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“I may be old, but I’m not blind, son.”
Everyone else would have missed the pain that ever so slightly cuts through Noah’s blank stare at the term of endearment, but I don’t. It screams at me. My heart gives a harsh tug in response.I’m sorry.
On instinct, I inch closer to him. His fingers are tense, curled into fists when I touch them. As I gently start to uncurl them, he releases a shuddered breath. They start to shake when I link them through mine, from pain or anger, I’m not sure.
Reggie doesn’t pay much mind to Noah’s lack of reply. He carries on as if he hadn’t kept quiet.
“I know you must want to head back to the bus for a couple hours before the show, but I wanted to talk to you first. Well, apologize, really.”
Tipping my head back, I stare up at Noah. “Should I go? I can find something to busy myself with until you’re done.”
He squeezes my hand, scowl deepening. “No.”
“Okay.” I squeeze it back.
“Garrison has been—” Reggie starts before Noah cuts him off.
“Stop. Don’t apologize for him. I don’t want it.”
The anger in his words is powerful. It cuts through the air, chilling it.
Reggie flinches, looking stricken. “It’s the right thing to do. It’s not fair for him to punish you because . . .”
Because of me, he doesn’t say. Garrison’s jealousy of the relationship Noah has with Reggie is palpable. It’s leading them all down a terrible road.
My chest begins to ache. I want to fix this. Fix all of it. Noah and Oakley, Noah and Garrison, Garrison and Reggie. Fuck. Everything has gone to shit the past few months. It’s becoming too heavy of a load to carry around—for everyone.
Isn’t there some sort of intervention for family drama? One of those would be very handy right about now.
Noah tongues his cheek. “I don’t care about Garrison.”
“But I do. I care for the both of you,” Reggie pushes. I want to warn him to stop, but he continues before I get the chance. “I will be having a talk with him. We don’t do harm to our artists. He knows better, regardless of who you are.”
“Do not speak to him on my behalf. I amnotyour responsibility. You’re not my father.Stoptrying to take care of me,” Noah growls before ripping his hand free and storming off.
I close my eyes when they start to water, listening to the receding sound of his footsteps. Inhaling a long, tired breath, I look at Reggie. He looks hurt, guilty. Torn.
“That didn’t go how I wanted it to,” he breathes out.
“Noah . . . he . . .” I groan, scratching the back of my head. “He’ll come around. He doesn’t know how to accept help from people.”
Reggie’s smile is weak. “I just want to care for him. He deserves to succeed. With or without Swift Edge.”
I caress his arm, giving it a soft squeeze. “He knows that. Trust me. Just give him some more time to accept that. You have to prove you’re not going to disappear on him if he lets you in.”
“I will. You can trust me on that.”
With a growing appreciation for this man, I kiss his cheek and say, “I do. But if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go make sure he’s okay. Just don’t give up on him, okay?”
He nods, determination in his stare. “I won’t.”
14
TINSLEY
To no one’s surprise,Noah didn’t want to talk. He shut down, and I let him walk away to cool down on his own. That’s just how he is. When he’s pushed too far, he recoils like a wounded animal, and not even I can soothe him.
He always comes back, though. Whether that’s an hour later or after days of regrouping, when I’ve missed him and worried too much to let him continue to wallow. Tonight, he forced himself out of his shell quickly. There was a show to play, after all.
