“Sit your ass down and I’ll grab your pills. They only gave you Vicodin, probably because you can’t handle yourself.”
“I need to work on my car.”
“Doubt that’s happening today. You got hit by a truck yesterday, remember?” Cooper walked over, grabbed the pill bottle and tossed it to Noah, who caught it.
They sat back at the table, and his friend took one of the pills.
“I’m a fire fighter,” he told Noah. He didn’t want to look him in the eye, because he knew Noah would know how important that was to him.
“It’s good way to honor them. Your parents.”
Cooper gave a simple nod at that. It was ridiculous that after all these years, he still couldn’t talk about losing his parents in the fire. He’d been almost ten when he came to Blackcreek to live with his Uncle Vernon, and they’d never made him talk. Even the times he probably should have, Vernon wouldn’t go there. It wasn’t how a man dealt, he’d said. But, the fact that Noah just understood him? That spoke volumes.
“I just bought the house, so I’m working on it in my spare time. I do three, twelve-hour shifts a week, so it gives me lots of spare time.”
Cooper watched as Noah eyed the kitchen. It wasn’t that his house was falling apart or anything, but it was old. A big old place, with wood floors, and a lot of windows. Sure it needed some tender love and care, but Cooper had loved it on sight.
“I’ll be glad to help,” Noah told him.
“I’ll take you up on that.”
For about forty-five minutes, they talked about Noah’s car, jobs and renting the room. They joked a little about their childhood, but didn’t delve too far into it. Finally, Noah stood. “I really need a shower. Do you mind?”
Coop stood too. “Of course not. I’ll help you get your stuff out of the car.” He knew Noah wouldn’t let him get it by himself, no matter his injury. Cooper didn’t blame him, because he would be the same way.
Considering he was moving, Noah didn’t come with a lot of stuff; a couple of boxes and a few bags. It took less than five minutes for them to get everything, into what would be, Noah’s room.
“There’s no bathroom in your room. The shower in my bathroom’s broken. Until I get around to fixing it, we’re going to have to share the one in the hall.”
“Not a problem, man. I appreciate you letting me stay here.”
Cooper thought he saw something in Noah’s stare that made him wonder if Noah was really trying to say something else. As quickly as it had come, it was gone though, and he figured he must have imagined it.
“What are friends for? I’ll take ya out sometime and we’ll…” Shit. He’d done it again. Almost said, they’d go find some women. He’d never really had an openly gay friend before. Like he said, it didn’t bother him, but it was…different.
“Have a beer?” Noah finished for him, making Cooper feel like an ass.
“Yeah. We’ll have a beer.”
When Noah turned around to head for that restroom, Cooper didn’t move. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t stop himself from watching his old friend go.
The last thing Cooper thought as Noah closed the door was that he didn’t look like he was gay, to him. Then, he realized, what a stupid thing that was to think. “Jesus. What the hell is wrong with me?” he took one more look at the closed bathroom door, and walked away.
CHAPTER THREE
Noah didn’t do much for the next few days. His ribs were killing him, and he wanted to give Cooper a little space. Noah believed that Cooper would really be okay with his sexual orientation, otherwise he wouldn’t be staying here. After a while, you got a feel for people and he trusted Coop. He also knew it was a shock to his friend, so he thought it would be better to lay low.
But after three days, he was getting a little stir crazy keeping himself in his room. He needed to get out and scour for shops—not that he could do much until his ribs were healed a bit more, but if he couldn’t work, he planned to at least get something done on his car.
Noah threw on a pair of jeans, an old T-shirt and his shoes, before heading outside. Cooper wasn’t home, so Noah had the place to himself, which was good. He loved working on cars, but it was something he wanted to do on his own. It was the same with building furniture. He liked to concentrate, to get lost in what he was doing. Noah enjoyed nothing more than working with his hands.
Noah opened the hood, pulled out his tools and bent over the engine. If he couldn’t get this figured out, he’d have to bring her to the mechanic, which he didn’t want to do. When he heard the rumble of a truck in the driveway, it felt like it was only five minutes later, though, experience told him it was much longer.
