Mele Kalikimaka by Noah Willoughby & Noah Willoughby

Author:Noah Willoughby & Noah Willoughby [Willoughby, B.G. Thomas & Noah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay romance
ISBN: 978-1-63533-185-1
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2016-12-23T05:00:00+00:00

THIRTEEN

MICAH OPENED the door to his apartment, turned on the lights, and invited Chandler in. The Plaza it wasn’t. But somehow, even though there wasn’t a lot there, it suited Micah in its starkness and masculinity.

There was little color in the room, save for the brightly colored curtains and a few floral paintings dotting the walls. There was a small folding table acting as a makeshift desk, cluttered with paperwork and a laptop. A small, boxy TV sat on top of a squatty dresser against the wall. In the corner, a surfboard stood collecting dust, and there was a snorkel and fin set leaning against it.

Surfboard? Snorkel? Interesting. It made Chandler curious.

In the end, though, he found that was the last thing he wanted right now. Wine. That’s what he wanted.

And to see what Micah looked like without his clothes.

“Wine?” he asked and then remembered to say, “Nice place.”

“Aw, thanks,” said Micah. “As you can see, I don’t entertain much.”

Micah went to the kitchen and pulled out a couple of glasses from the cupboard. He uncorked a bottle of wine and poured, handed one to Chandler.

It wasn’t Chateau Barbanau’s Rosé Provençal L’Instant, but it was nice. A red. Pinot noir, he thought. Actually not too bad at all. Sexy aftertaste.

He looked around for a place to sit.

“Oops!” Micah set his glass on the counter. He dragged the table and chair aside and grabbed a handle that was sticking out of the wall. It revealed a fold-down bed, full size, and Micah lowered it to the floor.

Well, I’ll be damned, Chandler thought, and wondered if he might have one like it.

“Sorry. I’ve just got the one chair,” Micah said, sitting on the bed. He motioned to the chair.

Buck decided to ignore the offer and sat down next to Micah on the bed instead.

Close.

“A toast?” Micah asked. “To new beginnings?”

New beginnings? Chandler wondered. What did that mean? Then he just figured, what the hell? “New beginnings,” he said.

They clinked glasses and drank, and then everything that Tim had said, had done, hit him again. That fucker, he thought. That fucking fucker.

Don’t think about it.

He took another drink and turned to Micah. “Can we forget about this ‘stuff’?”

“Stuff?”

“Stuff.” He held up his hand like a puppet and made talk-talk motions.

Micah looked a little taken aback.

Chandler put his glass down on the table. Then he took a chance—because he needed this really bad—and leaned in and kissed Micah.

Hard.

“Whoa,” said Micah, pulling away.

Chandler sat back. No. No “whoa!” Fuck. Let’s fuck.

He studied Micah’s face. Raised an eyebrow.

A sly smile crept onto Micah’s face. He leaned in close and returned the kiss.

Thank fucking God.

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