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Below the Belt

Page 3

by E M Lindsey


  Today there was only one table occupied on the patio, a broad man with thick, black hair and short barely-there face scruff similar to Adrian’s. Noah shook his head, irritated at himself for seeing the guy everywhere now, and moved to the Bagel Shop queue to order his cinnamon roll and coffee combo.

  The student working there whose name he never remembered gave him a wide grin and rang him up without asking. Noah let out a sigh of relief as he took it. “Thank you.”

  “No worries, professor Avidan. You look wrecked. Long day?”

  Noah laughed. “Something like that. I’ll be in for a refill in a bit. Thanks.” He walked out, and after a long pause used his elbow to push the patio door open and step out. The guy at the table looked up then, and Noah almost swallowed his tongue. “Adrian?” The name fell from his lips without thinking.

  Adrian’s eyebrows lifted. “From Wes’ place, right?” he said. “Noah?”

  Noah flushed at what a bare impression he’d made, but he was too startled by the fact that he was actually there. Noah usually took his coffee back to his office, but still, he was fairly sure he would have taken notice of Adrian before now.

  “Yeah. Hey.” He felt like a class-A dumbass and his gaze flickered to the pile of work and laptop Adrian had spread out on the table. “Bad afternoon?” he asked in sympathy.

  Adrian sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face. “You could say that. I’m trying to finish up this proposal for funding to get this place updated.” Noah lifted his brows and after a moment, Adrian went on. “When I first started here, half the buildings were inaccessible to me. I was using a wheelchair for a while and a bunch of the building entrances are on the second floor. The physics building is the worst. They have an electronic wheelchair ramp, but it was broken almost the entire year. I overheard some of the other students talking about one kid having to change his major because half his classes weren’t accessible.”

  Noah’s face fell. He knew exactly what Adrian meant. The university complied—technically—with accessibility regulations, but most of the accommodations were absurd. He dealt with enough coming back after his accident. “That’s p-pretty amazing, actually. Is there anything I c-can help with?” He wanted to punch himself. He didn’t have time to help on some secondary project and it showed with the return of his stutter, giving away his nerves and frustration.

  Adrian gave him what Noah assumed was a very rare grin, showing slight dimples in both cheeks. “I’m good. I know someone finishing up her MA in English and she said she’d give it a once-over before it was time to submit.”

  Noah grinned at the use of grad student time. He remembered paying his own dues very well. “Well if you think of anything…”

  “I’ll ask.” And when Noah hesitated, he said, “I’m sure I’ll see you around, but if you have an email…”

  “Sure, let me just,” he stopped, deciding maybe it was better to just tell Adrian to come to his office when Adrian’s phone began to chime.

  He groaned, peering at the screen. “Sorry, I have to take this. Just…leave your email or number or…” He shoved a piece of paper at Noah, then jumped up and walked off, his voice low, gruff, and a little frantic.

  Noah wanted to blame it on how hectic it was after the midterms, and at least he knew it wasn’t a fake call that had dragged Adrian away from him like that. Though it felt a little like a rejection, Adrian had also asked for his number. Which was more personal than an email. Right? Before he could second guess himself again, he jotted down his cell number and tucked the pen back under the stack of project proposal notes. He was tempted, only for a second, to peek in, but he forced himself to walk away.

  Adrian was fifty feet away, pacing at his slow limp, and he caught Noah’s eye before Noah went inside and lifted a hand. ‘Sorry,’ he mouthed.

  Noah waved him off, then made a phone sign with his hand, grinning when Adrian nodded. He wasn’t entirely sure the other man was going to call, but at the very least, he could hope.

  ***

  Adrian let himself into Anna’s apartment, heaving his legs in, sore from having spent the last several hours bent over his current bike job. The thing was still a mess, but it now resembled an actual motorcycle as opposed to the hunk of mangled parts the owner had brought in. He was filthy, covered in grease, his nails ragged stumps, but that was the least of his worries right then. Today had been torture for an entirely different reason.

