Page 3 of Noah (Salish Sea Society #1)

Morning seemed to come sooner than it should. Going out for pie with Brody last night had me out until past two. The alarm on my phone had gone off at the usual 7 am. I nearly snoozed it, rolled over, and went back to sleep. But it was Saturday, and I had a full day ahead of me.

I groaned as I pulled myself out of bed and headed to the shower. Normally, I would have had a shower last night, but being awake for nineteen hours had done me in. The hot water felt good, but it made it too easy for me to close my eyes on the verge of slumber.

I thought back to last night and that perked me up. Brody really was beautiful. I liked that he was soft-spoken like he was almost unsure of himself. His questions came across as measured. Friendly but deliberate as if he'd memorized a script. The entire conversation had been one-sided. I picked up quickly that he didn't want to answer any questions about himself, so I backed off.

Maybe his life in general was the source of his sadness. Or maybe the softness in his eyes was just him. Steadfast and intelligent. I had found the way he looked at me to be calming.

I tried to hang on to that sense of calm as I shoveled spoonfuls of Fruity O's cereal into my mouth. I would put on the coffee pot when I arrived at work. I looked out the window. November was typically cold and raining in Victoria and today was no exception. I called up a taxi app on my phone and booked a cab. I was close enough to work to walk but not in this weather .

My cab driver was someone I'd never ridden with before, so our conversation was restricted to small talk. I knew quite a few of the cabbies quite well having ridden with them often. Some of them made appearances in my pub for a pint after they finished their shifts. It was one of the things I loved about Victoria. It was just the right size. Big city feel but not big enough that you didn't run into the same people frequently. Plus, we prided ourselves on being friendly.

I unlocked the front door of the pub. We didn't open until 11 am. I would have a couple of hours to myself before staff started to arrive. I'd only be sticking around until two in the afternoon. Saturday was my allotted time to volunteer at the LGBTQ Rainbow Youth Centre. I'd nip in for a couple of hours, hang out with the kids, and be back at the pub in time for the dinner rush.

After flicking on the coffee pot to brew, I went straight to the office. The desk had been tidied. Maddy must have organized everything after she completed the closing paperwork. I flicked on the computer and checked my email. The accountant had sent over the latest income and expense sheets. I was afraid to look and rightly so. I dragged my hand through my hair. We were barely breaking even. I needed to fix things. I knew there were areas of operation and presentation to work on but maybe I wasn't being thorough enough. I went through a list in my mind.

First was marketing. Obviously, something wasn't working. It needed to be revamped and streamlined so it ran like clockwork. New graphics were needed for the website. I'd need to check our listings on the search engines. I needed to contact our social media person and light a fire under their ass. We needed to be posting at least three times a day on all platforms.

I pulled out Maddy's closing report. Once again … a lull at 11 pm. What the hell was causing that? Perhaps the en tertainment needed to be stepped up. The Friday night band had enjoyed a residency for the past fifteen years. Maybe it was time they were retired.

I needed to contact the booking agent to see if we could get some bigger name cover bands with an existing following to play on weekends. There shouldn't be a lull happening.

I called up the program for scheduling the employees. There had been quite a few new hires over the summer but now most of them were back at university. Thankfully. Now that cruise ship season was over, our established employees needed as many hours as I could manage.

Maybe the staff needed a refresh. A retraining of the front-of-house servers, bartenders, and managers that included tests relating to the drinks and food menu. If an employee didn't score well, their hours would be cut back. It was brutal, but I felt like it needed to be done.

I knew I had a problem with wanting perfection but figured it motivated me. I was always chasing that elusive success that would make my parents proud of me.

I spent the next couple of hours working on the schedules for the front-of-house staff and the managers for the next two weeks. I left the kitchen scheduling to the kitchen manager.

One of the day managers, Brian, a bartender, and two servers were busy setting up when I emerged from the office. We'd be opening in a few minutes. I'd help where I was needed until I had to leave for the centre. I reminded myself to ensure I stopped to have lunch before I left.

