“So, is that a yes or a no?”
“Get it yourself.” Alistair’s tone was scolding, but he was smiling as he tidied up the dishes.
“Fine.” Noah hopped off the barstool and went to the fridge to get the ketchup. There wasn’t much left in the bottle, and he took great joy in squeezing the bottle to make the most obscene sounds as he doused his eggs.
Alistair ignored him.
Finally satisfied, Noah returned the bottle to the fridge and sat back down to eat. “You know, this is really good.”
“How can you tell beneath all that ketchup?”
“No, seriously! Hey! It’s good!” Noah grinned. “I haven’t really ever had anybody cook for me before. I mean, there was this one guy who did this stir fry shit ’cause we were both wasted, but this is way better.” He took another eager bite.
“I’m very glad I rate above intoxicated stir fry.” Alistair finished cleaning up the dishes he’d used and poured himself a small glass of wine to sip.
“Thank you. Seriously.” Noah ate some more, clearing his plate and resisting the urge to lick it clean. “Damn.”
“My pleasure, dear Noah.” Alistair took the empty plate and put it in the sink. “Would you like some more?”
“No, I’m stuffed. Thanks.” Noah couldn’t stop smiling, and he got lost in Alistair’s eyes for a few moments. “Yeah. That was awesome. I’m good.”
“Ready to get back to bed?”
“Hell yeah.” Noah stifled a yawn with his hand. “And I’m ready for that massage you promised me.”
“Of course.” Alistair chuckled. “Let’s go, dear Noah.”
Noah was tired, full, and the satisfaction wasn’t limited to his stomach.
Having someone take care of him was new and strange, but Noah was starting to enjoy it. However long it would last was uncertain, but he was going to ride this crazy train for as long as he could.
But only if you can save Uncle Patrick’s life. You can’t fuck a murderer.
Right.
Almost forgot about that.
Alistair and Noah went back upstairs with Crybaby in tow, but Noah missed out on the massage.
The moment his head hit the pillow, he was asleep.
Chapter 10
Noah woke up refreshed, warm, and naked. At some point during the night, he’d pushed his way out of his robe and glued himself to Alistair’s side.
He was awake because Alistair was petting his hair and murmuring, “Time to get up, sweet boy.”
“Mmmph. What time is it?”
“Eight o’clock. I let us sleep in since you had such a rough evening.”
“That’s sleeping in?” Noah buried his face between Alistair’s shoulder and the pillows.
“Come along now.” Alistair tried to sit up.
Noah threw his arm over Alistair’s middle and pulled him back. “Mm, no.”
“No?”