  “I fucked up.” Adrian flopped down on his sister’s sofa and kicked one leg up on the table. His brace let out a loud thunk and he ignored her wince and glare at the new nick in the wood.

  “What did you do?” she asked, blowing on her cup of tea.

  “I got that guy’s number.” He couldn’t bring himself to look over, only because he knew she’d have that look on her face, the one that said her baby boy was all grown up and getting himself dates. He didn’t want a fucking date. “I ran into him on campus.”

  Anna smacked him on the thigh repeatedly. “Wait. The fucking cute student from class the other night? The newbie?”

  Adrian groaned, passing a hand down his face. “Yeah. That one.” He crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes straying to the black ink decorating his forearms. He absently traced one of his fingers over the Polynesian design and felt a pang of loss briefly before shoving it away. “I ran into him at the old union and he offered to help me with the ramp proposal.”

  Anna leaned in with a huge grin across her face, looking so much like their mother he wanted to cry. Or laugh. Maybe both. “And?”

  “And I asked for his number. Like a dipshit,” he groaned.

  She smacked him again with the back of her hand and he shoved her away. “This isn’t a bad thing, you know. He was really into you. He asked about you before class started, and he kept looking for you after you left. He was so sad when I told him you’d gone home.”

  Adrian felt something warm in his chest and he pressed the heel of his hand to his sternum. This was such a bad idea, more so now that he had Noah’s number. The way his fingers itched to reach for his phone, to hear his voice again. Damn it, he had plans, and this would only fuck them up. Even if Noah was an older student like him—and he wasn’t betting on it with the guy’s baby face and soft curls—he had no room in his life for heartbreak.

  “You don’t know it’s going to be a disaster unless you try. And it wasn’t even that long ago you were saying you might be ready,” Anna pointed out.

  He grimaced at their stupid twin thing where she seemed to just know what was going on in his head. Pushing himself to sit up a little more, he drew out his phone and drummed his fingers on the screen. “What do I even say? I mean, he offered to help me—it wasn’t like, hey call me and we can grab a drink.”

  “So, you make the offer,” she pointed out. “If he’s not interested, he’ll say so.”

  “He’s probably not even into men, then it’ll be awkward as fuck the next time he sees me. I’ll just be the creepy gay dude who hit on him. And you’ll lose his business at the gym.” He was hoping his logic would get her to see reason and help talk himself out of calling.

  Instead she laughed. “He’s gay. I made a joke about him being able to find a girlfriend with one of the single moms in class and he totally freaked out.”

  Adrian almost growled, a sudden rush of possessive jealousy gripping him, and he stamped down on it. Hard. “Just because he’s not interested in dating a single mom…”

  “He literally blurted out, ‘I’m gay,’ like in a total panic. Then when I was done apologizing profusely for assuming, he told me the guy who signed him up for the classes was his ex.”

  Adrian’s eyebrows shot up. “His ex? His ex gave him a gym pass. Wow that’s a dick move.”

  “He says they’re friends, that under no circumstances is he interested in getting together with the guy,” she said in a rush, like that might deter him. “I think the guy knows one of the regulars and figured it was a safe place for Noah to work out in spite of
the shit he has going on.”

  “The eye,” Adrian said.

  She shrugged. “He also has a TBI—residual vertigo, pretty bad stammer, and other shit. Car crash a few years back. He didn’t give me a lot of details and you know I didn’t ask.” She shrugged, then took a long drink of her tea. “Anyway, after that, he made it very obvious he was into all of you,” she waved her hand up and down the length of his body.

  “Tell me you didn’t offer me up like some sort of bachelor auction,” he begged.

  She punched him again. “I’m not a total asshole, you know. But I casually mentioned that the reason I should have been better about assuming his sexuality is that my twin brother is gay, and it should be second nature by now.”

  Adrian felt his cheeks heat up. He’d been out since his second tour, though he kept it pretty quiet with his men. But he didn’t live a closeted life. Just a lonely one, and he normally didn’t mind. But there was something about Noah that got to him, like a fish hook in the gut that was tugging him to shore.

