But that’s not what he paid attention to. He watched Noah’s fingers trace his muscles. Watched as a hand that matched his in size, fucking caressed him.
He wanted to punch Noah.
Wanted to run.
Wanted to ask for more.
The touch shot up his arm as Noah explored. It wasn’t like they’d never touched each other before, but this was different. This was…intimate, which in a lot of ways, Cooper felt was a stupid word for what they were doing, but it was all he could come up with.
Noah’s fingers traced his, as though he was drawing them. Then slowly…slowing trailed up his arm.
Push him the fuck away!
Cooper knew he shouldn’t but he watched—fascinated—and just felt.
Noah’s fingers brushed his hairs as they ran up his forearm. His bicep. Cooper shivered. Couldn’t take his eyes away.
Noah reversed his path, heading down again. Cooper risked a glance at him to see awe in Noah’s eyes as he watched what he was doing to Cooper. Which made no sense. This was normal for him. It was what he did, but that’s the only way Cooper could explain it.
When he got to Cooper’s wrist, he circled it with his fingers. They touched. A woman would never be able to wrap one hand fully around his wrist like that.
And he liked it—the way they matched in so many ways. The masculinity of another man’s hand on him. He fucking did, and he tried to blame all sorts of things: having his friend back in his life after all these years, drinking tonight. None of it was true though, and he knew it.
Noah lifted Cooper’s hand toward him. Coop’s dick ached, and the fist around his chest tightened. His brain screamed at him to use his fist to punch Noah in the face, but he didn’t. He watched, savoring the large hand touching him. The way his body over-heated, trying to burn any conflicting thoughts.
Watched as Noah bent toward his hand. Watched as Noah pressed his lips to Cooper’s swollen knuckles. Watched as Noah’s eyes squeezed tight, his mouth still pressed to Cooper’s hand, the action somehow traveling up his arm, until he felt it everywhere.
And then, Noah’s eyes opened. He pulled away and Cooper finally let a heavy breath escape his lungs. A plea for Noah to touch him again, echoed through his brain.
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Noah said, before he stood up. “Nothing at all.”
He took a few steps backward and Cooper wanted to ask him to stop. Ask him where he was going, but he didn’t. Couldn’t. Part of him hoped Noah would walk out the door and never come back, because if Noah left, he could forget about wanting him. Coop could block these thoughts from his head and keep going the way he had been for his whole life.
But the other part… It wanted to trap him here. To find a way to keep Noah to himself, so he could explore the desires inflaming him.
“Take care of your hand. You should clean it and wrap it. I…I…” For the first time all evening, Noah skipped over his words, but found his ground quickly. “I have to go, before I do something both of us will regret in the morning.”
And like that—no shirt and all, he walked away, grabbing his keys off the table, and slammed the door.
Cooper didn’t stop him. All he could do was sit there and look at his hand.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Noah’s whole body fucking trembled. He had to try three times to get the key in the ignition. The second he did, he cranked the engine and sped out of the driveway, as fast as he could. He had no idea where he was going. All he knew was he had to get the hell out of there. He had to fight against every nerve ending, every little thing in his body, that clawed and yanked and pulled at him to go back. To go inside the house and taste Cooper’s mouth.
To feel every inch of hard, muscled skin with his hands and his tongue. To fuck him, over and over and over, even if it killed him.
Had he ever wanted anyone with the passion that he desired Cooper? His best friend? The person who helped him get through his pain because of his parents when he was a kid, and who had been ripped away from him? No, Noah hadn’t known it at the time. He hadn’t realized what Cooper meant to him, but since coming back home, he got it.
He’d probably always wanted Coop. Maybe always would.
The shitty part was, no matter how much that need filled him up, no matter how hard his cock was beneath the fly of his jeans, or how hard his heart slammed into his ribcage, he couldn’t touch, taste or have, Cooper. He wouldn’t risk losing him, when Coop freaked out about it later.
It didn’t matter that Noah saw Coop’s desire…his curiosity and maybe even a portion of the same need Noah felt. Cooper wasn’t gay, didn’t realize he was, or he didn’t want to be. And Noah swore he would never hide whom he was with, ever again. Not the way he had with David, only to get betrayed. And what chance did they really have anyway? Coop had told him before that he didn’t see himself ever being serious with someone. But hooking-up and then breaking-up risked their friendship.