Page 19 of Sour Candy (Sour Candy #1)

“Noah. Noah !”

Noah looked up from his phone. “What?”

Tia gave him a wide-eyed look from where she lay straining under a barbell, arms shaking with the effort of holding it off her neck.

“Ah. Sorry.” Noah lifted it, setting it back on the rack. He was supposed to use the last ten minutes to stretch and be Tia’s spotter, but he’d spent most of it going through last night’s texts with Benji while the morning sun crept higher up the apartment window.

Tia slumped against the bench, the tension oozing out of her.

She reached up to adjust her sweat-smudged glasses, shooting him a glare.

“What happened to not getting distracted? This is your home gym, there’s no one here!

I could have suffocated, and you would’ve still been sitting there on that yoga ball, texting your high schooler sugar baby! ”

“He’s in college,” Noah said defensively.

“He’s not old enough to drink,” Tia drawled, sitting up and stretching her arms over her head. “ Ugh . Why did I let you talk me into this?”

“You asked me to teach you strength training,” Noah pointed out. “We could try jogging again.”

Tia shuddered, pulling the sweatband off her forehead. “Pass.”

Noah checked his phone. No new messages since Benji took a shower in preparation for bed last night. He’d even sent a photo: a tantalizing glimpse of his reflection, the mirror cutting off right above the base of his cock.

“Wipe the drool off your face,” Tia complained, holding her icy water bottle to her cheek. “What is with you? I haven’t seen you like this since Chrissy.”

“Got it, Tia, thanks.” Noah tossed her a rigid smile.

He didn’t want to go into Chrissy again, his last serious girlfriend.

He’d tried to dial it back for her, to be less , but it didn’t matter—whatever he tried, he was too much.

Tia assured him they just loved in different ways, but it still stuck with him.

He didn’t want to be too much again. Which meant he needed to find someone who enjoyed how intense he was, who liked it.

Who needed it. Benji needed it, Noah was sure.

He had a hard time admitting it to himself, but that was okay.

Noah would coax it out of him. Every confession from Benji was a victory; every time he accepted a gift or let him feed him chocolate was one step closer to finally making Benji accept what he deserved.

Tia sucked noisily on her water bottle, her giant ice cubes clinking. “And you’re sure it’s not an act.”

Noah sighed, pushing himself off the yoga ball and getting into a plank position. He was out of time to stretch, but he might as well get some core work in. “You should meet him. He puts up a front, but you’d see through him in a second.”

“Great! Bring him to the office someday.”

Noah focused on keeping his back straight and his elbows braced as he remembered their phone conversation about Noah fucking Benji in his office. He’d been putting more thought into that. The office was soundproof for a reason, after all.

“I’ll invite him to that gala that's coming up,” Noah said. “You can vet him there.”

“Okay. Just… don’t get too attached until then.”

“Absolutely.” Noah leaned up onto his knees, grabbing his phone to show her the latest page he’d been looking at. “Do you think he’d like this car?”

Tia pretended to throw her water bottle at him.

He fake-ducked out of the way, grinning.

He was half-serious. He did want to buy Benji a car; it was on his list of things to buy him.

But he didn’t want to overwhelm him. He had to spread it out, ease him into it.

Which meant letting him take the bus a little while longer.

“Good god,” Tia said as he started doing push-ups. “You’ve slept with him twice ! You’re pathetic. Surprised everyone at work hasn’t noticed you smiling at your phone like a schoolgirl.”

“I only do it in my office, Tia. For obvious reasons.” He winked at her and started clapping in between push-ups, just to see her roll her eyes.

She walked over. He braced himself, expecting her to sit on his back like she did sometimes when he was annoying her during push-ups.

But instead, she sat down in front of him, crossing her legs with a stiffness that she wouldn’t have if she just stretched for ten minutes a day like he kept telling her to.

“About the gala,” Tia said. “I want to meet the kid. But we should probably make sure Michael doesn’t find out. You know what he’s like, he’ll dig. He might be a jackass to him.”

“He hasn’t done that in a while.”

“You haven’t been serious about anyone in a while.”

