Page 44 of His Greatest Muse

“Cute is an insult unless you’re speaking of children or animals,” he smarts.

“Don’t think that I don’t knowyou’realso afraid of onions. Keep bugging me about the ladybugs and I’ll post a seriously ugly picture of an onion on your Instagram,” I threaten.

“Do it and you’ll pay.”

I waggle my eyebrows and realize that he’s still cupping my face. My grin slowly falls as we both realize how close we are. He swallows so loud it’s audible.

It’s so easy to forget about time and place with Noah. We just mesh. Falling into conversation with him is as natural as taking a breath.

“Do you want to lay in bed and talk about your guests?” The question falls out of my mouth before I can stop it.

When he tenses and I watch his expression close off, I know it was the right thing to ask. Yet, it also feels like the absolute worst thing.

His hands fall from my face, and he leans back on his heels before climbing to his feet. I scoot back on the bed until I’m resting against the headboard. There are a few beats of awkward silence before he nods and comes to the other side of the bed.

The bed isn’t big enough for us to lie far apart. I can’t tell if I’m truly upset about that when he sits beside me and our arms rest side by side between us. His pinky curls around mine on the mattress. It’s a reassuring contact, the equivalent of a warm hug when it comes to Noah.

I let my leg press against his. “If you really don’t want to talk about it, we don’t have to. But it’s not good for you to always hold your feelings inside.”

“You should win a trophy for your ability to change a topic whenever you want to,” he grumbles.

“There wasn’t much more to say. For now, we leave it alone. You said you wouldn’t push, right?”

He exhales heavily. With the hand he has free, he starts tapping at his thigh.

“You know why I don’t want to see my dad. I want him to leave me alone. Why can’t he do that?”

“Because you’re family. Despite everything, your dad loves you, and you love him. It’s just that neither of you know how to express that. And you’re too afraid to. The past is dark for you two, but when is this fight too bloody to go on?”

His tapping picks up pace. “He loved me once, but not anymore. If he did, he wouldn’t have said what he did that day.”

I close my eyes, Noah’s hurt becoming mine. There isn’t much I wouldn’t do to take all of these problems away. Every child should feel loved by their parents. It breaks my heart that Noah has gone for so long believing Oakley doesn’t love him.

Growing up, I spent every summer break with the Huttons. They’re my second family. I’ve watched Oakley raise his children, and there’s no doubt in my mind that he loves each and every one of them. He and Noah were never close, but Oakley tried. Whether he knew what he was doing or had no clue, he didn’t stop trying to understand Noah. Everyone saw that but the man beside me.

But everything changed that day. The explosion that happened between them destroyed not only their relationship with one another but several outside of it. So much damage has been done that if I ever succeeded in bringing back the father and son, things would never be the same as they were.

I believe with everything in me that Noah needs to make amends with Oakley in order to move on. There will always be a huge chunk of him lost and hurting until they figure their shit out.

“It makes me sad that you think that,” I finally say.

“I have nothing else to think.”

I uncurl our pinky fingers, choosing to hold his hand instead. It’s so much bigger than mine, with tiny raised lines over the knuckles. It’s almost offensive that he’s hurt his hands so many times by throwing punches without gloves, considering my profession.

“When we go there for dinner, can you please just make sure you spend some time with your mom?” I ask.

His fingers stop tapping as he says, “She was sad tonight.”

“She was also happy to see you. It’s been months since you’ve seen your family.”

“I miss her,” he admits.

“You should tell her that. It would probably make her entire year.”

A beat of silence, and then, “Can I hold you tonight?”

My chest warms. The question reminds me of when we were young and I would sleep over but had to stay in Adalyn’s room. We always snuck out together and slept in Maddox and Braxton’s tree house, ignoring his parents’ rules. Despite being so young, he would ask me that question every time.

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