Page 75 of Something Like Hail

Harold’s eyes grew wide with concern. “I ambeing honest! I don’t do relationships.”

Noah swallowed. His throat felt raw. “I getwhy we can’t be in a monogamous relationship, but in case youhaven’t noticed, I’m not the jealous type. I’ve got to earn moneytoo, and right now this is the best way, so—”

“It doesn’t work,” Haroldsat on the coffee table.

Noah didn’t plan on going anywhere untilthey had this figured out, so he sat on the couch in front of him.“Talk to me. Tell me what you’re so worried about. If we’re honestwith each other, we can get through anything. Okay?”

“Okay.” Harold started toreach for Noah’s hand but thought better of it, his expressionpleading. “I’ve tried this before. I know you won’t listen, orthink that I’m right, but I’ve done this a few times now. Withother escorts, with people who had no idea about what I do for aliving, and once I even made it so far that—” He sighed. “Itdoesn’t last. Not being home most nights, not being able to havesex spontaneously, STD scares, stalkers, or sometimes even thereally nice clients, all those things get in the way. I’m flatteredand if I had any other job, then maybe.” Harold shook his head. “Wecan be friends. Nothing more.”

“Then what was last nightall about?” Noah asked, trying to prove a point, when as it turnedout, it was the question he should have been asking all along.“Oh.”

“Don’t be angry,” Haroldsaid. “Please.”

“Why would I?” Noah spat.“I hired you for a job. You did what we always do. You made theclient feel loved.”

“Noah…”

“Am I wrong? You eitherhave feelings for me or were pretending to. Which is it?” Hegripped the couch cushions on either side of his legs. “I know whatI felt! Or am I just deluded? We agreed to be honest so tell me. AmI crazy?”

He waited to be corrected, to be reassuredthat he wasn’t wrong and that they did indeed have a connection,even if their careers made it impossible. Harold’s expression wasstrained, but he didn’t say anything to the contrary.

“This is humiliating,” Noahmuttered under his breath. He stood, mostly wanting to leave, but atiny part of him still hung on to hope.

“I want to be your friend,”Harold said, standing too. “That hasn’t changed.”

“Of course,” Noah saidtersely before heading for the door. “Why would we be anythingmore?”

“Because—”

Noah stopped and turned around. “Becausewhat?”

Harold’s eyelids fluttered and then closed.He rubbed at them before his hand dropped and he met Noah’s gaze.“Anyone would be crazy not to fall in love with you, all right? I’mthe problem, not you. Let’s be friends.”

“Better than being a pityfuck just because I have crappy parents,” Noah said. “I’d rather beyour client than that. What do I owe you?”

“Don’t,” Harold said. “Lastnight wasn’t about pity. And it sure as hell wasn’t aboutmoney!”

“Of course it was,” Noahsaid, grabbing his wallet and fishing out a couple of twenties.“Sorry I don’t have more. I’ll send you a check, I promise.” Heheld out the bills.

“I don’t want your fuckingmoney!” Harold snarled.

“Then what was last night?”Noah asked, his voice cracking. His feelings were hurt, his prideinjured. “If last night wasn’t a job, and if you weren’t justtrying to make me feel better, then what the hell wasit?”

“A mistake,” Haroldsaid.

“A mistake,” Noah repeated,trying on the word for size. He supposed it was a good fit. He hadgiven his virginity to someone without bothering to discuss thevery basics: What were they to each other and where were theygoing? He knew the answers now. They were a mistake and goingnowhere.

He tossed the twenties away and turned. Hewas almost at the door when Harold intercepted him, the money inhand. “Take this back. I don’t want it. I don’t want a check fromyou either. Please. Let’s be friends.”

Noah ignored the bills. Instead he staredinto Harold’s eyes and tried to understand the feelings behindthem, and why they were so red. Was he holding back tears? If so,who were they for? Noah? Or himself? Despite how hurt he felt, Noahstill wanted them to be together. He wished he could wind back theclock and not be stupid enough to broach the subject at all. “Iwon’t talk about my feelings anymore,” he said. “I promise. Can’twe go back to the way things were?”

“Yes,” Harold said. “Butonly as friends.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “Lastnight… We shouldn’t do that again.”

“The sex, or all the stuffbefore it too?”

“Just friends,” Haroldrepeated.

Noah shook his head. “You might be able todo that, but I can’t.” He walked to the door and left, each stepmore difficult than the last. He kept waiting for words to stophim, or for Harold to spin him around for a kiss. He was halfwaydown the driveway when he looked back and saw that he wasn’t beingfollowed. Harold wasn’t even at the door. The fucker! Noah’s pridemight be injured, but it wasn’t dead. He stomped back toward thehouse and threw open the door. Harold was just a few stepsaway.