I twisted the cap off a bottle of lemonade and handed it over, then wheeled Omar’s chair around the desk and motioned for Noah to sit…like this impromptu location change was all so normal. I was surprised he hadn’t ditched me. But he seemed more relaxed now.
Noah stuffed his sunglasses into his bag as he sat on the edge of the leatherette swivel chair, staring up at the two blackboards affixed to the wall between our desks. He scratched at the label on the lemonade bottle distractedly while studying equations he most likely didn’t understand.
“I never went to college. I’ve never been this close to numbers and letters that mean something astronomical and important,” he said conversationally.
“That’s actually an equation for membrane biophysics, allegedly testing a relevant principle in thermodynamics and surface chemistry.”
Noah gave an amused half laugh. “And now, I’m extremely intimidated.”
I pushed my glasses to the bridge of my nose and perched on my own chair, rolling it to the side of my desk to eliminate the excess space between us. “Don’t be. My colleague and I haven’t worked it out yet.”
“Geez, and I can’t even remember how to do long division.” He sipped his lemonade and set the bottle on Omar’s desk. “So…what do you want to know, Thomas? I don’t really have any secrets. Just things I don’t talk about anymore. Everyone does, don’t they?”
“Maybe. Look, I’m sorry I’ve intruded and made this into something weird. I think that might be my evil specialty. I warned you I didn’t have much dating experience,” I joked.
Noah’s smile met his eyes this time. “You’re funny.”
“By accident.” We shared a long look and this time when the silence gathered, it was lighter and unfettered. And I knew he trusted me. “Can I ask what happened? You can tell me to shut up or—”
“I got jumped by a group of homophobic thugs after leaving a gay bar in Miami seven years ago. They came out of nowhere, caged me in an alley, beat me to a bloody fucking pulp, and left me for dead.”
“Oh, my God.”
“I know. That sums it up.” He shrugged with a hollow-sounding huff.
I closed my eyes briefly and clenched my fists…in anger and horror. “How many perpetrators? Who found you? Was anyone with you?”
Noah lifted a brow, but patiently answered my questions.
“Maybe three…perpetrators? I can’t remember. I couldn’t identify them in a lineup. It was dark and they came at me fast with fists flying. One of them had a crowbar or something like it. I blacked out. Thank fuck.” He shuddered before continuing. “I woke up in a hospital with tubes everywhere, cracked ribs, my left leg and my right arm in casts, my face swollen and purple and—it was bad.”
My heart lurched in my chest. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“Hmm. The worst part came later.” He heaved a sigh. “My team dropped me, my friends disappeared, and my parents cut me out of their lives. I was in a hospital far from home, and I really had no home anyway. For the first time in my life, I was just…alone. I lost everything.”
“What about Stefan?”
“Neither of us were out at the time. It wasn’t safe and he was dealing with his own shit. I guess I pushed him away. Or maybe I was too strung out on painkillers and the collapse of my world to add him to the mix. I thought it was best to try to fix my relationship with my parents and my friends and—none of that happened.”
“I’m so sorry, Noah.” I repeated, lacing my fingers through his.
He pulled his hand away and shook his head. “Don’t be. It was a long time ago. My bones healed and the bruises faded. I have a scar on my hip, but otherwise, I’m good. I got lucky. The most unlikely guardian angel descended a month into my hospital stay and helped my sort out my life.”
“Your friend, Easton?”
“Yep. He was more of an acquaintance than a real friend back then. He’d just come out to his wife and was going through a divorce when he read about me online. I became his LGBTQ project,” Noah commented with a wistful shrug. “He hooked me up with a lawyer and helped me settle a few discrimination and libel suits. He also helped move me to LA and set me up with a therapist I still see religiously.”
“That’s good.”
“It is. I lost one life, but built another. It’s not the life I planned or ever wanted, but it’s not a bad life. I have loyal friends and money in the bank. And I love my job. I’m doing okay.” He leaned forward and set a hand on my knee.
“And your parents? They just…left you?”
He sighed. “They had a few choice words about homosexuality on their way out the door, but—hey, you’re not allowed to pity me, you know. It’s against the rules.”