Page 7 of Something Like Hail

Speaking of which, he had an appointmenttoday. From the limited light, Noah estimated that the current timewas around five in the morning. The shelter would open its doorsagain in an hour. Between nine in the evening and six in themorning, the building was on lockdown. From what he understood,this was mostly to reassure the local community that those stayinghere weren’t to blame for any spike in crime, although on occasionthe police still needed to be called in to remove someone violent,or paramedics let in to deal with an overdose. As a kid, he hadnever conceived of such things. Noah thought back to a moreinnocent time of swing sets, a baby blue bedroom, and sack lunchespacked by his mother. Each day had ended with loving hands tuckinghim into a warm bed. God that seemed so far away now!

No sense in dwelling on the past. Noahquietly climbed down from the top bunk and went to the dormentrance. This led to a common area, where two sets of eyesappraised him and looked away. The staff knew he wasn’t trouble.Noah used the restroom, then went to his locker to gather hisclothes. He owned one pair of jeans and four shirts. Most of hisunderwear and socks were in bad condition, but soon he would investin new ones. Especially since lots of people would be seeing hisunderwear. Geez, what a notion!

With this in mind, he went to the laundryroom and its machines. One set was huge and industrial, made forwashing and drying sheets in bulk. Noah had run it a few timeswhile volunteering. Another set, smaller like those he had grown upwith, was free for the homeless to use. He checked, but as oftenwas the case, both machines were filled. The two coin-operatedmachines were available, so he used them instead. That meantstripping down to his underwear and sitting there yawning himselfawake, but he wanted clean clothes for today. Besides, the shelterhad seen stranger sights.

Once his things were in the dryer, Noah tooka shower, returning from it to put on clothes as warm as freshlybaked bread. The shelter was more active now. Noah reported to thekitchen to help serve breakfast. After the meal, he left Jerusalemand went to the library, using the computer there to look up theaddress he was given. His appointment wasn’t until eleven, whichgave him plenty of time to walk to his destination. He took iteasy, not wanting to be a sweaty mess when he got there. The chaosof downtown slowly shifted to a sleepy residential neighborhoodalong the way. Neither environment was the kind he had grown up in.His family’s nearest neighbor had been on the next farm over, morethan a mile away. That had always made him feel isolated. Noahtried to imagine being raised in the neighborhood he was walkingthrough now. This one was older, the trees overgrown, the smallhouses worn with time. Surely he would have made friends with thekids next door, or maybe across the street. Noah would have beenspoiled for choice! He liked this area, although he didn’t fullyunderstand what he was doing there. What had Marcello said?Assessment and training?

After reaching his destination anddouble-checking that he had the right address, Noah rang the bell.When the door swung open, the breath caught in his throat, becausethe person standing there was hot. Not just “Oh, he’s agood-looking guy!” attractive, but more likebite-your-knuckles-and-try-not-to-squeal handsome. This wasespecially impressive considering the guy had just gotten out ofbed, judging from the mussed brown hair sticking up on one side.All the man wore was a maroon bathrobe, the glimpses of tan skinalluring, but the face is what truly captivated Noah. The eyebrowswere thick and black, the dark irises of his eyes nearly blendingin with the pupils. His nose was perfection—not too big, not toosmall—the kind people in Hollywood paid plastic surgeons to create.And that mouth? It was begging to be kissed, the delightfully pinklips moving to say his name and making it sound better than it everhad before.

“Noah, right?”

He managed to squeak out somethingresembling a “yes.”

“Cool. I’m Harold. Come onin.”

Awesome! Please let “assessment” mean lotsof making out, just to prove Noah knew how. The front door leddirectly to the living room, where a large couch and coffee tablefaced a flat-screen television mounted on the wall. He could see adining room and kitchen beyond, and on one side, a hallway thatprobably led to bedrooms.

“Have a seat,” Harold said,gesturing to the couch. “You caught me by surprise.”

“This is when Marcello saidI should—”

“Not your fault,” Haroldsaid, his voice dry, but in a way that Noah found appealing. “Itwas a late night. I slept in. Hey, you want coffee?”

“Sure!” While he wasn’tcrazy about the taste, coffee was a cheap way of warming up duringthe winter, so he had learned to tolerate it. Right now Haroldcould offer him chocolate-covered grasshoppers and Noah would havegleefully nodded his consent.

His host disappeared into the kitchen. Noahsat and looked around the room. He saw a shelf filled with movies,a tall paper lamp in one corner, and on the side-table next to thecouch, a cherry-red bong. The room wasn’t dirty, but it alsocouldn’t be described as tidy.

“Here you go, my man!”Harold reappeared, placing two steaming mugs on the coffee table.Then he plopped down on the other end of the couch, one leg tuckedbeneath him that was covered in fine dark hairs. “You’re the newguy, huh?”

“I guess so,” Noah said,trying to sound assertive. He was here to prove himself afterall.

Harold saluted, brown eyes sparkling.“Welcome to the GAC!”

Noah did the same and felt ridiculous.“GAC?”

“Gentlemen’s AgreementClub. That’s the name of the game. Ever done anything like thisbefore?”

Noah briefly considered his past. He couldthink of at least one guy he’d gone home with just so he’d be offthe streets but… “Nothing so official.”

“In that case, you’ve got alot to learn. Any burning questions?”

“Are you mypimp?”

“Ha!” Harold smiled,swoon-worthy dimples appearing in each cheek. “No. I’m just anescort like you. I’m experienced enough that I help Marcello withthe new recruits. You don’t have a pimp, by the way. You have anemployer. There’s a big difference.”

Noah’s cheeks flushed. “Right.”

Harold looked him over, starting with andreturning to his hair. “Man, we finally have a ginger again. You’llbe in demand. For a while we made one of our guys dye his hair, butit wasn’t exactly convincing, you know?”

This failed to boost Noah’s self-esteembecause if Harold was an escort, and he represented the level ofhotness clients were used to and expecting, then he didn’t thinkhe’d be in demand for long.

Harold reached for his mug and took a fewsips before setting it on the coffee table again. Then he inhaledand stood. “Okay. Let’s take a better look at you.”

Noah remained where he was and tried hisbest not feel insecure. Confidence was sexy. Like the kindradiating from Harold, who was still scrutinizing him.

“Up up up!” he said. “Areyou always this quiet?”

“No,” Noah said as hestood. “I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on.”