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I scowl, jaw flexing. The smell of marijuana swirls in the air, so fucking potent. It would have stunk up the bus for days, and Justice would have been enraged that his daughter had to smell it.
It wouldn’t have stopped me from getting high, but Tinsley would have felt guilty.
“You’re more important than I am. Nobody would give a fuck if I ruined my body with any number of drugs on the planet.”
She slaps my arm and snags the joint from me. With an icy glare, she takes a puff and blows the smoke out in a perfect O.
“You’re a jackass, Noah.”
I wait for her to take a second inhale and then take the joint back. “I know.” Another puff, and I take a step closer to her, my shoulder pressing against hers.
She sighs, turning into my body. Her arms come around my hips, hands locked and resting at the bottom of my back. I shudder, but she doesn’t say anything.
To her, this is friendly. This is how best friends act.
To me, her touch threatens to undo every lock on the chains keeping me from devouring her.
“You know therearepeople who give a shit about you, even when you try like hell to push them all away. Your siblings, Reggie, your parents.Me.”
I don’t know what to say, so I keep quiet. My arms shake as I set them on her shoulders, pulling her against my chest, just . . . holding her. I take advantage of the moment and rest my chin on her head.Just for a minute, I warn myself.
The joint burns and burns, ashes falling to the ground behind her, and once it dies, I drop it to the pavement.
Minutes pass with her in my arms, but I don’t let go.
13
TINSLEY
WatchingNoah perform is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. As he comes to the end of his final rehearsal before the show tonight, he’s a sight to behold.
He doesn’t need to dance all over the stage to command it. The sheer power in his voice and the confidence radiating from every line of his body as he plays his guitar is impossible not to recognize. Performing is what he was born to do. Even if he doesn’t believe it.
After everything that Oakley has given Noah a hard time about, at least he was right about the music. It would have been a waste of Noah’s talent not to pursue this opportunity.
I’m torn from my thoughts when someone settles beside me. They keep a safe amount of distance, and when I smell the familiar scent of pine, I smile, knowing who it is.
“He’s magic,” Reggie says, almost in awe. I wouldn’t blame him if he was.
“He is. I haven’t seen him perform in a few weeks, and watching him now makes me wish I had managed to find the time to when we were home.”
I stomp down the brief swell of guilt that tries to sweep me under. We’ve both been swamped, and Noah would never fault me for putting my career at the top of my priority list. He’d most likely be pissed at me for thinking that way.
“He gets better every time I see him. I’m glad Garrison hasn’t taken that passion from him.”
I begin to laugh, but after only a second, it gets stuck in my throat. Noah’s responsible for the ugly cough that follows as he moves his guitar to rest against his back and tugs the hem of his T-shirt up to wipe his forehead, exposing the hard, rippling slab of muscles beneath. My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth as I gawk at him. Even from backstage, I can see the definition of the abs that were definitely not there the last time we trained together.
Reggie says something, but I can’t distinguish exactly what over the sound of the thump in my ears. I’m suddenly hot, my tank top sticking to my neck, so tight it feels suffocating. Confusion muddles my thoughts. I should look away. It’s not the first time I’ve seen Noah’s bare chest—far from it—but for some ungodly reason, it’s different this time. And I’m not talking about the new muscles. It’s me. I feel different, and I can’t pinpoint why or exactly how. Just that I am.
In all honesty, I’m probably just horny. It’s been, well,foreversince I’ve had sex. Long before Noah moved to Toronto, and that’s a fact. The poor guy has just been subjected to my very inappropriate staring because he’s hot and sweaty and muscly and I’m sex deprived.
This time, the guilt that comes is too much to ignore. It nips at me, making it easier to finally look away from him as my stomach turns over.
I partially blame the way he accidentally stroked behind my knee yesterday for this new train of thought. I’m far too sensitive there, and if I hadn’t reached for a blunt to distract myself before he moved his finger a second time, I worry what I would have done in my horned-up state.
Ugh.He can never learn about this.
A large hand darts out in front of me, two fingers snapping just inches from my nose. I blink rapidly and focus on Reggie. The damn guy is smirking at me, a knowing glint in his eyes that deepens the frustration in mine.
