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Of course, I hadn't been very verbal with my own intentions. I barely knew them. Or, maybe I did, but sweet mother of mercy, I had a heart to protect. Emma had managed to put a dent in it, but it was nothing in comparison to what Julian could do.
His happiness came before mine, though.
That much was clear to me now.
Unfortunately, I'd been crap at showing Julian I gave a fuck. I hadn't even called around and asked my friends if they knew where he was. Mostly because I'd assumed he'd go to Nicky, but also 'cause I didn't want them to know I didn't have it all together.
"Are we done hugging?" he muttered.
"No." I hugged him harder because of that. "Not until you tell me how you're doing. Give me something, Julian."
He shuddered a breath, and I could tell from his posture that he didn't have much fight left.
"I don't know what to say." His hands came to rest carefully along my sides, just above my belt. "I don't feel very good—"
"Try again, baby," I murmured. I hadn't meant to cut him off, but I wanted honesty.
He paused, struggling, then admitted defeat. "Everything sucks. Okay?"
It wasn't okay, but now I had something to go on. "Is it the anniversary?"
Painful reminder, though I had expected it to affect me more than it did. There was going to be a moment of silence at the airports in both Philly and Orlando for the lives that had been lost, and I had asked Julian weeks ago if he wanted to go. But we were on the same page. We were moving on, and we were remembering our family our way—privately.
Regardless, I had other worries that weighed heavier. Namely, the one I couldn’t let go of. Literally.
"Some, yes." Slowly, his arms circled me until he clasped his hands at my lower back. "I want to tell you the rest, Noah, but it scares the crap out of me. I don't want you to hate me."
"Hey." I moved my hands to cup his cheeks so he'd look up at me. The sight of his eyes brimming with unshed tears fucking tore at me. "I could never hate you."
He swallowed hard and averted his gaze. "I'm tired. I'm so damn tired."
"Let's get you some rest, then." I pressed my lips to his forehead, fucking relieved to have him near. Felt like that was a goddamn running theme. The relief. "What does Kendall say?"
"That I should talk to you."
Good. That was good. "We'll get there." I brushed my thumbs over the shadows under his eyes. "No more running away, though."
He cringed. "That makes me sound childish. I'm sorry."
I shrugged and draped an arm around his shoulders. "We all cope differently, yeah? It ain't exactly mature to drown your miseries in a bottle of whiskey either, but I'm a champ at it." I grinned faintly and started ushering him out of the alley. "There's one thing you and I have in common when we're immature dicks, though."
"What's that?"
"We evidently stop showering," I replied wryly.
"Shit, I'm a mess." He made a face, visibly embarrassed. "I can't say I feel like going back into the bar."
I laughed quietly. "Don't worry, I'm taking you home."
That gave him a pause. "Blue is at the beach house. And my luggage."
"We'll get her and your stuff before we go to the airport. Deal?"
"I suppose she can survive one night without me."Chapter 16
The plane was fucking huge, and there was even a part in the back where kids could nap. Which the castmembers who traveled with their children appreciated.
So did I. Saved me from hearing their sleepy whines. God knew I loved Kayden and Ivy, but I also loved handing the runts over when they got fussy.
I stayed in the front with Tennyson, Lucia, Julian, and a few others who were focusing on work during the flight. Sophie and Brooklyn were mingling with the cast and being all mommylike, and for a moment, I envied the actors. They only worked when the camera was on, aside from learning lines and characters.
Then I remembered how much I loved this, and it was all good again. But fuck, if I'd ever pull a Tennyson and try my hand at being a creative producer. The man was drowning in paperwork. Legal shit, permits, deadlines, conference calls, and puzzling everything together.
"Refill my coffee, will ya?" I extended my cup to Julian, who sat next to me with his laptop.
"But I'm—" He stopped there. I knew he was busy with the music software he had up, but we were on our way to Paris now. He was my PA. He sighed and got up. "Yes, sir."
I stifled a grin and got back to transferring notes from my pad to my own laptop.
"You're having way too much fun with that, Noah." Tennyson occupied one of the four seats across the aisle, documents spread out on the remaining seats as well as on the table in the middle. "He's on the payroll as a songwriter now, not a PA."
