The Mormon and the Dom (17 page)

“Good for him.” Ronan waited for Noah to clarify why he was so sad. When he didn’t say anything, Ronan knew he was going to have to dig for answers. “Were your parents happy?”

“Thrilled. I’ve never—” Noah’s breath caught, and it was suddenly clear he was struggling not to cry. Ronan wanted to do something but had no idea what. Provo wasn’t that far from Salt Lake City but right now, it felt like it was a million miles away.

“Noah?”

“I’ve never seen them so happy. And my brothers were just talking nonstop about everything he’ll need to take and what he should be prepared for. But then everyone was looking at me.”

The problem hit Ronan like a slap of cold water.

“‘When are you going to apply, Noah? Where do you hope to go, Noah? Why haven’t you applied yet, Noah?’” Noah’s voice rose as he started tossing the questions out faster and more forcefully. “Instead of celebrating my brother Henry, they twisted everything around on me.”

“I’m so sorry.” Ronan didn’t know what else to say.

“I just sat there like a dummy and said I was still preparing spiritually.”

“Is that part of the process?”

“It’s the first step. I’m supposed to prepare spiritually and then temporally. Mind and body, you know?”

“I guess that makes sense.” Ronan didn’t want to ask the obvious question, but he knew he had to. “Do you want to go on a mission?” Ronan wanted to support Noah in everything he did. A mission would take him two years, and the church could send him anywhere in the world. As selfish as he wanted to be, Ronan couldn’t add to Noah’s burden. If Noah felt he needed to go on a mission, then Ronan would have to back him in that decision.

“How can I promote a religion that hates me?”

It was a question Ronan couldn’t answer. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”

There was silence on the line for so long Ronan thought they’d been disconnected. And then in a soft, hesitant voice, Noah whispered, “Hold me.”

“Where are you?” Ronan would drive for hours to be there for him.

“I’ll come to you.”

“Noah, you sound really upset. I don’t think you should be driving.”

“I’m okay. I swear I’ll be okay. I just want to be with you.”

“I’ll be here.”

Waiting was the hardest part. Ronan was hyperaware of every street sound. Eventually, he opened the garage door and waited anxiously for Noah to pull in. It was Thursday night, which meant Noah would have to work the next morning, but that was okay. Ronan would make sure he was up on time and ready to go. Hell, he’d make him breakfast. Ronan would be happy to do just about anything to have Noah in his bed for a whole night.

When Noah finally pulled up, Ronan’s relief was so profound he couldn’t wait for the garage door to close all the way before he was hauling Noah out of the car and into his waiting arms. Noah collapsed against him. For a long time, they simply stood in the garage, entwined. Ronan wished he could make things easier for Noah, but he couldn’t. There wasn’t anything he could do except be there for him.

“I’m okay. Thank you.” Noah stepped back and offered a brave smile that only conveyed how tortured he really was. Hurt stamped dark circles under his eyes and worry lines over his brows. He looked like he’d aged five years in a handful of days.

“Come on in. I’ll make you dinner.” Ronan was just turning toward the house when he noticed the driver’s side door of Noah’s car was badly scratched. Ronan wasn’t an expert, but even to his untrained eye, it looked like Noah had been the victim of vandalism. “What’s this?”

“Oh. That.” Noah slumped. He reached out and stroked his hand over the deep gouges in his paint. “My neighbor.”

“What happened with your neighbor?”

“Let’s go in, and I’ll explain.”

Since he had a feeling Noah wasn’t all that hungry, but he wanted him to eat something, Ronan settled on making a quick and easy pizza.

“Wow.” Noah settled at the table but turned to watch Ronan in the kitchen. “Good looks, kind heart, and you can cook?”

“I’m a renaissance man.”

“If you were a woman, I could marry you.” Noah blanched. “I’m sorry. That came out horribly wrong.”

“Don’t sweat it.” Ronan kissed the top of Noah’s forehead. “I am marriage material.”

“True. But you clearly aren’t a woman.”

“No.” From the pantry, Ronan pulled out a can of tomato sauce and assembled various spices. Luckily, he had a ball of dough in the freezer from his last batch of pizza, so he put that in the microwave to defrost. It would make the dough a little funky, but it would still be good. “Tell me about your neighbor.”