I ended up behind the bar. The lunch crowd was steady. It was quiet mixing drinks during the day compared to when Liam was there. I looked at my phone. It was 1:00. Liam would be awake by now. He tended to sleep in, not going to bed as soon as he was home from work.

More likely than not, he ended up hooking up with someone .

Then who knows how late he'd been awake.

I ordered some lunch, went back to the office, and called him. His deep scratchy voice answered the phone. He sounded like he'd had more than food in his throat last night.

"Did the axe murderer get you last night?" Liam started.

"Turns out … not an axe murderer."

"Then what did he want?"

"Sex."

"Figured as much. Did you have fun?"

"I turned him down."

Liam coughed out a laugh. "You said no to that sexy and gorgeous man?"

"It was late."

"And?"

"I don't know. We went for pie and talked instead."

"I think you've been working too hard. Your brain is short circuiting on you. You love sex, remember? I knew I should have stuck around. You're obviously in crisis."

I smiled. "No … it was nice. He didn't really share much but it was nice."

"You said nice twice. You don't like nice. You like hot and nasty."

"True." And that was the truth. I didn't typically date. I fucked guys. But last night had felt very much like a date. Maybe Liam was right. Maybe I was in crisis. "I don't know. There's something innocent about the guy. I think he might be gay curious . Which is not my thing. There must be someone better than me to show him the ropes when it comes to gay sex."

Liam tsked me. "Why are you being so passive? What's wrong?"

Trust Liam to burrow underneath my fa?ade and root around. "The pub is getting me down."

"Why? It's doing great. "

"The profit margin is practically non-existent. I need to figure out a way to fix it."

"Let me guess. Your solution is to work harder."

"I have to get the pub way up into the black."

"Why? So your parents will be happy?"

I inhaled deeply, released it, and moved the phone to my other ear. Liam knew my hangups when it came to my parents. They expected perfection. Always had. Always would.

"They just want me to be successful."

"Noah, I love you, man, but sometimes you drive me crazy. The pub is a success." I heard the mumble of a voice in the background. "Gotta go. Sleeping beauty is waking up."

"Enjoy him. I'll see you tonight."

A knock on the door announced the arrival of my power bowl with extra chicken. Once I had that down, I called myself a cab and made my way to the Rainbow LGBTQ Youth Centre.

The place was hopping. Kids were meandering the halls and then ducking into classrooms to partake in a variety of activities. On Saturdays, we had our usual crafting area but also a class on nutrition that was essentially a cooking class. Kids loved it. Some of them were homeless and some had food insecurity at home. This was a chance to fill their bellies.

The head coordinator, Jamal, was in the gym, supervising a game of basketball. I jumped in and stole the ball away from one of the older kids. My interception was met with a collective groan.

I played basketball in high school. Along with baseball, soccer, and rugby. All of which, I had to be the best in. I hadn't snagged any scholarships, but I was often the game's MVP.

I dribbled down the court and took my shot. A tall kid Alex totally blocked it, making me laugh and wander off the court. Jamal pounded my lower back as I made my way to his side.

"Better luck next time," he said .

"I'm getting old and slow."

"Hardly." Jamal looked up at me. "I was going to text you but didn't want to bother you."

I didn't like the seriousness in his voice. "What's wrong?"

"We had a break-in last night. All the computers were stolen."

I jammed my hand into my hair.

Shit.

"Did they catch who did it?"

"They did. Not all the computers were recovered, though. The ones we got back … most of them are damaged. The thieves weren't very gentle with them."

"The kids need those computers to do their homework."

"We'll have to adapt until we can figure something out."

I wish I had the money. I'd pull it out of my pocket and buy a load of computers for these kids. They deserved a chance to do well at school.

"We'll have to raise the funds somehow," I said, stating the obvious.

"I've already started putting some ideas together. This is going to have to be bigger than a car wash or raffle. We're going to need at least $10,000."

"If you need a venue, you can use my pub."

