“Because it’s none of your business.”
“Right.” Jesus, so much for casually shooting the shit. “Welp, it’s been nice chatting with you, Gavin. Feel free to not deny it next time I point out the fact that you’re incapable of having a full conversation with me.”
At that, Gavin scowled. “Besides Simeon and Marcus, I waste more of my life talking to you than anyone.”
“What about Max?”
“What about him?”
“Don’t you talk to him?”
“No. I dick him down until he nuts sometimes and face fuck him others. There’s no need for conversation. And he didn’t spend the whole weekend. He got here last night.”
Somehow the matter-of-fact words painted such vivid portraits in my mind that I had no choice but to look away. I was getting overheated again, especially because he’d moved slightly closer until I could smell the sweat and musk on his skin.
“If you need privacy in the evenings, just let me know so I can stay out of the way,” I said. “It’s awkward to walk in on things like that.”
“Why is it awkward?”
“Because.” I pulled out multiple cartons of eggs and stacked them on the counter. “It’s just weird. I don’t know, Gavin. Just let me know if you want me to stay out of the way. Whether it’s during the day or in the evening, I’ll keep to myself and not bother you while you have company. I’m sure you’re going to go stir-crazy locked in here, and I’m sure you’re used to getting laid constantly, so don’t let me stop you or thwart you or make things weird.”
Gavin grabbed one of the bags and began unloading it. “You’re the only one making it weird. It’s just fucking, Noah. I’m not gonna have him over for date nights like you and your dumb mechanic. I don’t roll that way.”
“Uh-huh. You just have weekend sleepovers with fitness models.”
“And I told you he just came over last night. And we barely talked the whole time.” Gavin set a box of Frosted Flakes down on the counter. “What are you and your mechanic gonna do? Watch movies? Have dinner? Discuss the inner workings of a fucking import car?”
“Ha. Funny. For your information, we’ll probably talk books. He reads a lot.”
“Shocking.”
I grabbed my Frosted Flakes. “I’d think you of all people wouldn’t go around stereotyping people. If I went by stereotypes, I’d be shocked you’re as sharp as you are. Most people think jocks are idiots.”
Gavin gave me a dry look. “We play a sport that will likely result in our brains being covered in lesions until we get brain damage. We are idiots.”
I have no idea why, but that single sentence cracked me up. I didn’t miss his pleased smile or the way it lit up his eyes. He jerked his chin at the box of cereal.
“I don’t eat that shit.”
“Good. ’Cause it’s mine.”
“You’re hopeless.”
“When it comes to eating healthy? Yeah. I am. I prefer to enjoy my time on this earth by eating the deliciousness of sugar-frosted flakes. I am making us omelets for breakfast, though. A billion eggs for you. Two for me. Is that cool?”
“Yeah. Sounds good.” Gavin turned to unload the rest of the bags. When he was done, he backed to the door. “I’m gonna shower.”
Thank God. He reeked of sex. It was distracting. I watched him head to the archway leading out of the kitchen, and he looked over his shoulder. I chose that moment to ask, “Why did you let me know now? About being bisexual?”
“Because Simeon was right.”
“About what?” I asked.
“You are trustworthy. And I’m tired of always hiding.”
Chapter Ten
Noah
“Why are you letting me use your car?”
Gavin looked at me over his book. I had no idea where he’d gotten it, and I wasn’t even sure he was actually reading it, but the man was holding an honest-to-god book. Even after all his sneering about Case.
“Why are you wearing such tight pants?”
“They’re not that tight.”
“Yeah they are.” He rested the book on his chest, and I saw it was a football novel. Figured. “You trying to fuck Simeon?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Positive. He’s not my type.”
Gavin scoffed. “Simeon is everyone’s type.”
“Well, not mine. I’m not into jocks.”
I’d been hoping to draw Gavin into the kind of banter that was usually more fun than him accusing me of being a “jersey chaser,” as he called it, but I got nothing. Just a flat stare before those golden eyes returned to his damn book. I held up the keys again.
“Why are you letting me take it? You said I could only drive your cars on the island.” He flipped a page. “I’m going all the way to the training center in Jersey with a pit stop in Queens.”
“What’s the pit stop for? Your father?”
“To pick up my friend Jasmine. My father didn’t want to go.” Because he thinks you’re a complete psychopath. “He’s unwilling to go out because he doesn’t have extra cash, and he hates looking poor. Even though we’ve always been poor. He’s always cared about what other people think.”