Page 85 of His Stepdad Wears Leather

“He only wanted to protect me. I’ve been sleeping in the guest room,” Noah whispered. It was a bit of a lie. There had beenthatone night. The one Brody declared was their last. Noah hadn’t wanted to believe it would be, but it seemed he might be wrong.

His mother and Geena remained silent a moment.

“It’s over?” Geena asked.

Noah cringed. “Honestly? I don’t want it to be. But I don’t want to get in between him and his son. If you let him see Parker again—I’ll come home with you.”

His mother and Geena glanced at one another, no words exchanged.

“He can stop by the house to see his son. We’ll be there to supervise,” Geena replied.

Noah frowned. “You act like he’s some criminal.”

“Hedidsleep with one of my sons,” his mother replied.

“Seriously?” came from behind Noah. He turned to see Brody there. “Stacey, Parker’s my son. Noah isnot.I can’t believe you’d insinuate I’d do anything to Parker.”

“I have no idea who you are anymore,” his mother said to Brody.

Brody glared. “You now sound like Walt. It’s disgusting.”

His mother cringed. “He’s barely legal, Brody. You’re nearly forty.”

“Which isn’t a crime,” Brody replied. “What about Harry and Red? There’s nearly a thirty-year age difference between them and you don’t blink an eye about inviting them to your dinner table. Why is this so much different?”

“Harry is thirty-five and Red is sixty-something,” Geena said. “They’re both adults.”

“Harry was a nineteen-year-old intern at Red’s office when they met,” Brody barked. “Were you aware of that? The fact you met themafterthey’d been together for over a decade doesn’t change the gap. It does illustrate your hypocrisy,” Brody argued. “If you accept them, you can accept this.”

“Noah is my son,” Stacey said. “This isdifferent.”

“Would I have chosen this had I known who he was? No. But it happened, Stace. We can’t unring that bell. You’re aware that I haven’t wanted to be with someone else in a long, long time, and I don’t understand this connection Noah and I have, but it’s there. We enjoy one another’s company. Both of us realize it might not last, but then we might have a chance at what Harry and Red have. Who knows?”

Noah leaned into Brody. “I enjoy being with him, too.” He turned to capture Brody’s gaze. “But I didn’t come here to destroy a family. I wanted to find one. I can’t be the reason Parker doesn’t have a dad. I understand what it feels like to lose a parent.” He stepped away. “I want Parker to have what I didn’t.”

Brody eyed Noah, sorrow in his expression. He closed his eyes and turned his face.

Noah faced his mother and Geena. Tears burned the backs of his eyes. “If the offer of a bedroom is still available, I would kindly accept.” No, he didn’t want to go.

But he had to… for Brody and Parker’s sake.

* * *

Days passed. Noah spent them inside his mother and Geena’s home, eyeing his father’s SUV still parked down the street. The protective order? It meant very little. The one time he’d ventured outside, they’d approached him and forced him back inside. By the time the cops arrived, they were back in their vehicle, claiming they’d never left. As they were exactly five-hundred feet away, the police—who clearly seemed to realize his parents were harassing him—could do nothing. Noah had to hide inside to prevent them from snatching him on the street.

His mother’s home had become a new prison.

He spent time playing video games with Parker, who kicked his ass repeatedly. He slept. He attempted to read from his mother’s vast collection of books. But mostly, he longed to see Brody again.

A knock came to his bedroom door one Saturday morning. His mother opened the door and peeked in. “We’re having a dinner party tonight. I want some of my friends to meet you.”

“Okay,” Noah said, lowering the book he’d been reading.

She walked over and took a seat on the floor beside him. After lifting the book to see what he was reading, she glanced over at him. “I hate seeing you so unhappy here.”

Noah couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t tell her what would make him happy. “It’s not easy when I’m basically a prisoner.” He eyed his mother. “That’s not your fault.”

“Maybe it’s a little of my fault. I forced you to come home, when I knew what was waiting outside for you. At least you were safer with…him.” She sighed. “But you belong here. With us.”

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