Page 18 of Chasing Infinity

When they speak of my mother’s character and her devotion to her passions, he dramatically lifts his hand to wipe away an invisible tear.

I need to get out of this church and away from him. I need to get a grip before I do anything stupid. With that in mind, as soon as the service concludes, I locate the one person in this town who I can trust to keep me in line when I feel like I’m out of control.

Addison is standing with Charlie in the entryway to the church. She’s wearing a black long-sleeved dress that swoops across her chest in a respectable but flattering style, covering her arms all the way down to her wrists. Her honey-brown hair falls in soft layers of curls around her frame, and they bounce lightly as she turns and looks at me. I swallow thickly as I walk up to her, the weight of the situation weighing heavily on my shoulders.

She gives me a tender smile as I walk up to her, but I don’t waste time with formalities. “Parks, can I ride with you?” I ask her bluntly. “To the gravesite.”

Addison’s eyebrows raise a fraction, not expecting my question, but she nods her affirmation. “Of course, you can, but don’t you want to ride with—”

“No. I can’t be near him right now.”

“I understand,” she replies, turning to Charlie standing by her side. “Do you think you can get Eli to go with you?”

“No problem,” Charlie tells her with a nod of his head and eyeballs me warily. “You doing okay, man?”

“I’ll be honest, Sully, I don’t really have the capability of pretending to be your friend right now,” I tell him tersely. Charlie has the decency to look amused. “I’m about two more fake shows of grief away from strangling my father, and I need to get out of here.”

“Let’s go then,” Parks says abruptly. “I’ll see you guys there. Come on, Noah.”

She reaches for my hand, and I take it gratefully, a sense of relief flooding through me at her touch, washing away my spiking irritation. I follow her as she leads me to her car, a black midsize SUV.

Parks unlocks the car and releases my hand, striding to her side and hopping into the driver’s seat. I follow suit, sliding in and settling into my own seat. My head falls back against the headrest, and I close my eyes, taking a few long deep breaths.

Thankfully, Addison doesn’t say much right away, giving me a chance to collect myself before she bombards me with the questions. I let the movement of the car lull all the edges of my temper as we drive. I can smell her perfume—a blend of lavender and vanilla—which swirls around me as I sit there. The fragrance is warm and smooth but not too overpowering in the small cabin of the car. It’s Addison, and it’s comforting to me.

When at last, it appears she’s had enough of the silence, she glances over at me. We’re sitting at a red light, not moving. I roll my head on the seat towards her to meet her eyes. She’s studying me as if trying to solve a tricky puzzle. It’s an expression on her that I know well, and I brace myself for the interrogation that’s likely to happen.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asks me, simply.

I turn my head to look out the windshield at the passing scenery when the light turns green. “I don’t know if there is really anything to talk about. Declan is who he is. There’s no changing that. He snags any opportunity he can find to make things about him.”

“Still, though, I know it must be hard for you. Trust me, I know. And to watch him take something special for your mom and turn the attention onto himself?” Addison questions softly. Her hands tighten on the steering wheel. “It doesn’t excuse him to act that way just because you’re used to his behavior.”

“I suppose you’re right,” I mumble. “He can’t seem to help himself. He always has to be the star of the show.”

“I’m sorry, Noah.” I turn and look at Parks again when she apologizes. She looks at me briefly before securing her eyes back on the road. “That you have to deal with him. You deserve better.”

“Maybe, but it’s all I’ve known,” I snicker humorlessly. “Turns out your observation of my father all those years ago still rings true—he’s not a very nice man.”

Addison gives a single laugh, not about what I said but recalling the conversation that changed our entire dynamic. A similar moment to now, me regaling how awful my father is, dealing with the aftermath, and Addison offering her strength in silent support. I couldn’t see it then, but Addison is much like my mother in that sense. She always seems to know the right things to say at the right moments. It’s a skill that makes her invaluable to have around in moments of crisis.

“I didn’t want to be right about him, you know,” she whispers so softly I almost miss it.

“You’re always right. One of the most annoying things about you,” I say as I look at her fondly and smirk.

She rolls her eyes at me but offers a kind smile. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“You’re doing it, Parks,” I tell her. “I don’t think I could’ve made it through this day if you weren’t here.”

I can see my words affect her as soon as she puts the car in park at the cemetery and turns her body to face mine. She reaches to take my hand, twining our fingers together. Her hand feels warm and comforting as if she’s sending me strength through our connection. Her hazel eyes glitter and I wonder if she can feel it too.

“There is nowhere I’d rather be today, Noah.”

I trace her delicate features with my gaze as she holds my hand tightly in her own. I take in her round eyes as they observe me, the sharp angle of her freckled-covered nose and the swell of her lips meeting in a subtle Cupid’s Bow, and my heart skips a beat.

Addison Parks is beautiful—in every possible aspect of the word. She’s the kindest, most tender-hearted person I’ve had the pleasure of having in my life. Trying to grasp that she can’t be mine in the way I yearn for her has been one of the most painful realizations I’ve lived through. If we were together again, I’d spend hours worshipping every part of her stunning body, not leaving an inch of her untouched. She deserves to be adored, and, in a perfect world, I would be the man to do it.

But we don’t live in a perfect world. At least not right now. Addison’s involvement with me would sign her fate for something terrible. She’s already suffered enough at the hands of my father. It would kill me if anything else happened to her. My father is excellent at spotting his opponents’ weaknesses, and Addison is mine. He made an example out of her before, and I know he would have no qualms about doing it again.

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