Noah pushed through the burn, arms working faster. Was he serious about Benji? Things felt serious, but they hadn’t had that talk yet. He didn’t want to scare Benji off. Finding out he was being investigated by an overprotective billionaire would definitely freak him out.

“I can’t promise he won’t find out,” Noah said. “But I’ll downplay it. Tell him it’s just sex.”

“He’ll be able to tell,” Tia said. “He knows you.”

“Fifteen years ago,” Noah acknowledged. “Not so much now.”

Tia gave him a pointed look. She’d known them ten years ago, when he and Michael were close. She’d made no secret of being relieved when Noah had stopped spending so much time with Michael after he graduated.

“Trust me,” she said. “Don’t sound sad about that.”

The Cream Horn was busy. Benji looked like he was in pain from pulling his gangly elbows in so hard, trying not to bump into anyone as he scanned the tables.

It didn’t help much. His unfriendly scowl did, though Noah didn’t think Benji was fully aware of it.

He couldn’t tell if it was because of the crowd, the fanciness of the cafe, the sleep deprivation of the hangover, but whatever it was, Benji looked like he’d rather be asleep right now.

He put a hand on the small of Benji’s back. “This way. Come on.”

Benji stiffened. But he stepped closer, their sides brushing as Noah led him to the corner table he’d reserved.

“Thanks for this,” Benji said as he slid into a chair across from him. “Sorry, I wasn’t ready when you pulled up. Late night last night.”

“I know,” Noah said brightly. “I think it was two when you finally went to bed.”

“You—?” He paused to shoot the waitress a distracted smile as she poured their water. Then she walked away, and Benji leaned forward with a look of increasing regret. “Did I text you last night?”

Noah beamed. “Once or twice.”

Benji’s eyes narrowed. He grabbed his phone out of his pocket and started scrolling through his latest messages, groaning aloud when he saw how long he’d been texting Noah.

“ Goddamnit ! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to drink that much, I knew we had a thing in the morning.”

Noah slid a menu in front of him. “It’s fine. I like drunk you. He's cute. Easier to get his guard down.”

Benji mumbled something like you get my guard down anyway, and also possibly bastard . Then he grabbed his water and started chugging. A thin line of water dripped down his stubble, curving down his neck.

“Just tell me I didn’t make a dick out of myself,” he said when he resurfaced.

Noah leaned over the table, cleaning the water from his neck. Benji’s throat bobbed under his touch, and Noah took a moment to press against his Adam’s apple before leaning back.

“You didn’t make a dick out of yourself,” he assured him, wiping his fingers on his napkin.

Benji’s hand flickered up like he was going to touch his neck where Noah had pressed his fingers. His throat clicked again, even louder than last time.

“Uh,” he said. “Uhhh.”

He shook his head, his gaze flickering back to his phone with a sheepish smile. “I don’t know. Some of those texts looked pretty long.”

“You said you missed me,” Noah supplied. “You showed me some of the art you and your classmates were doing at your friend’s party. You also said some guy was being a jerk to you and asked if I had a hitman.”

“I asked what ?”

“I said I’d look into it,” Noah said, only half-joking. He would never hire a hitman, but he would go to great lengths to ruin someone’s life if they messed with Benji.

“Please don’t,” Benji said. He grabbed his menu, staring at it with the tired glare of someone who wanted to be in bed. “Seriously, that guy isn’t worth a hit. He’s just some asshole who thinks it’s fun to hassle me. You couldn’t actually hire a hitman, right?”

Noah shrugged. “I’d do a lot for you.”

Benji’s cheeks went pink. He ducked behind his menu, but not before Noah caught a glimpse of his mouth quirking up. A fleeting smile, like most of Benji’s smiles. Waiting for someone to take his happiness away, so he’d better get it over with fast.

Noah waited until their drinks arrived. Then, while Benji was drinking his black coffee (no milk, three sugars), he pressed his shoe into Benji’s jean-clad shin.

“So,” he began.

Then he froze. A familiar blonde stared back at him through the crowded cafe.

Benji frowned. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Noah said quickly.

But she was already walking toward him. It had been fifteen years, and everything about her was unrecognizable.

Her frumpy clothing had turned sleek and tight, and her makeup had gone from inexperienced to effortless.

