Noah nodded. It was a lot of information to take in. ‘Do you get tested a lot?’ Noah was only starting to understand the gravity of change that would come from the life he was embarking on.
‘Ever since Joshua was diagnosed, I’ve been at least every month.’ Tears pooled in Adam’s eyes. It was the first time Noah had seen him express such raw emotion. He pulled him into a hug. ‘I should warn you, that if you are gay, it’s not for the weak-hearted,’ Adam whispered over Noah’s shoulder.
‘Whoever wanted to be weak-hearted?’ Noah whispered back. ‘Oh and you should know, even though you haven’t asked, that the whole thing with Opal, it was never …’ Noah didn’t want to sound cruel, so he kept it vague, ‘it was never likethis.’
It seemed like enough explanation for Adam.
They walked back to the house together, their hands brushing against each other, but neither daring to reach out and grasp.
Over dinner, Noah tried not to stare too much, but it was hard. Now that he knew what it felt like to have those lips pressed against his, and those arms wrapped around him, how could he think of anything else?
‘You’ve barely touched your chicken Marbella.’ Opal had been quite subdued since the showcase. It was clear that some of the pieces had really affected her, but she was trying to put on a brave face.
‘It’s tasty, I’m just, not that hungry I guess.’ Noah didn’t want to be rude so he took a bite. The crispy, salty skin would usually have delighted him, but today it simply sat heavy on his tongue. Even the work of chewing and swallowing felt laborious. It was a waste of time really. He knew that however good the food was, it wouldn’t come close to satisfying the kind of hunger Adam had unleashed.
When Opal suggested a nightcap in the sitting room, Adam excused himself and Noah understood, gleefully, that the time had come. He tried to keep his cool, and waited an agonising ten minutes before making his own excuses to head to bed.
Adam was waiting for him at the top of the stairs and they fell into each other’s arms as though they had a thousand times before. Noah tried to contain himself as Adam scattered kisses down his neck, but a moan escaped his lips.
‘Shhh, not here.’ Adam had a mischievous twinkle in his eye. He led Noah to the library and pushed him against the back of the door. Noah held his breath as Adam sank to his knees and began to unbutton his flies.
‘I told myself that I’d let you sleep on it, try and give you the time to really think about if this is what you want.’ Adam’s eyes had dropped down, admiring the bulge stiffening beneath his fingers. ‘But I can’t wait; I need to taste you right now.’
Noah groaned; the anticipation had already been too much and now he was fit to burst. He tried to keep it together. Looking down Noah watched Adam take his cock out of histrousers. Even the light stroke of Adam’s palm as he handled him made Noah pant. All it took was the wetness of Adam’s mouth meeting him, hard and throbbing, and it was done. Noah doubled over in ecstasy, and the sound of his own pleasure rang in his ears.
When the pieces of the room around him began to knot back into view, Noah felt a jab of cold, sharp shame along with the realisation that that had beentoo quick.
‘I’m sorry,’ he murmured, not daring to look down. But then Adam was standing and it was harder not to look at him. As Noah began to fumble with his flies, he felt two fingers lift his chin up.
‘Look at me, Noah,’ Adam said, and Noah obeyed. ‘You don’t have to apologise, not to me or to yourself. You’re twenty-two; you’re horny. When I was your age I could come at the merest thought of being blown too, so don’t be ashamed.’
Noah fell into Adam’s embrace, as he released the mangled hybrid of a laugh and sob that bubbled from his throat.
Chapter 42
Heather knew in the back of her mind that she really ought to be revving up to the finish line, but then Ruby had barely left her side all week, and Heather couldn’t convince herself to feel anything other than totally fine with that. Most mornings Ruby would wake up first, and Heather would be lulled into an earlier morning that she’d hoped by a nuzzling in the crook of her neck. It had felt strange at first, how affectionate Ruby could be. That was until it felt totally normal.
Heather knew that she had a tendency to get ahead of herself but it was hard not to feel like she and Ruby were somehow meant to be. How else to explain the likelihood of them being chosen from opposite ends of the country to end up in next-door bedrooms.
This morning, though, Heather had roused first, and she took a moment to admire the sight before her. Ruby’s curls, glinting almost gold in the shards of nascent sunlight, were splayed across the pillow and her mouth was slightly agape, her lips soft and pink. Ruby’s eyelids fluttered and Heather felt her heart do the same. It was in these moments of observing that Heather could take the time to really appreciate her luck, and how close she’d come to passing it by.
When Opal had opened the door and led her to this ridiculous bedroom, Heather had considered turning straight around and heading back to Glasgow – as long and arduous as the journey had been. In the dimly lit corridors of the house on that first night, looking at Opal was almost like looking at a strange parallel version of herself. A slimmer, richer, straighter, older version. It made Heather uneasy, and she had lain in bed letting her imagination run wild, that there weren’t any other guests and she was the subject of some twisted rich woman’s Gothic fantasy. She’d tried to reassure herself that Gareth would not have set her up like that, but she had left her bags by the door, still packed.
In the cold light of day, Opal looked different, and nothing like Heather really. Her hair was paler, and her skin clearer of freckles. She was quite a bit taller than Heather, and had far less of an arse. Still, Heather was uneasy. This wasn’t exactly punk rock, to be put up in a manor house in the Home Counties, to battle it out against other artists for a cash prize.
It had been her sister who had convinced her to come. ‘Free bed and board, and you could even sublet your studio for a little extra dosh while you’re gone!’
Walking into the orangery for breakfast, Heather had wondered how long it would take to walk into town to the phone booth and rail against Amanda’s terrible judgement. That was until Ruby had walked in, with her dark baggy corduroys, black angora cardigan and a pissed-off expression on her face. Heather was smitten. Not that she showed it of course; in fact she made an extra effort to look unimpressed with everything. After they had eaten, though, she rushed back to her bedroom to unpack.
That first week, she hadn’t been able to work up the courageto even speak to Ruby, never mind that she seemed caught in the cross-hairs of that twat, Johan. It occurred to Heather that Ruby might be a lost cause, a straight girl through and through, but she could never quite get that thought to stick. Each time she began to lose hope, Ruby would throw her a glance or make a disparaging comment about Johan that kept Heather on the hook.
And now here they were. Heather was propped up on her elbow, admiring the view when Ruby opened her eyes. Her lazy smile lit up her face. ‘Morning.’
‘Morning. You must have been knackered; it’s almost ten.’ Heather slumped back down onto her pillow. ‘This isn’t a holiday, you know. We have some real important work to do.’
Heather was teasing, but if she was being honest with herself, there was a small seed of anxiety that had begun to bloom inside her. She was worried that she was doing that thing again, where she got so caught up in a new relationship that her art suffered. Even getting the last challenge finished in time had been a struggle, what with the siren call of afternoons spent in bed with Ruby. And now they only had a few days left until she had to reveal a whole new piece, which she hadn’t even started …
‘Well, you’ve only got yourself to blame,’ Ruby replied. Heather genuinely considered for a moment whether Ruby could read her mind, before realising she was responding to what she’d saidout loud.
