A Still, Small Voice Read online

  Noah pulled open the door and entered the hallway, shuffling his slippers across the concrete floor. He could see instantly that Paul noticed him, but Cherie was still gesturing wildly, her voice so shrill without the buffer of the heavy metal door that it caused Noah to wince. He pulled himself up alongside his former colleagues and stopped. Cherie finally glanced over at him.

  “Hi,” Noah said, his hands resting comfortably on his hips. “You mind taking this outside or inside your loft?”

  “It’s not our loft, and I’ll thank you—”

  “I wasn’t speaking to you, Mrs. Lang,” Noah said, his lips curling into a sneer; Cherie had never taken Paul’s last name. “I was speaking to Paul.”

  “Then why were you looking at me?”

  “Because you’re the one barking out here like some lunatic while I’m trying to sleep.”

  “Still haven’t found another job, huh?” Cherie’s arms were crossed over her chest now, her intention to provoke Noah quite clear. “Must be tough to get another job when you’re a sexual deviant.”

  Noah laughed. Okay, I tried to be nice. “Cherie, I’d love to stand out here and trade witticisms with you for the next couple of hours, but if you don’t can it and get the fuck out of this building, I’ll be more than happy to call the police and press charges.” Noah reached into his back pocket and took out his cell phone.

  Cherie inhaled deeply, and Noah looked down at his iPhone, punching in the first two digits, preparing himself for a heated battle.

  “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer,” Cherie said to Paul and then shrugged her purse higher onto her shoulder. With one final sneer at Noah, who just continued to smile, Cherie stormed down the three stairs and pushed open the door, her sickeningly sweet perfume still lingering in the air.

  “What a bitch,” Noah mumbled as he turned and headed back to his apartment. He wanted to turn around to speak with Paul, but he found himself suddenly resentful that his former lover had reappeared in his life, bringing all the drama that Noah had thought of as his past.

  “Thank you,” Paul said, and Noah raised a hand, his only acknowledgment of the comment. When Noah reached his door, he heard Paul’s footsteps. “And I’m sorry that we woke you. She’s just—”

  “I know, Paul. I worked with her for four years before you came along.” Noah crossed the threshold of his loft and put his hand on the doorknob, ready to close it and continue his nap. “And I tried to warn you about her, didn’t I?” His heart broke a little at the sad expression on Paul’s face, at the resigned and defeated nod of his head.

  “I guess I should have listened to you, huh?” Paul offered a humorless laugh and shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “I think she only married me so that she could have a child.”

  “That’s none of my business, Paul.” Noah began to shut the door. “Not anymore, anyway.” Noah offered a sad smile for what could have been or for what Paul was going through with his wife; he wasn’t really sure which.

  “Can I take you out to dinner or something?” Paul removed his hands from his pockets and began to move them in circles, one around the other. Noah recognized the gesture with something akin to heartache; it was what Paul did when he was nervous or feeling alone and lonely. It was what he had been doing when he’d first asked Noah out on their first date. “You know, to thank you.”

  “I’m sorry, but no.”

  Noah closed the door without saying good-bye, without saying anything further, in fact. He was wide awake, but the memory of that afternoon in late September, when Paul had come to his classroom to invite him to dinner, came back to Noah with astonishing clarity. He returned to his sofa, suddenly feeling exhausted, and closed his eyes. …

  As had been his custom since he’d begun his teaching career, Noah was in his room after the last class of the day and was calling parents to advise them of missing assignments, progress or lack thereof, and any concerns over skipping classes or detrimental behavior issues. He’d just finished a call to Skyler’s father and was resting his head in his hands, wondering how a father could be so clueless, when he heard a knock at the door. He looked up just as Paul came through the door offering a smile.

  “Bad day?”

  “No,” Noah said, shaking his head. “I don’t know why I’m still so surprised when parents believe everything their kids tell them.”

  “Uh-oh,” Paul remarked as he sat on one of the desks beside Noah’s large one. “Can I ask which one?”

  “Skyler something-or-other,” Noah said as he leaned back in his chair and scrubbed his hands over his face. “She’s done nothing so far, she’s failed the two unit tests, and she seems to think that rules don’t apply to her.”

  “I think I know who you’re talking about. Dark hair, attitude to spare, and a real fondness for arguing?”

  Noah nodded. “Anyway, what can I do for you?”

  Noah’s question seemed to cause Paul’s expression to become somewhat guarded, his two large hands circling each other as he studied something on the floor. “I was just wondering if you might want to, you know… I wanted to take you out to dinner or something. To say… to thank you for all the help you’ve given me.” Paul finally looked over at Noah, who was finding the entire scenario quite endearing and touching. He wasn’t sure if Paul was actually asking him out or not, but he decided to take pity on the man.

  “Sure,” Noah said as he began to pack up his laptop and the tests he needed to correct for tomorrow. “Did you want to go tonight, or were you thinking some other night?”

  “Tonight’s good,” Paul said as he lifted himself off the desk and watched Noah put his things in his briefcase. “You can pick the restaurant and I’ll pay.”

