Out of the Blackness by Quinn Carter

Author:Quinn, Carter [Quinn, Carter]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: gay contemporary fiction, gay fiction, m/m romance, m/m contemporary fiction, gay romance
ISBN: 9781467581424
Publisher: Carter Quinn Books
Published: 2013-07-08T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10 - February

I prop my head on my fist and stare out the break room door. Noah should be here any minute for lunch, but until then I’m bored. It’s hard to believe it’s the first of February already. The ubiquitous Valentine’s Day decorations hanging and sitting all over the sales floor are enough to make me forever and always hate the color pink. And seriously, what’s so romantic about a book? Walter, as usual, has ordered more Kama Sutra-type books that, frankly, squick me out. It’s not hetero sex that does it, per se, just the idea of what those books are going to be used for when the purchasers get them home—if they even make it home. Last year I found more than a few of them sticky and discarded in the bathroom. I shudder at the thought. Poor books.

I’d wager my next paycheck Noah wouldn’t need a book like that. His hormones probably provided him with the perfect instruction manual as soon as he hit puberty. The way he walks around with so much confidence, I just know the man’s never struggled or been lonely in bed. Of course that brings images of Noah spread out in a big bed in just boxers. I close my eyes to see the image more clearly, even though I realize it’s a supremely stupid thing to do. I’ve never seen him naked, not even with his shirt completely undone, so how could my mental image of him be anywhere near the real thing? And why would I want to see the real thing? Unless—unless I was planning to have sex with him, which I absolutely am not.

Instead of the tsunami of panic that thought should—would normally—bring with it, the only things that rise are my temperature and the constriction level of my slacks. I shake my head hard to clear it of these flights of fancy and laugh a little awkwardly at myself.

We’ve spent quite a bit of time together since New Year’s Eve. It’s kind of hard not to when I’m cooking for him as much or more than I’m cooking for Sam and me. Cooking for Noah has been more fun than work, something I never would have expected. I’ve taken advantage of my employee discount more in the last thirty days than I have in the entire time I’ve worked at Flip the Page, and for cookbooks, of all things. So far, Noah has been eager, grateful and complimentary of my concoctions. I’ve only repeated one meal—sausage goulash—because he asked me to.

In thirty days we’ve smiled and laughed and talked about everything from our favorite colors—his is blue, mine came out “hazel” and I blushed furiously while he flashed those dimples at me—to world events, to my progress with Kendall.

In thirty days he hasn’t tried to touch me again.

In some ways, I’m beginning to wonder if I imagined the whole scene in Kaleb’s front yard, but then I remember the taste of him and I know I wouldn’t have made that up, not like the images of him in his boxers.

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