“Keith Kellerman. KK the Man to his buddies.” Noah rolled his eyes, uttered a long sigh, and then slumped down in his chair. “He’s lived across the hall from me for about two months now, and he’s been nothing but a pain.”

“Why?” Ronan poured the tomato sauce into a pan and started adding spices as it cooked. “Is he interested in you?”

“Hardly. He’s one of those superhetero guys whose always high-fiving everyone and thinks the only good fag is a dead fag.”

“Charming.” Ronan could also bet the guy was secretly into a little man-on-man action, which was why he was so vocally against homosexuality. It amazed him how many people who openly hated something were secretly fascinated by it.

“Indeed he is.” Noah shook his head. “He’s just a bully and a jerk.”

“So he’s been bothering you?”

“We have assigned parking spaces in front of the building. There’s a huge back part for visitors or if someone has an extra car. But it’s one assigned spot per apartment.”

Ronan nodded as he added sugar to the sauce.

“Anyway, Keith’s spot is over from mine by five spaces, but he insists on parking in mine.”

“Why?”

“Because he says it’s easier when he’s unloading his car. He says the sidewalk that leads up to the building is right by that spot, so it’s just easier.” Noah made a face. “I walked the distance from his spot. It’s thirteen steps. Thirteen freaking steps. And mind you, this is a guy who’s all about sports and staying in shape and runs around in the winter in shorts to show off his great body, but he won’t walk an extra thirteen steps!”

“Sounds like he’s just a bully.”

“Thank you! That’s what I think, too. There’s no reason for him to park in my spot other than to be a jerk and start trouble. I don’t want any trouble. I’ve asked him nicely not to park there or to move his car when he’s done.”

“Let me guess, he forgets?”

“Yes. He forgets. Or his buddy was going to do it. Or I just need to chill.” Noah sighed. “I honestly hate that expression since I’ve heard him direct it at me at least a hundred times.”

“Why don’t you just park in his spot?”

“Because he’ll have my car towed. I know he will. He’s that kind of a—a—a dick.” Noah lifted his head defiantly. “He’s a goddamn dick is what he is.”

Ronan got the district impression Noah didn’t swear. Ever. For him to call another person a
dick
was a struggle that he overcame only because Keith had pushed Noah beyond what he could endure.

“After being nice about the whole thing, I finally went to the apartment manager. He didn’t seem to care and didn’t offer to do anything. I said I was willing to switch spots with Keith, but we can’t do that, because the spots are assigned based on the apartment number. Seriously, the manager acted like there would be a disturbance in the time continuum if he switched them. I then asked the manager to tell all that to Keith.” Noah shook his head and rolled his eyes again. “I was woken up at two in the morning to eggs being thrown at my front door. Of course, I didn’t know they were eggs until I opened the door and got hit in the face.”

“How old is Keith?” From the way he was acting, Ronan was thinking he was twelve.

“He’s twenty-eight. I know because he had a huge, drunken party to celebrate.”

“That’s old enough to know better.”

“It is. It really is. When I sputtered out a question, he went into his apartment and slammed the door. I cleaned everything up—”

“From the carpet?”

“What? No. The hallway is outside. It’s like a split between the two halves of the building.”

“Oh.” That made it a little easier for Ronan to visualize. “You didn’t call the police?”

“For what? A prank?”

“It’s an assault, Noah. He hit you in the face with an egg.” Ronan went over and examined Noah’s face. There wasn’t a cut, but there was a slight bruise.

“The police have better things to do.” Noah looked away. “I was going to let it go, but then I went down to the parking lot to go to work this morning and found those marks on my car.” Noah pointed in the direction of the garage. “Not only had he scratched up the paint, but he’d let the air out of all the tires. They weren’t flat, which apparently saved the wheels—rims—whatever they are from being damaged, but I had to have a garage come out and pump them all back up. I was three hours late.”

“So you did call the police?”

“I did.” Noah again made that defiant head bob. “I tried everything I could to make the situation better, but nothing I did worked.”

“Because Keith didn’t want to work it out.” Ronan rolled the dough out into a circle and let it rise while he continued to tweak the sauce. “Guys like that like to fight.”

“Is that what it is?”

