5. Noah

Noah

Chapter five

Personal Itinerary: Main Dining Hall 7:00 PM

Why the hell is Dylan looking at me like a starving man in a buffet? His hazel eyes are intense and completely focused on me.

"Wanna grab a drink with me before dinner?"

My gaze bounces around, trying to spot who Dylan's talking to, only to realize we're alone. Well, as alone as anyone can get with a person when surrounded by people celebrating on a cruise ship. "Me?" I squeak.

Dylan gives me a crooked smile that only makes him even more attractive. "Of course. Don't leave a guy hanging. I've been dying to talk to you since we ran into each other at the airport."

Right. The talk. It isn't like me to get this nervous. Through my job, I've interviewed numerous celebrities over the last few months. Yet, the idea of talking to my best friend's older brother has me acting like a bumbling toddler.

I open my mouth to refuse, but—why?

"Grab a drink with me." This time it's more of a statement rather than a question. And why does the command light me up inside?

Straightening my shoulders, I gather all my confidence and sass, then I dish it out. "Alright," I drawl. "But if you're going to get me a drink, you're gonna do it right. Let's go to the White Bar."

"Of course," he says, laughter in his eyes. "Lead the way, gorgeous."

I stumble. Like, legit stumble over my own two feet. What the fuck? Is Dylan flirting? With me? Narrowing my eyes at Dylan, I tilt my head and study him for a moment. Maybe it's a word that just slips out. Like when people call other people hon or love.

I waggle a finger at him. "No flirting, sir. Not until you get a few drinks in me." There. See? I can be playful, too.

He places his hand over his heart. "I'll try my best."

The White Bar isn't far, and luckily it's still on the same deck. Unfortunately, thanks to the crowds of people we need to weave around, it takes longer than I expected. I can feel Dylan's eyes on me the whole time. But just to be sure, I make sure to sashay my hips, giving my best asset some extra sway.

"Where the hell is this place?" he asks, several minutes into our trek. "We've walked past at least three bars and a few restaurants."

His voice has that usual deep, sultry tone to it, and even though he's spent years perfecting his panty-dropping rumble, there's something oddly familiar about it. So familiar I stop walking and think, trying to replay the inflection in my mind.

"What's wrong, darlin'? Did you need something?" The concern in his voice is sweet, but that's not what has me freezing in place.

That voice! I know that voice! And just like that, I'm sporting a half chub. Holy shit. He sounds exactly like my favorite narrator. The very narrator that was just reading one of the steamiest sex scenes I've ever heard.

Since I had five hours to kill on the plane earlier, I downloaded the next Eliott Monroe book that came out several months ago. Eliott has recently teamed up with Guy Emerge. And let me tell you, Guy's voice is hotter than sin. But there's no fucking way Dylan and Guy are the same person. Right?

"Sorry about that. I thought I stepped in something," I lie. Pulling out my phone, I double check the ship's map. Dylan peers around me and at my screen. He leans in so close that his woodsy scent mixes with the ocean brine. The scent is subtle yet intoxicating.

"Mmm."

"Let's go, we're almost there." Without thinking, I reach for Dylan's hand and continue to lead the way. My thoughts are still preoccupied by the audiobook I listened to on the plane and how funny it would be to see Dylan read a steamy gay romance.

This morning, I thought it would be fitting to listen to a Daddy audiobook on the way to a kinky cruise. Maybe even give me some insight on what I want from this trip. And it worked. I eye Dylan… a little too well.

A giggle bubbles out of my throat. Dylan might be hot, but I can't really imagine him as a real life Daddy. Random images of me bent over his knee as he spanks me only makes my downstairs situation worse. Okay, maybe I can imagine Dylan as a Daddy.

I silently debate with myself the whole time it takes for me to walk to the restaurant. Seeing Dylan for the first time in a year seems to have scrambled my brain. For my own sanity, I really need to stop thinking of Dylan as a potential option.

Besides occasionally running into each other in the hallway, chances of seeing each other around the ship were probably slim to none. There are over three thousand people on this cruise, and this ship is practically its own little city. Not to mention, what were the chances that we actually shared kinks?