"That's very generous. Thank you. Let me come up with some solid ideas based on that."

I patted Jamal's shoulder. He had this. He really cared about these kids. Five years ago, when I'd first started coming to volunteer, the centre had been in disarray. The volunteers who were running the programs weren't trained in managing a facility like this. An anonymous donor had stepped forward and offered to pay the salary yearly for a full-time professional coordinator.

It had changed everything for the kids.

"Is Kyle here?" I asked Jamal .

"Yup. He's in the library."

I smiled. The library was Kyle's favourite place. He found solitude there, whereas the other kids liked to be in the thick of the chaos. If I had to guess, I'd say Kyle was twelve or so. He told his mom that he wasn't a girl—that he was a boy when he was six. Thank God, she'd been supportive and sought out the resources to make her child's transition as smooth as possible.

I found Kyle in a back corner of the library, his back pressed against the wall, knees up, with a thick book in his hands.

"That book looks ominous," I said as I sat down next to him. Close but not touching. Kyle was funny about being touched. He'd jump up and away from you and start pacing.

I looked at the book cover. "A history of Stonewall. Nice."

I didn't expect Kyle to talk. Sometimes he did, though.

"Have you got to the bit about Marsha P. Johnson yet?"

Kyle nodded. "She fought back."

I straightened up. This was going to be one of those days when unicorns might appear. Kyle had decided to speak to me. "She was very brave, don't you think?"

"She died too soon."

I crossed my legs and leaned my elbows on my knees. Pretty heavy subject for a twelve-year-old to be reading. Maybe he was older than I thought he was. He was a slim kid. Delicate. It was difficult to tell how old he actually was. The Power Rangers t-shirt didn't lend much of a clue.

"Was she like me?" Kyle asked and leaned against me; his bony shoulder pressed against my bicep. Tears welled up in my eyes. I'd never gotten to physical contact with Kyle before.

"No, she wasn't. She was a gay man who liked to dress in women's clothing. But she wasn't transgender. She didn't identify as a woman. "

"Why she ?"

"She was also a drag queen and that's what you do, use she and her."

"Oh." Kyle broke the moment and moved away from me. "I like her."

I looked up to see Jamal in the doorway, clinging to the arms of his wheelchair. I could see the tears glistening in his eyes. Kyle touched both our hearts today.

Liam and I finished up behind the bar at our usual time for a Sunday. The same table in the back of the pub we'd been gathering at for the past four years sat with a reserved sign on it.

Sunday was the weekly meeting of the Salish Sea Society ; a group we had formed in high school to support one another. I'd been friends with Liam first and then Ethan had infiltrated our friendship. Owen had come along a month or so later, Ethan dragging him in.

When we'd discovered we were all gay, it solidified our group. We'd started our meetings in Ethan's basement once a week, his mom packing us full of cookies. Time passed and we'd continued the tradition for almost twenty years. The only difference was when we were in universities all over the country. Even then, though, we'd do a group video call to check in with each other. Owen was the first to arrive, giving us both a hug and lingering in our embrace.

"How's your week been, you two?" he asked once he released me.

"Steady," Liam replied while he went back behind the bar, ready to pour our drinks.

When we'd folded him into our little group in high school, we'd nicknamed Owen, The Sentimental because he believed in love and happily ever afters. Liam was The Lover because he was entirely fixated on hooking up with guys and had no interest in dating. Ethan was t he Optimist because he has such a sunny disposition. And me … I'd acquired the nickname The Chivalrous because apparently, I always tried to save everyone. I didn't see it. I just liked to make sure my friends were happy and safe. Okay, so maybe I did try to save people a little bit.

I preferred the word protect .

There was only one of us missing: Ethan. The youngest of the four of us—by a few months. Still, we liked to tease him. He was the baby of the group and he'd had the healthiest relationships of all of us. Three long-term boyfriends over the past twenty years. He was currently single.

Ethan was an eternal spring of joy and optimism.