  “Oh, I’m no good at that. I always end up picking the place with the worst service and food worse than a Cuban prison.” Noah laughed and noticed how Paul seemed to relax visibly. “Why don’t you pick and pay?”

  “Sure, but I just have to go up to my room and get some things to take home.” Paul started backing up to the door. “Do you want to meet there, or…?”

  “Where?”

  “How about Sara’s over on 87th? In half an hour?” Paul moved toward the door, and Noah followed.

  Noah looked at his watch. “Sure, it will give me enough time to go home and change.”

  “Don’t need to,” Paul said as he waited for Noah to lock his classroom door. “Nothing wrong with how you look right now.”

  Noah swiveled his head quickly to see the look on Paul’s face, but he seemed to find something fascinating to study at the other end of the hallway. He wasn’t sure if Paul was flirting with him or just trying to be nice, but Noah figured he would find out soon enough at dinner. Sara’s was one of those kinds of restaurants where the lighting was kept low, the candles were scented, and the conversations as quiet and unobtrusive as the wait staff.

  Noah bid good-bye to Paul at the door to his classroom and exited the building, not realizing until he was halfway home that he was wearing a grin. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the possibility that Paul was asking him out tonight or if it was because he really wanted to find out. Noah’s gaydar would never be what Aiden called finely tuned, and this fact had caused a few uncomfortable situations for Noah in the past, but regardless, Noah really liked Paul. He liked how motivated and conscientious Paul was about trying to be an advocate for all of his students. Noah was gaining a tremendous amount of respect for the new staff member and had enjoyed almost a month of spending time with him discussing student government as well as helping him as a mentor.

  Paul’s confidence seemed to be growing daily, and Noah had noticed that he no longer asked questions about discipline or classroom management. And the students seemed to like the new teacher as well. Even if he wasn’t on duty, Paul would take the time to go to the cafeteria and chat with some of the students. And if he wasn’t in the cafeteria, he could usually be found in his classroom helping students who were having difficulties with essays or social s
tudies concepts. Paul hadn’t needed much help from Noah when it came to course content, but he’d definitely needed some guidance on how to take advantage of the SMART Board technology that now saw Paul streaming videos of current events.

  Noah had spent almost an entire afternoon one Saturday, when Paul had discovered that Noah also liked to come in on Saturdays to get caught up or prepare for the week ahead, explaining all the different ways to make use of the SMART Board. One of the first uses Paul had discovered was how to access YouTube videos or news broadcasts that would help the students connect and discuss certain issues that led to political policies in Canada.

  As he pulled into his parking place at home, Noah smiled at the memory of how Paul had come to him at the end of one particular school day, his smile broad and his disposition bubbly, and recounted how all of the students had been engaged and focused on the issues that had been raised during one YouTube video. Noah was experienced enough to know what that kind of moment felt like, and still young enough to think that the educational system in Alberta hadn’t been too irreversibly damaged.

  He changed quickly, grabbed his keys again, and headed to the elevator, wondering how long the damned thing would be working this time and when, exactly, he’d be back to climbing up and down twenty flights of stairs. He reminded himself again about being a little more proactive about finding his own home, or at the very least finding an apartment that was better than the one he was currently renting. He thought of the article he’d read about a new development of lofts going up closer to downtown and tried to remember the name of the developer.

  He’d given up on remembering the name as he found his way to Sara’s and pulled into the parking lot, spotting Paul’s blue pickup almost immediately. He parked beside it and turned off the engine, exiting the vehicle and pocketing his keys. When he entered the dimly lit foyer, he spotted Paul sitting on one of the benches near the entrance.

  “Just waiting for you,” Paul said by way of explanation. “Do you have a preference for booth or table?”

  Noah shook his head and smiled as Paul turned to the hostess and requested a booth. I wonder if he read my mind, Noah wondered, his mind automatically thinking about how much more private a booth would be than a table. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt like he was being courted, pursued, almost.

  “What’s that sly smile for?”

  Noah looked up and saw Paul smiling. My God, this man is so handsome. Noah tried to force the smile off his face and shook his head. “Nothing. I didn’t realize I was smiling. Probably just glad to be out of that building.” Noah picked up one of the menus that the hostess had laid on the table. “Sometimes it feels like I live at that school.”

  “I know the feeling,” Paul said, commiserating. “What do you do when you’re not in school, then?”

  Noah wasn’t sure if he would be able to reveal all of the details of his life outside of school, since most straight men didn’t understand how any man could put on women’s clothing and get up in front of a nightclub full of people. It was a misunderstood art form as far as Noah was concerned. There was something completely liberating about changing your entire identity and allowing yourself to just be that person for a little while. Of course, it had been Aiden who had created the personas while Noah went along with it all, his only job being to sing live. After realizing he’d probably taken a little too long to answer, Noah finally shrugged and said, “A little bit of everything, I guess. I like swimming, photography… you know, the same stuff that most people like to do.”

  “Yeah, me too, I guess.” Paul looked down at his menu and studied it for a moment. “I’ve only been here once, but the calamari is really good. Do you eat seafood?”

