Long Pass Chronicles 01 - Outing the Quarterback (8 page)

“Kind of the same, I guess. Except for the mother part. I didn’t have one of those. I mean, not that I knew. I used to go to the Boy’s Club because they had painting supplies.” He stared out the window at the restaurants and shops. “People always wanted me to paint more like you. More dark and aggressive. No one could figure out why somebody with a chip on their shoulder the size of Utah would paint like fucking Monet. But that’s me.”

“How’d you get the chip?”

He shrugged. “That’s a long story.”

“How about lunch? You can detail over tacos.”

So not smart
. “I should get home.”

“To do what? Eat?”

He smirked. “Yeah.”

“Let’s go to the Roadrunner.”

He didn’t say no.
Dumbass
.

Will pulled into the right lane and picked up a little speed as traffic thinned on the way to south Laguna. The throaty rumble of the car translated to a low vibration that purred through Noah’s balls. Man, did that guy smell good. Kind of fresh and a little spicy. Noah’s dick was standing up to take a whiff. “Easy to understand why a man would like this car.” He chuckled.

Will glanced at him then back at the road. “Sexy, isn’t it?”

“On a stick, man.” He glanced out the window.
Keep it light
. “Bet it attracts a lot of girls.”

You could have driven the car through the hole in conversation.

Will cleared his throat. “Yeah. Girls like the car.” Silence. “Uh, I don’t mean anything by this, but aren’t you gay?”

Just stare out the window
. “Yeah.”

“Oh. Okay.”

He looked at Will over his shoulder. “It’s okay with you that I’m gay? Thanks. I was worried.”

“Cool the snark. I just meant okay, you weren’t asking me to pick up some girls to take to lunch.” Will laughed but it sounded a little forced.

Quit sniffing around. Just ask
. “Are you gay?”

He frowned. “Why would you think that?”

Noah shrugged. “Why did you decide I was gay?”

“I saw Masterson hitting on you. I figured he wouldn’t do that to a straight guy. He might get in trouble. Of course, he’s a teacher, even if he’s just some traveling expert. You could probably make him back off if you don’t want him slobbering over you. Imply you’re going to report him.”

Noah grinned. “Slobbering over me? You don’t think very highly of him.”

Will pulled into the parking lot at the restaurant but didn’t stop for the valet. He took one of the back spaces, turned off the car, and looked at Noah. “To be continued.”

They both climbed out. It was a long way up to standing from that seat. Will walked up to the valet, who looked damned disappointed he didn’t get to drive the car. Will led the way into the popular little taco place.

The music in the bar was at the threshold of pain to get it over the loud conversation of the drinkers. Will walked to the back and a pretty girl directed them to a table on the partly enclosed porch. The music faded as they maneuvered to the back of the restaurant. As they took their plastic seats, a flock of pelicans flew across the sky above the ocean view.

The waiter came for their orders, and they asked for fish tacos and iced tea.

When the waiter left, Will sat back in the patio chair. “Have you been here before?”

“Yeah. A couple times. I have more than one restaurant job, so I mostly eat at work.”

The green eyes flashed up at him. “You work hard.”

“Yeah. I have to live and pay for school. It’s a lot. I can only afford a couple courses a semester. And I live in Laguna, which is expensive even for a one-room shit hole, but I don’t have a car, so I need to be close enough to walk to work and school.”

Will leaned on the table and the ripcord muscles in those forearms were lickable. “I admire your ambition.”

“Thanks.”

“Where are your folks?”

Did he want to go there? “Dead.”
What the fuck
?
Why not tell him
? “I’ve been on my own most of my life. Mother was a crackhead. No father. Beat up by the junkie boyfriend. All the usual shit. Foster homes. Running away from foster homes. Going to more foster homes. I’m a movie of the week.”

“Shit, Noah.”

He screwed his mouth up and grimaced.

“What about the scar?”

Good on him. “I appreciate you asking instead of letting it be the fucking elephant in the room like most people.” The people who didn’t run screaming. “I was between foster homes and woke up in the park to some homeless guy carving me up with a beer bottle. I ran but he’d done a lot of damage before I could get away.” Why was he blabbing all this shit?

“That’s unbelievable.”

He nodded. “It was harder to get foster homes to take me after that. Which was fine with me. I hung out on my own.”

The waiter brought their tacos and he fell on them. He didn’t get good Mexican very often because he didn’t work in a Mexican restaurant.

Will chewed his fish but talked around it. “How did you manage to paint through all that?”

Noah shrugged. “Um, wherever I was, I always found a place with paints. Boys Clubs, some of the schools I went to had art classes, and I even hung out at a senior center once because they had a painting studio. I didn’t mind the old people and I loved those great paints.”

“If they put your life in a movie, nobody’d believe it.” Will downed the rest of his second taco.

“Yeah. Sometimes I don’t believe it. What about you? Why the fuck are you hiding your talent?” He bit into his fish, lettuce, and cheese.
Good
.

Will shook his head. “My dad didn’t mind my painting when I was little. He thought it was kind of cute. But he doesn’t think it’s cool for a grownup to be splashing colors on canvas. He wants me to come into his company.” Will said it pretty straightforward, but there was a world of hurt in that voice.

“And you don’t want to be the good little businessman?”

Will shuddered. “Sometimes I wake up sweating when I think about living my old man’s life. Shit.”

“Most people can’t make a living as an artist.”

Will pointed his iced tea at Noah. “That’s not discouraging you.”

He grinned. “I’m a great artist.”

“Modest too.” Will drank the rest of the tea. “I just want to finish my senior year, get my degree, and go off and live my own life.”

“Why do you care if you get some degree in business or something? That’s not going to mean a pile of crap to your art career.” He savored the last bite.

