Noah’s smile was sweet, and he closed the distance between us. Instead of sitting on the coffee table like he’d been doing for the last two weeks, he sat next to me. Close, so that we were touching, but angled so we could see each other without craning our necks.
“You’re the reason I knew I liked boys when I was seven,” he said simply, his voice soft and full of affection. “But you were Joe’s best friend, my older brother for all intents and purposes, and I knew I didn’t have even a glimmer of a chance.” He paused and then his smile turned rueful. “Well, I didn’t know then. But by the time I was thirteen, I figured shit out and what cocks were really for, and what I wanted to do with them. It was then that I shoved all thoughts of you firmly into the friend box, and I never looked back. I couldn’t allow myself to.”