Speaking of the devil, Ethan erupted through the front door and bounded into a hug with Owen. After roughing up Owen's short auburn hair, he headed my way, a wide grin across his face.

"Noah!" Ethan clapped his hand down on my shoulder, then pulled me into a bear hug. He rocked me back and forth until I clung tighter to him, my face nestled against the scruffy, dark bristles on his neck. He wouldn't let me go until I matched his enthusiasm.

When he released me and pulled away, Ethan gripped my face in both hands and planted a wet kiss in the middle of my forehead.

I groaned in exasperation.

"The party has arrived!" Ethan leapt away from me and drummed on the bar top. "Barkeep!"

Liam smirked at Ethan as he stepped toward him. He leaned against the bar top, reached out, and gripped Ethan's outstretched arm while Ethan clamped down on his .

A short tug back and forth until they were both laughing. Liam could match Ethan on the sunny scale—on the outside anyway.

Outwardly, Liam was cocky and confident but inside, storms of self-doubt and insecurity roared. When I met Liam at the start of junior high school, he'd been awkward, overweight, and his face covered in acne. As an adult, he had achieved perfect skin, found a second home in the gym, lost the weight, his body muscular and sculpted, and he'd had some work done on his face. Top that in long blond hair …. And he was beautiful—just didn't believe it.

Owen joined them at the bar, wrapping his arm around Ethan's shoulders. He loved physical contact as much as Ethan. Ultimately, he wanted to find that one guy to cuddle with permanently.

Owen's desperate craving for a stable, loving relationship made me sad. Men never treated him well. Owen was looking for forever love. Instead, men tended to use him because he was quick to follow them into their beds; giving his body in hopes the intimacy would turn into more.

Right now, though—right now, we were together—having fun.

These guys. I would do anything for these guys.

Anything.

"Shots!" Ethan shouted as he bounced on his toes.

"Tequila!" Owen suggested with far too much exuberance. He must have had another one of his disastrous dates. It was the only time he was keen to drink something like tequila shots.

Liam poured four shots of our best tequila. We crowded closer to the bar, grabbed our drinks, and raised them. Ethan spoke. "To the best friends a guy could wish for!"

"And men who know how to give mind-blowing BJs!" Liam added .

I could drink to that, both sentiments. I threw back my shot.

"Pitcher of pale ale?" Liam asked the group.

Everyone agreed and then headed for our table. It was 9 pm so the pub was still busy. The live band had taken the stage thirty minutes ago. At some point during the night, Ethan would convince us to head toward the dance floor and cut a rug. Not my favorite activity but I'd never deny him.

"So …," Ethan said. "Let's go around and talk about our week." He smiled. "I'll start."

We took turns pouring ourselves a beer.

"You always go first," Liam said.

"That's because my life is the most exciting," Ethan replied, winking at Liam.

"Hardly," I added.

"Shush up," Ethan warned. "I had a great week. The coffee shop was busy. Loads of interesting customers." He grinned. "One in particular."

"Here it comes," Owen said. "You met a nice guy."

"The best," Ethan answered. "We sat and talked for quite a while. He's an accountant. Loves getting outdoors and camping and stuff. Seems very stable."

Owen sighed. "Better than my week."

"You didn't get tied to a bed again, did you?" I teased. The table erupted in laughter. All except Owen. A month ago, some guy had tied Owen to his bed and just left him there. Left the apartment. Thank God Owen was able to ask his phone's AI assistant to dial Ethan to come untie him.

"No," Owen replied. "Nothing that dramatic. Went for dinner with who I thought was a guy looking for a relationship. That's what his profile said. I talked about my desire to someday get married and start a family … have children—"

"On the first date?" Liam interrupted .

"I wanted to put it out there from the get-go," Owen replied.

"What happened?" I asked.

"I went to the washroom. When I came back, the guy was gone. Tried to text him to apologize for being so forward. No reply. He's totally ghosted me."

"Maybe for the best," Ethan said. "He doesn't deserve someone as awesome as you."

