But more than that, it was because he knew Adam couldn’t reciprocate. And saying I love you only to hear nothing back would break something in him, even if that wasn’t fair to Adam. Thomas had warned Noah, and he’d said it didn’t matter. And it didn’t in a big picture kind of way.
Adam protected him, comforted him, gave him what he needed as long as Noah gave clear, concise instructions. Adam did everything he could to show Noah that they belonged together. He knew it, too. He did. On the most basic, fundamental level, Noah knew there was nobody else for him but Adam. They were…bonded. Even if that bond was formed through blood and trauma. Or maybe because of it.
But Adam would never have butterflies over Noah, would never ache from missing him, wouldn’t long for him when they were apart, would never get that breathless, caught up feeling that came from just knowing that person was near. Part of Noah envied him, while the other part hurt for him. Those things were both a blessing and a curse.
Noah looked down at his screen at the photo of the two of them that Adam had turned into Noah’s wallpaper. They looked so normal, so in love. In the picture, Adam was lying beside him, their heads slotted together, both making stupid faces. Adam didn’t look like somebody who couldn’t love Noah. Adam looked like he did love Noah and Adam never pretended with him.
Noah once more took a deep breath and let it out.
“Everything okay?” the driver asked.
Noah’s head bobbed. “Yes, I’m fine. Just tired.”
The driver once more went back to ignoring him, and Noah watched the world pass by in a swirl of headlights. The truth was, it didn’t matter if Adam loved him or not. Noah wasn’t going anywhere. The chemicals Adam’s brain denied him—the ones that released endorphins or dopamine or whatever it was that tricked people into thinking they were in love—were the same ones that told Noah nobody else mattered, nobody but Adam.
Hell, Adam hadn’t even needed those chemicals to choose Noah. He just had. He’d looked at Noah and decided he was his person. The one he’d kill for, die for, choose over any other, including his own family. So, that had to be better, right? Making the decision to do those things without the chemicals. It felt better to Noah. It felt like love. So, that was what Noah would call it. Adam loved Noah in every way he could.
Fifteen minutes later, they pulled into Gary’s development. Noah asked the Uber driver to stop a block from the house, choosing to approach on foot. Once he saw the drive was empty, he strode to the front door, key from the other night in hand, unlocking the door and entering like he had a right to be there.
Once inside, he headed directly into Gary’s office, stopping short at the wall of boxes. Moving boxes. Neatly taped and stacked on top of each other in the corners of the rooms. Noah’s heart galloped in his chest. Where the fuck was he going? Did Gary think they were on to him? Had he alerted the others?
Noah shook the thought away. People fucking moved all the time. Maybe he was just being paranoid. He needed to concentrate on the task at hand. He had a job to do. He needed to get that laptop. He weaved his way around the boxes, dropping into Gary’s office chair, relieved to see the key still beneath the tray in the top drawer where Adam had returned it. He put the key in the lock. It gave with a soft click. But when he opened the drawer, it was empty.
Fuck.
Acid sloshed in Noah’s stomach, frustration making his chest tight. He slammed his fist onto the desk, fury and frustration overwhelming his system. Goddamn it. Maybe it was all too late. Maybe the whole thing had already blown up in their faces.
No.
Laptops were portable. He couldn’t imagine that Gary would bring it to the club with him. Not after his backpack was stolen. It had to be there somewhere. Adam kept his laptop on the dining room table. He rose, slipping between the stacks of boxes to the hallway. He tried to keep his search orderly, working room to room. He didn’t check the boxes. He found it hard to believe somebody would pack a laptop away.
Unless he had. Unless he didn’t use it that often. Shit. Was it packed away? Lying at the bottom of one of the many boxes? The laptop certainly wasn’t anywhere obvious. Noah had scoured the rooms. Even Gary’s bedroom. And nothing.
Fuck it.
He went to the kitchen, relieved to see the silverware hadn’t been packed. He grabbed a small paring knife and made his way back to the office. He sliced the first box, lip curling when he saw it was nothing but old file folders and bank statements. He tossed the box aside before moving on to the next. He was done with orderly. Each box that produced nothing was tossed aside until Noah was surrounded by paper and upturned boxes littered the floor.
Noah jumped as his phone started to vibrate in his pocket, his heart rate skyrocketing before he realized what it was. He pulled it free, glancing down at the screen. Adam. He swiped to answer it but froze at the sound of a gun being cocked.
He whipped around to find Gary standing there, a fifty caliber Desert Eagle in his hand. It was huge, so big it made Gary’s hands seem small in comparison. Of course, he’d have a gun that big. So fitting.
Gary sneered. “You always were a little street rat.”
“Hey, Gary,” Noah said, voice coming out chipper with just a hint of fear, even though his heart was in his stomach and blood was whooshing in his ears. “I thought you’d be at the club.”
Gary snorted. “Clearly. Drop the phone and kick it to me.”
He did his best not to lose his composure as he did as Gary asked, watching as the man pocketed his phone. Would Adam come to look for him when he didn’t answer his call? He must have seen Noah’s text, right? Maybe he was already on his way. Noah just had to keep Gary talking long enough for Adam to find him.
“How’d you know I was here?”
“Silent alarm. Rudimentary, but it’s only temporary. After you stole my backpack and then broke into my house, I knew I needed something short term until I move. My new house has a much better, more sophisticated alarm system. Can’t be too careful, right?”