  “Just call. Invite him for a drink or something,” she said.

  “You know I don’t do bars,” he reminded her. He had a feeling that even thirty years after being out, he still wasn’t ever going to be okay with the loud nightlife. Bars meant a panic attack before his first drink was done, and embarrassing himself by tripping over his bum legs as he tried to get to the door before he ended up hurting someone by accident. He’d made the mistake once or twice after he got out, trying desperately to be normal. It took Wes knocking him around the ring a few times before he got his head on straight about not needing to be anyone’s normal but his own.

  “So invite him to yours,” she said, kicking at his leg. “That way you can take your orthotics off, hang with Lemon, drink something you know you’re going to like that isn’t going to cost you eight bucks a glass. You might actually get to know him that way.” She grinned and waggled her brows.

  He hated when she made sense. “This is a terrible idea,” he said, but he was lifting his phone, and pushing the button, and he tried not to think about how he’d already put Noah’s number in there like he knew this moment was inevitable. The truth was, it was a terrible idea, because he didn’t just want a drink and conversation, and there was every chance Noah didn’t either. Adrian was terrible at casual, but more terrible at serious, and he couldn’t see a way out.

  And yet…

  “Hello?”

  “Noah?” Adrian said, then cleared his throat and shooed his sister off. “It’s Adrian. You uh…you gave me your number? Before? Do you remember…”

  Noah’s soft laugh cut him off. “Yes, hi. I wasn’t expecting your c-call.”

  Adrian’s face flared bright red. “Oh. I’m sorry, you’re probably busy and…”

  “Actually, you’re saving me from all this work I’ve been trying to procrastinate on. I just d-didn’t have an excuse b-before now. How are you?”

  “Good,” Adrian said, then fell into an awkward silence. Before it could get too bad, he blurted, “Are you thirsty?”

  Noah made a choking sound. “Uh? Like presently?”

  “I mean,” Adrian said, slapping a hand over his face. “Would you like to have a drink with me?”

  Noah let out a soft breath, then said, “I would l-love to. Where at?”

  Biting his bottom lip, he released it and said, “I’m not…I don’t love bars, you know? But I don’t live far from campus. If you maybe want to…”

  “Yes,” Noah interrupted, and Adrian swore he could hear a grin. “Why don’t I p-pick something up. Wine, b-beer, whatever you want. Just t-text me? I’ll get it on the way. Oh, and the address.”

  Adrian couldn’t help his own smile at how Noah was just as awkward as he was, but also seemed just as eager to make this mistake. “I’ll do that. I’m not home now, I’m at my sister’s, but I can head out. How does an hour and a half sound?” It would be enough time to scrub off in the shower, do a spot clean, and spray some freshener around the place so it at least looked like he wasn’t a total disaster.

  “Hour and a half is perfect. See you soon.”

  Adrian hung up and sent the text before he could change his mind. He got back a quick okay with a smiley face and tried not to let it get to him. He saw Anna poking her head around the corner with a shit-eating grin, and without looking up, he flipped her off.

  “This is going to be so good,” she sing-songed.

  He didn’t believe her, but he was officially too far gone to care.

  3.

  Noah stared at his phone for a good minute and thirty seconds before it sank in that his random offer—one that he didn’t even mean—to the guy he had the unbelievable hots for suddenly turned into a date. A guy who he was pretty sure was way out of his league. Maybe the guy had a nerd kink, or maybe he just felt bad after his sister confessed how obvious Noah had been pining, but either way, he was getting some kind of date out of it.

  And Adrian hadn’t been lying, his address was within five minutes of his place, which was plenty of time to hoof it to the farmer’s market down the street and pick up some of the beer Adrian had texted. Maybe he’d grab something to eat, too. He didn’t know, he’d never really done this before. Prior to Ryan, he’d been a hot-mess grad student who barely had time to think. The two of them had bonded over coffee and dissertation stress and somehow ended up fucking each other in the supply closet in the TA hallway.

