron's heart rate was a little up, but he was safe: he'd counted while Noah used the bathroom half an hour ago.

It wasn't his heart, but his legs telling him to stop dancing now.

“God, you gotta be tired out,” he laughed as one singer's voice faded into another.

Noah's face gleamed with sweat, but his eyes were sparkling and he had a gorgeous, healthy flush to his skin. Cameron had stayed close all night, not wanting anyone else to muscle in on this territory.

“Come home with me,” Noah invited him, sliding his arms around Cameron's neck. “Assuming you're not too straight for me, of course...”

Cameron laughed. “You caught me,” he teased, leaning in to kiss Noah. “Detective Clark.”

Noah winked and pulled him off the dance floor. They stumbled together, neither of them drunk but both high on each other and three hours of dancing. Pulsing music and flashing lights and sometimes singing along – Cameron off-key, Noah with sweet, melodic tones... The walk back to Noah's place was chillier than earlier that evening but it didn't take long. They were too busy swaying into each other. They hummed and laughed over nothing at all.

Noah fumbled to unlock the door and Cameron wrapped his arms around him from behind, kissing his shoulder and pushing the door open for him.

“Thank you,” Noah laughed and they almost tangled up as they stepped together into the house. They pulled off and discarded shoes and jackets. “Want some water?”

“No, that's okay,” Cameron assured him. “I haven't had that much.”

Noah nodded. “I should be all right, too.” He took Cameron by the hand to lead him straight upstairs to the bedroom.

They stripped off together, still grinding and kissing playfully. Nonetheless, Cameron didn't feel Noah pressuring him to fuck. It seemed they were both contented to just... be together that night.