I peek another glance over my shoulder. Dylan's gaze is completely focused on my ass, but instead of denying it, he winks.

That's when I notice I'm still holding his hand.

Yanking my hand back, I point at the big sign that's lit up ahead. "We're here."

We make our way to the White Bar's entrance, a gorgeous modern archway decorated with white roses.

Since most of the people are outside dancing and mingling, the bar isn't crowded. "Holy crap. I think everyone is still at the Sail Away party, because I heard there's usually a long wait. It's supposed to be almost impossible to get seats here."

"Good. Let's enjoy ourselves then."

I bite back a smile as we walk over to the bar and Dylan holds up two fingers, effectively flagging down the bartender.

"What will you have?"

"A whiskey, please." I slide onto the seat next to him and he orders one for each of us.

Once we have our drinks, he slides mine over to me and holds up his glass. "To Jules and Cal."

"To Jules and Cal." I clink my glass with his and sip. The smokey, slightly sweet liquid warms me. "To my kinky best friend, for inviting us on this adventure with them."

"Yeah," Dylan chuckles. "I was a little worried he might get some side eye for inviting his brother."

"Nah. You're good. There's so many events, parties, and gatherings. I doubt you two would run into each other much. Unless you plan on attending a pet play mosh?"

"I'm not opposed to it, but I probably won't be at any pet play events." He smiles into his glass and arches a brow my way.

"Me either." I stay vague on purpose, hoping he'll tell me where he will be.

"Mind if I ask what your kink is? I don't think that's too rude since there's a chance we could run into each other, right?"

"Only if you tell me your kink first," I tease, half tempted to slide my foot up his muscular calf. But considering I still don't know how into men Dylan really is, I don't want to experience that level of rejection.

Better to wait and see if he offers that information up. I've had plenty of friends who had a ‘one off' with a guy, only for them to say that they're still straight. Who am I to argue? Plus, some don't understand that while a person might be sexually attracted to one gender, it doesn't mean they are also romantically attracted to that same gender. I want both. I want it all.

"How about this," Dylan offers. "Why don't we play a game? You take a good look at me and tell me what you think my kink is."

I grin. "Don't you know that saying? ‘It's always the innocent ones.' Or something like that."

"And do you think I'm innocent, Noah?"

"Oh, hell no." I snort. "Okay, I'll have a go at it."

My gaze roams over his body as he sits back on his stool. I let myself linger, enjoying this gift Dylan unknowingly gave me. Taking my time, I study his broad shoulders and his narrow hips. His long legs are stretched out in front of him, his ankles crossed. He's so handsome, it's criminal. He isn't perfect, with a nose that's a little too large and slightly crooked, as if it's been broken at one point. But paired with those full lips, that square jaw, and his thick blond curls? He's my kryptonite.

"Fuck, Noah," he says, voice strained. "You're staring."

That snaps me out of my trance.

"Trust me, it's a good thing." I keep my tone light and tap on my chin. "Let's see. You have this commanding air about you. Definitely more dominant. Probably the one in charge."

His smile returns. "Go on."

"Yeah, I can't imagine you submitting to anyone. You scream top all the way," I say, feeling bold.

His lips spread into a wide smile. "Anything else?" He lifts his glass to his lips.

I tap my chin again. "It would be kind of hot if you were a dom into humiliation kink."

Dylan chokes on his drink. "Okay. Yeah, I've always thought the idea of humiliation and degradation is hot. Especially in the romance books I've read. But I could never. Unless, of course, I was already in love with my partner and they insisted. But I don't think I could purposely put my submissive down. It would probably hurt me more than them. Like I said, hot in a book, or maybe hot to witness in a scene, but not my thing."

I blink. "Okay, that was a lot of information." And I totally agree, but did Dylan just admit to reading romance books? Kinky romance books? I also didn't miss the fact he didn't use specific pronouns. I think back over his words again and my heart starts pounding.

"You were right to say I'm dominant. I'll give you a hint, though. I'm a caregiver at heart, and I love spoiling my subs."

"Are you a Daddy?" I whisper, as if afraid saying it any louder will make a difference.