  That turned into something resembling a relationship, two years of living together, and one cheating boyfriend. Since then, Noah had done his share of hooking up off of Grindr and bar-nights whenever Sabrina or Esther were desperate for a night out, but nothing had ever come of it, and Noah was too busy and too tired to really go looking.

  This had fallen into his lap quite unexpectedly and he wasn’t sure he felt ready. He’d been on shaky ground since the accident. The last guy had been really into Noah until he found out about his eye, then he couldn’t stop staring and eventually excused himself from the date before it could get any further. Noah knew his injuries could have been a lot damn worse, and a lot more obvious. He could only imagine the shit Adrian got for his scars and his legs, so this was probably a big deal for him.

  The nerves didn’t make it any easier to stomach, but his anticipation of what might turn into a really good night was enough to get his feet moving. He showered, used an extra layer of deodorant, threw some product into his curls to keep them from frizzing, then put on his most comfy shoes and headed for the door. He brought his laptop bag, discretely stowing his cane inside. Normally he didn’t need it, but night time was a little dodgy and in spite of his resistance, he’d finally given in and had done some training with it.

  He never brought it to school, never wanted to show any sign of what his department head could call weakness. He wanted tenure so bad he could taste it, and he knew they couldn’t technically discriminate against him for a disability, but he had no problem coming up with plenty of ways they could couch their refusal to offer it.

  Still, he didn’t fancy a black eye or broken nose because he missed a curb walking home. The night air was cool on his skin, and he made the familiar way through back alleys until he rounded the corner. The farmer’s market sign was brightly lit, and the inside even more so. Luckily the place was nearly deserted, so he was able to skim through the beer cooler and come up with whatever pale ale thing Adrian had asked for.

  Noah wasn’t really much of a drinker, but he was willing to have a little social lubricant for the evening if it made things between himself and Adrian go a little smoother. He added in some vegan faux cheese dip and some crackers, then a bag of mixed roasted nuts, and some covered in chocolate. He knew it was a bit overkill at this point and hurried to check out before he ended up with a damn steak dinner in his basket.

  He was a little early when his walking GPS informed him he’d made it to Adrian’s place, and he hovered near the entrance. The building was one of the modern places that had just finish
ed building the year before, with a ground floor entrance and three elevators. He was pretty sure the place was occupied mostly by students, but he supposed for a single professor, it was ideal.

  Feeling renewed, he pushed inside the lobby, took the elevator to the fourth floor, then found his way down the hall. It was dim and he had to squint through his glasses lens to see the numbers, but eventually he found Adrian’s and knocked.

  There was a long pause, long enough he started to worry that maybe he’d come too early, or maybe Adrian had even changed his mind. Then he heard slow footsteps and the door swung open. Adrian was there, wearing sweats and a loose t-shirt. It showed off the stark black tattoos on his forearms, his muscles bulging as he held on to the handles of his crutches. His feet were bare and without the braces, and Noah noticed they dragged a little when he stepped back.

  “Hey, s-sorry I’m early,” he said, stepping inside. He moved over so Adrian could shut the door, and he shuffled his feet awkwardly. “I d-duh-didn’t realize I’d g-get here so f-fast.” He bit the inside of his cheek. For whatever reason, talking to Adrian was making his stammer almost as bad as right after the accident, and he just wanted to be chill for this unbelievably gorgeous man.

  “It’s fine,” Adrian told him. He looked tense, almost angry about it, but his tone was soft. “I uh…I ordered from that falafel place down the road, I hope that’s okay. I didn’t know if you’d be hungry, and uh…I hadn’t eaten, and I was working at the shop all afternoon…and I’m rambling.” He ducked his head, which Noah found absurdly endearing. Enough that he wanted to take the man’s face between both of his hands and kiss him.

  Instead he gestured to the sofa. “Then you should s-sit. I g-got snacks and everything.”

  Adrian smiled that same, timid grin which showed off a hint of dimples, and he set his crutches aside before lowering himself down. It was then Noah noticed the half-moons of grease in Adrian’s nail beds and realized he probably hadn’t meant work on campus.

 

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