Once, she had been worried that she would look out of place at their high society parties.

Now she looked right at home. Which made sense, she probably attended her share nowadays.

“Noah,” she said, her smile elegant and soft pink. “To be honest, I thought I’d run into you sooner.”

Noah smiled back at her, strained. “Yvonne. I thought you lived in Dubai?”

“Half the year. The other half, we like to come here. Chasing winters instead of summers, he says.” She glanced over at Benji, gaze lingering on his scruffy hair and thin T-shirt. Noah thought that was a bit rich—when his brother introduced her as his new girlfriend, she had both.

Then she was turning back to him, tucking her pristine hair needlessly back into place. “I’m attending a Stern Appliances gala next month. Should I expect to see you there?”

“Of course,” Noah said. “And my brother.”

Her smile stayed in place. Too still. She didn’t even blink.

“He’s doing fine, by the way,” Noah said. He waved at Benji. “Yvonne, have you met?—?”

She cut him off. “I’m so sorry, I really do have to be somewhere. Good to see you both.”

“See you,” Benji called, his tone standoffish as she retreated through the crowd, her pashmina billowing behind her. He turned to Noah. “Who was that?”

“My brother’s ex,” Noah said.

Benji made a face. He threw back the last of his coffee. “Yikes. Should I ask, or should I run desperately to the next subject?”

Noah thought about it. “Come to the gala with me.”

Benji paused. He let out a small, uncertain laugh. “Is this, like, a distraction tactic? How bad was the breakup? Did somebody have to sign an NDA?”

“I want you to come,” Noah said.

Benji set his cup down with a click. “Okay, I gotta ask. What is a gala? Like, what happens?”

“Some sort of performance or dinner. With this one? A lot of standing around and chatting to potential investors while you make use of the open bar and eat delicious food off trays.” He stroked his shoe up Benji’s leg, enjoying it when Benji did a full-body twitch, eyelashes shuddering. “Interested?”

“Hmm?” Benji blinked hard. He’d been staring at Noah’s mouth as it folded around his coffee cup. “Sure. Okay.”

He paused, staring into his coffee. His mind was going fast. Noah could see it moving behind his eyes, which were much more alert with coffee in his system. He looked up at Noah, shooting him a wide smile that he clocked at maybe forty percent real, sixty percent panic.

“I’ll get my finest suit ready,” he said airily.

Noah took another sip of his latte. He let his tongue swipe out to clear his lower lip, satisfaction sparking in his stomach as Benji’s stressed expression smoothed out once again, his gaze dragging down to watch Noah’s tongue.

A waitress appeared behind him with their food, and Benji startled as she leaned in to place their plates down.

“Jesus,” he said, jerking around and almost knocking both plates with his elbow. “Shit. Sorry. Everybody’s coming up behind me this week, fuck.”

Noah waited until the waitress was out of earshot, Benji picking up his bagel and digging in.

Noah waited until Benji’s face lit up as he chewed, then he picked up his bagel.

This was a knife and fork kind of place, but he wasn’t about to make Benji feel uncomfortable.

Besides, sometimes you just wanted to pick up a sandwich with your hands.

“So,” he asked. “Did you get yourself something nice, like I asked?”

“Do I have a time limit?”

“I might have to set one,” Noah said. “What are you thinking?”

Benji’s chewing slowed. He sucked a piece of bacon into his mouth, lips shiny with grease. He looked down at his outfit: a threadbare T-shirt with a logo of a sports team that he neither knew nor cared about, jeans, his beloved boots, and the coat Noah got him.

“I mean,” he started. “I need to actually buy a suit. For the gala… thing.”

Noah nodded. It still wasn’t what Benji wanted , but they were getting close. He could sense something hiding right underneath the words, something that was making Benji squirm and flush and take a bigger bite of the bagel, trying to distract them both.

Noah checked the time. “How long until you have class?”

“One,” Benji said. “Why?”

Noah waved down a waitress. “Hi. Could we get these bagels to go?”

“I’m eating my bagel,” Benji said, holding it protectively against his chest and frowning as Noah reached for his wallet. “Wait, where are we going?”

Noah placed several twenties on the table and stood. “I’m taking you clothes shopping.”