  “Who doesn’t?”

  “Did you want to get a couple of appetizers and share, or…?”

  Noah nodded and watched as Paul closed his menu and took a long swallow from his water glass. “Anything look good for an entrée?”

  “I think I’ll just have the chicken Caesar.”

  “So that’s how you manage to stay so fit,” Paul said as he leaned back and patted his stomach. “I should probably start watching that too.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with your weight,” Noah protested, and he took up his own water glass.

  “Thanks, but I’m not as fit as I used to be.” Paul took Noah’s menu and put it on top of his, pushing both to the side of the table. “Do you ever stay and use the fitness room at the school?”

  “Not really,” Noah said, shaking his head. “I have my own little workout area in the second bedroom of my apartment.”

  “Must be nice. Do you work out in the morning or the afternoon?”

  “Usually in the evenings, a couple of hours after dinner.” Noah found this line of questioning a little bizarre, but he didn’t really have any other topics coming to mind.

  “Do you prefer working out alone?”

  Noah looked up and noticed—perhaps for the first time—how Paul was wrapping the napkin around one hand and then unfurling it, just to repeat the process over the other hand. It seemed to be similar to the man’s habit of circling his hands one over the other, but with fabric. Paul glanced at him, and then Noah’s confused mind saw everything quite clearly. Paul was looking for a workout buddy. “It doesn’t really matter to me. If you’re looking for someone to keep you motivated, I guess I could work out at the school.”

  “That would be great,” Paul said, and Noah noticed the napkin being returned to Paul’s lap. “If I don’t have someone there to keep me going, I tend to quit and go home and drink beer and watch football… or hockey… or… anything, really.”

  Noah laughed as the waitress approached the table to take their orders. Noah wasn’t too sure if this show of self-deprecation was an act or not, but at least Noah would get a look at Paul’s considerable shoulders and chest and that incredible ass. He’d probably be sore from lifting more weight than he was used to—he wasn’t about to be so stupid as to let Paul think he was some sort of weakling—but as he sat across from this man, Noah figured that a few weeks’ worth of sore muscles would be fully paid back by getting to spend so much time with Paul.

  Chapter Four

  “SWEETUMS?”

  Noah looked over and saw Aiden staring again. “What?”

  Aiden rolled his eyes and glared. “Could you at least pretend to listen to me when I’m talking to you? Honestly, you’re acting more vacuous than usual. Stop it.”

  “I’m tired,” Noah said as he tried to remember what they’d been talking about. “I didn’t sleep well last night.” Noah knew there was absolutely no way he would be able to tell his best friend that he was preoccupied with Paul—again. Aiden would skin him alive and then probably create cushions out of the skin, a reminder to Noah how he’d been nothing more than a fuck trophy to Paul all along.

  And, of course, Noah wasn’t really sure he wanted to have to try to explain that he still thought that Aiden was wrong. He’s just confused. Maybe I’m the person who can help him come out. Deep down, Noah knew that Paul would never change, but he wasn’t really listening to that voice lately; he preferred to listen to the one that kept telling him that Paul was back in his life.

  “You need to get laid,” Aiden announced, completely oblivious to the fact that Noah was thinking the same thing and had spent the better part of his sleepless night remembering when he and Paul had fucked like bunny rabbits. “Why don’t we go to the club?” Aiden’s voice became low and husky. “Maybe Oscar will be there.”

  Noah turned his head and studied his friend through half-closed eyes, his lack of amusement quite clear. “Oscar and I barely know each other, and that’s the way I like it.”

  “Honestly, Noah,” Aiden said as he grabbed his mug and headed to the kitchen to make more tea. “How will you ever get over that sociopathic breeder unless you learn to appreciate what else is out there?”

  “Paul is not sociopathic.” He’s just confused, Noah was thinking when he heard the kn
ock at the door. He rose from the sofa and turned just in time to see Aiden heading to open the door. Noah ran to avoid certain catastrophe. He’d been so engrossed in his own thoughts about his ex-lover reentering his life that he’d not once considered that having Paul living down the hall meant that Aiden and Paul would eventually cross paths again. Oil and water did not even come close to explaining the fracas that always seemed to be the result of those two men being in the same room.

  “I’ll get it,” Noah said, his smile a little too exaggerated. “Why don’t you go into the spare bedroom and look through those outfits?”

  “Sweetie,” Aiden said as he embraced Noah and kissed him on the cheek. “You do have someone.” Aiden pulled back a little to look at Noah, his hands moving to squeeze Noah’s upper arms. “Say no more. I will away and allow you time to chitty-chat with the new beau.” As he walked toward the spare bedroom, Aiden turned and said, “But if I find out that this has been going on for more than three weeks and I haven’t yet had the courtesy of an introduction, I shall be quite vexed.” Aiden wagged a finger at Noah and disappeared around the corner.

  When he was certain that Aiden was out of the line of sight, Noah pulled the door open and stepped out into the hall, noticing right away that Paul was standing away from the peephole, off to the side, practically plastered against the wall beside the door to Noah’s loft. Noah raised an eyebrow.