Owen took a sip of his beer. "Thanks, Ethan. At least you're in my corner."

I reached out and gripped Owen's arm. "We all are."

Ethan turned in his seat. "What about you, Liam?"

"Same old, same old. Fucking my way through the gay population of Victoria," Liam replied.

"Nothing meaningful at all?" Owen asked.

"There was one guy who seemed a bit needy." Liam drained his beer and poured himself another. "Wanted to cuddle and stay overnight. Had to set him right."

"You let guys sleep over sometimes," I said. "Caught you with one yesterday morning."

"Eh … that's Carl. He's a fun fuck. I like to milk him dry all night long."

Owen shifted in his seat. "Ew."

It was my turn. "I'm worried about the pub."

"You're always worried about the pub," Ethan pointed out.

"I know, but there's so much to do to bring it up to the way I want it and we're not making enough money to pay for the improvements."

"We've talked about this, Noah," Owen said. "Stop trying to make it perfect."

The guys didn't get it. I needed to make this pub more than a passable success. I'd gone against my parents by not finishing law school. If I was to earn any respect from them, I needed this pub to be at its best. I wouldn't be satisfied until everything was complete and running smoothly.

"You don't understand what it's like to have parents like mine."

"Why do you think the pub isn't successful?" Ethan asked. "Look at all the people here. Eating, drinking, and dancing. Are you losing money?"

I shook my head. "No, I'm not. It's not that." They really didn't get it. I furrowed my brow. Enough about me and the pub. "Forget I said anything. I don't want to talk about it."

"Noah met a guy," Liam said, redirecting the conversation.

"I didn't meet him," I argued. "He's a regular. He waited for me after work on Friday."

"Was the sex good?" Ethan asked.

"Why did you jump straight to that, Ethan?" Owen asked.

"Because I know Noah," Ethan replied. "I think I've introduced him to you."

"We didn't have sex."

Ethan's eyebrows rose. Yes, my habit was to sleep around. I'd tried the relationship thing. There was always some grating thing about the guys I dated that made it impossible to continue the relationship. Maybe I was searching for the unattainable.

"We went to Jimmy's . Had pie and talked."

"Talked as in got to actually know the guy," Ethan ribbed.

"Sort of. Brody didn't tell me much. He asked questions and let me do the talking."

"He's not a big talker," Liam chimed in. "Sits at the bar. Has his G&T and wings."

"Are you going to see him again?" asked Owen.

"At the bar if he comes in," I answered. "He didn't come in yesterday or today. "

"So … you were watching for him?" Ethan refilled his pint glass.

"Maybe. He's like a puzzle I want to figure out." Something about Brody intrigued me. I'd never met someone who said he was interested in me, but the attraction wasn't apparent in his expression. Wracking my brain last night, I'd figured out what was different about him. He hadn't fully smiled, and he had barely made eye contact with me, constantly ducking his gaze away.

When he had briefly held still, matching my gaze, his eyes had spoken softly to me.

There's a saying that says still waters run deep . I suspected that was the case with Brody. Underneath that calm demeanour, I sensed lay a deeply passionate man.

I knew pulling emotions from him would be a challenge. Normally, I liked my men easy, but something about Brody was drawing me to him. Even this early on, I couldn't run if I tried.

The guys were all looking at me.

"I'll see how it goes," I said, giving them enough to keep them off my back.

The guys let the topic drop. Owen, eight years into his real estate agent career, told us about an incredible listing he'd picked up. A mansion on the ocean. Plus, two properties that he had sold. We were excited for him. At least one thing was going right in his life.

Liam reached over and grasped the back of my neck, massaging and caressing the nape. It was his way of saying that he supported whatever I wanted to do. Business and personal.

As the rest of our group chatted, my mind drifted back to Brody. I'd spoken the truth to him. I'd love to have his face looking down at me in bed. But something inside me was telling me to slow things down. Get to know him first. Uncover some of the hidden places in the man.

If he'd let me.