His friend had gotten sexier with age. The little lines around his eyes and the laugh lines framing his mouth left Noah wanting to cup Rowe’s face and nibble along his lips until he finally coaxed a sigh from him, gaining entrance to his mouth once again.
Noah didn’t even need to close his eyes to remember the sound of that sigh, the brush of his lips, first tentative, then giving way to desperation and hunger until Noah found himself pinned to the floor under Rowe’s heavy weight.
Panic slammed through Noah and for a moment he struggled to draw a breath. What the fuck was he doing? Rowe had a life with these close friends; he was struggling to get on his feet again after losing his beloved wife. Rowe had obviously moved on from that one night years ago, never given it another thought. Noah could only offer him more complications and chaos. He never should have sought Rowe out.
The return of the server helped to pull Noah from old memories that were best left forgotten. They both placed their orders and she left with the menus, leaving Noah flinching under Rowe’s direct stare.
“Spit it out, Keegan,” Rowe said.
His head jerked up and he stared at Rowe, his mouth suddenly gone dry. “What?”
“You’ve got that look. You’re either constipated or you’ve got something to say.”
“Nice.”
“Talk.”
Noah looked down, turned a little container of cream over with his fingertips, keeping his eyes locked on it rather than the intensity of Rowe’s bright green eyes along with that damned smile. It had turned his head the very first day he’d met Rowe.
“I was thinking about that last trip,” Noah started slowly, waiting for Rowe to stop him but praying that he wouldn’t. The words were painful to say, but it was better to have them said and clear the air. Noah had to know that he didn’t have a shot in hell with Rowe if he was ever going to let go of the hope of a second chance.
Rowe said nothing, just continued staring.
“We got so fucking lost in Prague that night, looking for that stupid absinthe bar some local drunk told you about.”
“Noah…”
There was a breathless note of pleading in Rowe’s voice, as if he were begging Noah not to continue, but the words had started and he couldn’t cut them off. Not yet. “We stayed in that weird B&B with all the ceramic cats. You kept saying they were staring at you.”
Rowe huffed a soundless laugh. “They were fucking staring at me.”
Noah lifted his eyes back to Rowe to see his expression had softened, the smile still curling the corners of his mouth. “I had rug burn on my elbows and shoulders for two days after that night.”
Rowe’s expression closed off in the blink of an eye, both hands tightening around the coffee mug. “Keegan, don’t.”
“Don’t ever think about that night, huh?” He struggled to keep his tone light when his muscles clenched tight in anticipation of the hard smack down he expected from Rowe.
“Sometimes. More often now since…” Rowe mumbled, letting his voice drift off.
Noah fought the urge to press him, his heart pounding like an addict shooting a speedball. Did Rowe mean since the death of his wife or since Noah had come into town? He really didn’t want to crawl into this dark corner of their past, but the words kept falling from his mouth. After that night, they never talked about it. Rowe just ran, telling Noah to forget that it ever happened. Two days later, Noah had ended up in the hospital with fucking pneumonia.
“Did you…ever again?”
Rowe shifted in the booth, his eyes locked on the coffee in front of him. He shook his head, lines in his forehead running deeper. “With another guy?” he asked, his voice dipping rough and low as if he were afraid someone would overhear them from their remote location. “No. I…no, I haven’t.”
A shout of joy bubbled up in Noah’s throat but he swallowed it back. He knew he shouldn’t feel happiness that Rowe hadn’t explored more of his sexuality, but he couldn’t help it. Some little possessive voice whispered in the back of his brain that Rowe was his. He could accept the love Rowe had with Mel. That was different. She’d made him happy for years. He’d given up on the idea of something more with Rowe a long time ago. But now…no, someone else wasn’t getting a shot at him.
“Look, Keegan…”
Noah forced out a laugh and tried to relax in the booth. Or at least look like he was. He could hear it in Rowe’s tone. The man was about to lay down something heavy and it was better if he cut him off now. Though…he knew he wasn’t going to give up as easily this time. If he could walk up to the man after so long and still feel that heavy kick of desire, whatever they had between them was worth more of a try.