“If he’s anything like some of the dicks I went to college with, then, yeah. That’s probably what it is.”

“Why? I just don’t understand why anyone would want to have all that unnecessary stress in his life.”

“Because he has no life.” Ronan shrugged. “He’s probably just another drama junky who can’t stand not having something going on.”

“That is so sad.” Noah sighed. “But why me? Out of all the people living there, why did he pick me?”

“Because you’re nice.” Ronan turned the oven on to preheat. “You’re a nice guy, Noah. You’re quiet, clean, and you keep to yourself.”

“How do you know?” Noah asked archly. “Maybe I throw parties every weekend and get so drunk I pee off the balcony.”

“I have a feeling that would be Keith and not you.”

“You’d be right about that. I’ve never been drunk. Alcohol makes me feel sick almost as soon as I drink it.”

“But you’re okay with heroin?” Ronan popped the joke off to get Noah to relax a bit.

“Yeah.” Noah laughed. “I can take a shot of that but not a shot of whisky.”

“Me, too. Opioids are the thing this year.” After a short laugh, Noah’s scowl returned.

“I just—what does he get out of being such a jerk? What’s the benefit?”

“It gives him something to do.” Ronan shrugged. “The guy in my dorm would start out playing pranks on someone, usually the quietest guy on the floor. They were harmless—at first. But the more the nice guy let them go without reprisal, the more the dick would hassle him. The pranks would get meaner until the nice guy either moved or gave him back some of his own medicine.”

“Is that what you think I should do with Keith?” Noah seemed appalled at the very idea.

“God, no! Don’t retaliate. If you do, Keith’s reaction will be righteous fury. He’ll think you’re really asking for it and go after you with no holds barred.”

“That’s what the guy in your dorm did?”

“When one of the nice guys gave him back the exact same prank—you know the one where you put shaving cream in a sleeping guy’s hand, then tickle his nose?”

“What’s the point of that?”

“The sleeping guy scratches his nose and gets a face full of suds.”

“Oh. Childish.”

“Yeah. But it’s harmless and less messy than putting his hand in warm water while he’s sleeping.”

Noah’s raised his eyebrows rather than asking a question.

“It’s supposed to make you urinate, but I don’t know if it actually does. Anyway, one of the nice guys—sorry, I forget his name—did that back to the dick after the dick had done it to him. The dick didn’t think it was funny at all. In retaliation, the dick called up the nice guy’s parents and said the nice guy had died in an accident.”

“That’s horrible!”

“I know.” Even back then, when Ronan had been in that transition from teen years to adulthood, he’d recognized a huge difference in his maturity level compared to his contemporaries. “His folks were frantic to get information and—it was a mess.” Ronan had tried to put an end to the situation, but there wasn’t a lot he could do. “Even the resident advisor couldn’t get the dick to stop being a dick. Your apartment manager might have recognized that with Keith. Or not. Some people just really don’t want to get involved.”

“Well, he’s going to have to now.”

“Why?”

“After the car thing, the police went and talked to Keith, who denied everything but when asked to produce his keys, they were covered in paint shavings that matched the color of my car.”

“Ooh, that must have been difficult to explain.”

“He said someone stole his keys, messed up my car, and then put his keys back in his pocket.”

“Please tell me the police didn’t fall for that.”

“They didn’t. They issued him a ticket or a citation for criminal vandalism. To make a bad situation worse, Keith then swore he was going to kill me.”

Everything inside Ronan turned to water and tried to run out through his toes. Crazy drama junkies were not to be taken lightly. The dick from Ronan’s dorm was eventually taken to jail when one of his pranks resulted in the victim breaking his arm and almost dying. As much as he didn’t want to alarm Noah, Ronan wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t say something.

Leaving the sauce for the moment, Ronan went over and crouched down in front of Noah. “I don’t want to be an overly protective boyfriend, but I would take his threat very seriously.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Yes.” Ronan found it rather sweet that Noah got hung up on that particular word. “I’m your boyfriend. Moving on. This Keith guy isn’t someone you should dismiss. He sounds dangerous.”

“That’s why I had to get out of there.” Noah shook his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that to sound like I didn’t want to see you. I wanted to see you, too, but I also just couldn’t spend another night there wondering when he was going to get out of jail and what he would do when he did.”