Noah recoiled as though Ravenswood had threatened him with bodily harm. “I am not,” he said, prickles breaking out all over his body. “I love Marcus. Marcus is my one and only, my true love. There will never be anyone for me but Marcus.”
Ravenswood snorted and shook his head. He muttered something under his breath that sounded very much like, “You’re as mad as Marcus said you were.”
Noah took a step back, his emotions spiraling. Marcus couldn’t have said that. Marcus loved him, and he loved Marcus. It was the way things were, the way things would always be.
He shook his head, and when that didn’t feel like enough, he gripped the sides of his head, squeezed his eyes shut, and fought off the whispers that tried to tell him he was useless, pointless, and wrong about everything.
“You can’t tell me that things aren’t the way they are,” he said, his eyes still closed. “I know how things are, how they are meant to be. I love Marcus and Marcus loves me. Beckett loves you, and the two of you will be together.”
“No, we won’t,” Ravenswood said firmly. “Stop pestering me, and tell Beckett to stop pestering me as well. I have work to do.”
With that, Ravenswood turned and marched off to a room at the far end of the hall.
Noah stood where he was for a moment, feeling doused in emotions that made him want to sink to the ground and never get up again. He wasn’t wrong. He couldn’t be wrong. And yet, that horrible, dark, mad feeling within him, the one that made him want to tear things and throw things, felt as though it would consume him if he wasn’t careful.
He headed back into the main part of the club, feeling detached after his defeat. So much so that he almost didn’t notice Beckett loitering near the corner of the stage, arranging more decorations to be hung.
No, that was silly. Of course he noticed Beckett. How could he not? Beckett was his dear friend. He was the generous soul who had caught him when he’d fallen. It was unjust that Beckett should be left with his arms empty simply because Ravenswood didn’t see the truth yet.
“I’m sorry,” he said, approaching Beckett with a renewed spirit of determination. “Whatever he said to you, I’m so sorry.”
“It was nothing I haven’t heard before,” Beckett said with a heavy sigh.
Noah refused to let it rest there. He threw himself against Beckett, wrapping his arms around him and holding his friend the way he wished that someone, anyone would hold him when he felt so defeated.
Beckett laughed and returned the embrace, squeezing Noah tight. “There, there,” he said, good humor in his voice. “I will live to fight another day.”
“Yes, you will,” Noah said. “We both will.”
Beckett continued to laugh and hug Noah tightly. It was the most glorious thing Noah had ever experienced. So much so that he rested his head against Beckett’s and closed his eyes for a moment. He needed the touch, needed the warmth of Beckett’s body and the sense that someone cared for him. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had shown that sort of affection toward him.
He breathed in Beckett’s scent again, felt the hard lines and planes of his body, and something stirred within him. Something deep and pulsing, like a dragon unfurling its wings, swept through Noah. His cock seemed to take notice of it as well, though he ignored that part of his reaction. He felt too good, too happy, right where he was, in Beckett’s arms. He didn’t ever want the man to let go of him.
But that was impossible. He loved Marcus and Marcus loved him. And Beckett was destined for Ravenswood, the bastard. His body and emotions were trying to deceive him. He couldn’t trust how he felt.
He sucked in a last breath of Beckett, then pushed himself away. With a forced smile, he stepped around Beckett to the row of decorations laid out on the edge of the stage.
“Right,” he said, surveying the mess. “Let’s get this club decorated. We have a masquerade ball to attend tonight, and I am determined that we will both win everything we’ve been longing for before the night is done.”
He would sort out the new, disturbing things his heart was trying to tell him later.
ChapterSix
The Halloween masquerade ball was a fantastic idea and an astounding success. Beckett couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen such a crowd at The Slippery Slope. With a minimum of advertising, they’d packed the place to the rafters. The usual crowd was there, all of them dressed to the nines in costumes of every description, and more than a few members of high society had shown up in deep disguise to mingle with the usual sailors and laborers who were looking for a night of illicit fun.
Beckett should have been happy about the whole thing—and he was happy, truly—but the cringing frustration that had gripped him when Graham had told him off that morning had yet to let go. It dampened his mood more than he wanted it to as he made his way around the edges of the overcrowded club, searching for Noah.
“Don’t you look grand,” Duncan Redford stopped him as he passed near the table where The Five were entertaining some new friends. “Where did you find a costume like that?”
“This?” Beckett glanced down at his costume. There was nothing particularly unusual about the colorful suit with its bright, brocade waistcoat. What made the costume noteworthy were the tall rabbit ears he wore and the way he’d painted his face to resemble whiskers and rabbit teeth. “Just a few things I had lying around the house,” he told Duncan with a grin.
“Let me guess,” Duncan’s companion for the evening, a man whom Beckett didn’t know who was dressed like Queen Cleopatra, said, “Are you the Easter Bunny?”
“No,” Beckett laughed. “I’m the March Hare. FromAlice in Wonderland?”
“Of course you are,” Duncan’s companion said, then turned to Duncan and cooed, “Of course he is,” before planting a drunken kiss on Duncan’s already painted lips.
Beckett laughed and continued around the table. “I’ll just leave you to it.”