"I am."

"Oh." I down the rest of my drink and avoid his eyes. Deep down, I think I always knew he was a Daddy, but denial is easier to handle. I gesture to the bartender. "Can I get another?"

Dylan gives me a concerned look. "Don't forget, we're going to meet Jules for dinner and drinks soon."

My eyes snap to his. Yup. Definitely a caregiver. I almost laugh. How could I be so blind? "I'll be fine, Daddy," I say, my tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Noah," he warns. "Don't tease me."

"I'm sorry." The bartender passes me my whiskey and I down it in one go. It's expensive and should have been savored, but I feel like a chasm has opened up in my heart. My feelings for Dylan have only grown throughout the years, but there were only three things holding me back from truly letting my heart fall for him. He's my best friend's older brother, he's straight, and I've been holding out hope for a Daddy.

Now though? He's a Daddy, check. He might not be so straight, check. And now that Jules is in love, he's told me multiple times he wants his two favorite people to find love. His brother and me. Would he be okay with the two of us dating? I feel like he would.

Fuck. Suddenly Dylan isn't looking so off limits, and I don't know what to do with that.

"Anyway, what did you want to talk to me about?" I wince at my harsh tone.

Dylan studies me for a moment, probably thinking I'm crazy for such an abrupt change of subject.

After an awkward pause, he lets out a sigh. "Like I mentioned this morning, I recently moved to Olivia Cove. I have a roommate that I've recently grown close with, and I have Jules, and I guess, by default, Cal. But that's it. I know things got a little awkward between us last year and I wanted to clear the air. I want you in my life."

"Right. As your friend." Did I say the word friend like it's dirty?

"You're more than just a friend to me, Noah."

My eyes meet his. "More?"

"Of course, always more. You're family."

And just like that, my hopes are squashed. I open my mouth to say something, anything, but I'm interrupted by the alarm ringing on Dylan's phone. He swipes it open and eyes it. "We gotta get going. Jules and Cal's dinner is in twenty minutes, and with the way the crowd is outside, who knows how long it will take to get to the main dining hall?"

I sigh, both upset and relieved about being interrupted. "Too bad it isn't here. I heard their food is to die for."

Dylan smiles at me again. It's not as wide as it was before when we were joking around, but it's just as breathtaking. "It's settled then. We need to get dinner here. Together," he says the last word as he stands. "Excuse me for a moment. I'm going to run to the restroom, then pay."

"You sure? I can chip in my—"

He holds up a hand. "Nonsense. Didn't you say if I was going to get you a drink I had to do it right?"

I grin and nod.

"Good." Dylan walks past my chair, stealing a touch as his fingers lightly graze my arm and trailing it toward my wrist.

I'm smiling after his disappearing form, lost in thought, when someone steps up next to me. "Noah? Is that you?"

My blood runs cold and my stomach clenches. Oh god. It's a voice I unfortunately don't think I'll ever forget. My ex is standing there in blue jeans and a red-and-white striped shirt. "Max?"

Taking that as an invitation, he steps in closer, filling my entire field of vision. "I thought that was you." His signature cologne slams into me and frays my senses. It's nothing like Dylan's subtle, woodsy scent. This is thick in the air, and a little too strong, causing my alcohol filled stomach to slosh.

He stares at me expectantly. Expecting what? I have no fucking idea. He cheated on me; he shouldn't be expecting anything. Despite his disgusting cologne and slimy smirk, he looks good. He's a little tanner than when I last saw him. Bulkier too, as if he's hired a trainer to help him tone his muscles.

"I can't believe you're here," he says.

Me? He has some audacity showing up on this cruise when I was the one who planned out every little detail.

"And look at this." He waves a hand at my outfit. "You're all alone, and looking absolutely delicious. Must be my lucky day. We get one last hook up."

My mouth falls open. "Excuse me?"

"I know you miss me, baby." He leans in close. The scent of alcohol is strong on his rancid breath. Memories of him drunk assault my brain. How did I ever stay with this guy?

I jolt back in my seat, feeling trapped. I don't want to leave Dylan without a word, but I need to get away from my creepy ex.