One minute he and Noah were making a pact that they would survive the trip without jumping one another, and the next minute Noah was kissing him. Worst part, Dare wanted Noah to kiss him again. And again. And… Damn it. It was all he could fucking think about. Except hooking up wouldn’t be good for either of them, because once they left this ship, it wasn’t like Dare would see Noah again. They’d built lives for themselves, and although Dare didn’t know much about Noah, other than he’d become a firefighter, he had to assume that Noah had a full life—one that didn’t include Dare in it. And based on the way Noah had dodged his question earlier, Noah had no intention of allowing Dare to be part of it, either. Not that he wanted to be. Damn, and there he went lying again. When his stomach growled for the twentieth time, he managed to push himself up off the bed, pull a pair of shorts and a T-shirt out of his suitcase, and get dressed.