“I know. It’s complicated.” He waggled his finger at the waiter and, when the guy came over, Will handed him a credit card and he hurried away.

Noah sipped the last of his tea. “Thanks for lunch.”

“My pleasure.”

“So you never told me why you think Dwight is a slimeball.”

“Dwight? Oh, you mean Masterson. I don’t really. I’m a fan. His work is brilliant. It’s just that he’s what, forty?”

“Thirty-nine.”

“Yeah. And you’re, like, a baby. It seems a little weird.”

“I’m twenty-one.”

Those green eyes seemed to get deep like water. “Do you really like him?”

Noah shrugged. “To use a favorite line of yours, it’s complicated.”

The waiter brought the credit card statement, and Will signed, then stood. Noah got up too. Funny, he’d kind of enjoyed the lunch. Not just the food either. He worked so much, he didn’t spend time with friends, or even have time to make many. Shit, who was he kidding? Will Smith was sexy.

Noah followed Will out through the noisy bar. Outside, cars whizzed past but
dayum,
it was hard to remove his eyes from that flexing butt in the tight jeans. “How tall are you?”
Who said that?

“Six three and a half.”

“You’re a big guy.” Was he flirting?

“Yeah. I guess. My best friend’s six seven so I feel little.”

“The guy in the restaurant?”

“Yeah.”

Will gave the valet five bucks—
must be nice
—and they walked down the slope to the Ferrari, which had obviously not been moved in their absence.

Noah slid into the car and buckled up as Will started up the engine.
Straight to the balls.

Will piloted the car onto the street and pulled into the flow of traffic. “So is your place back toward town?”

“Yeah. A few blocks. Go to Nyes and turn right up the hill.” Noah settled into the soft, cushy leather.

Will clicked on the sound system, and Usher’s silky voice poured out.

Just stare out the window, man. Then you don’t have to stare at him
. The car felt close, almost claustrophobic. The scent of whatever Will wore that made him smell like something better than hot chocolate filled the space. The music seemed to pick up the vibration of the car and create one big symphony of dick teasing.

Noah changed butt cheeks. His cock needed room to breathe. It was stupid to get all horny over some rich, straight guy, but he’d been bribed with fish tacos and a ride in a Ferrari. Had he picked up a tiny smidge of jealousy when Will asked about Dwight?
Wishful thinking
. But, like, seriously, was he interested in this dude? Did he want to shove his cock into that unbelievably well-toned ass? Sad but true.

The Ferrari climbed the steep hill like it was flat. Noah glanced over, got one look at Will’s thigh muscles flexing in his jeans, and whipped his head back to the window. “Second house on the right.”

Will pulled up in front of the two-story modern house. “This is really nice.”

“Yeah, it is. But I live behind this house in a one-room apartment that was probably here just after the native tribes left. Want to see it?”
He had not just invited Will in!

The pause was long and Noah covered it by opening his door. “Thanks so much for the ride and the lunch.” As he stood up on the street, Will opened his door. He was coming in. Noah turned toward his apartment and started walking.
Okay, asshole, now what have you got planned?

W
ILL
FOLLOWED
Noah up to the low-rise structure that looked more like a shed than a house. Clearly the thing had been built sometime early in the twentieth century without a single permit. Noah unlocked the door, although a burglar probably could have ripped down the walls and gotten in easily.

Hell, Will couldn’t diss the place. He still lived at home.

Noah looked over his shoulder. “Home sweet home.” He walked in and Will followed.

Wow
. He was kind of aware that he was in one medium-sized room, but pretty much all he saw was the huge, softly impressionistic painting of a nude man on the wall opposite the front door. Gorgeous didn’t do it justice. It or him. The model was more boy than man, with long brown hair falling down a lean, curved back. Only his profile showed as he gazed off into space with a look of pure longing. Though the face was perfect and Will had never seen such an expression, it could only be one person. “It’s you, isn’t it?”

“Holy shit, how did you know that?”

Will looked at Noah. The guy’s eyes were wide and a little horrified.

“It’s you the way you are inside. Maybe the way you were outside once. Full of hope and longing for joy.”

Silence.

Will glanced over and caught the fast blink wiping out the unshed tears. “The painting is gorgeous. You’re an amazing artist. Really. I should hate you.” He grinned at Noah.

Noah’s face never left dead serious. “Do you?”

“What?”

“Hate me?”

Oh shit, he couldn’t catch his breath. “Of course not.” Change. The. Subject. He looked around. “So this is your place. Doesn’t look like much outside, but you made it really cool.” That was true. Against one wall a daybed, actually made, looked like it could hold one person spaciously and two tightly. Okay, why the hell did he think of that? An old but very serviceable sectional couch divided off the sleeping area and curved underneath that gorgeous painting, with a chair opposite it. The rest of the room contained a kitchenette with a microwave, an under-counter refrigerator, and a few cabinets, plus a small table and two straight-back chairs. “You’re so neat.”

Noah shrugged. “You have to be in a place this small. Sit.” He pointed at one end of the sectional.

Will sat. “I wonder if I’m neat.” He grinned.

“You don’t know?”

“No. I’ve always had a maid.”

Noah flipped a hand at Will. “Jeez. How do you keep your bathroom between maid visits?”

“Messy.”

“There you go.”

“I don’t know. If I thought I had to pick up that towel myself, I might reform real fast.” He leaned back. “I guess I should start practicing.”

“Never too early to grow up. Want a beer?”

Coach would kill him. Plus, alcohol looked pretty crappy after last night. “No thanks.”

“I’ve got iced tea.”

“Yeah. That’d be great.” Noah walked over to the kitchenette. Jesus, watching the guy move in a confined space with nobody else around was too much for Will’s overtaxed, underserved cock. He put his hands in his lap.