Noah (17 page)

Couldn’t he tell? Fuck, I didn't know what was wrong with me.

"It'll be fun." I nodded and tried to muster some enthusiasm. "You haven't seen Julian by any chance, have you?"

There was no big plan. I didn't know what I'd say to Julian when I saw him, but I was done with his hiding. And he didn't need to worry about me crossing any more lines. Someway, somehow, I'd get over him. I hoped.

"Uh, yeah, sure." Michael craned his neck to look past me. "I think I saw him in the back. Come on. I'll take you there."

I was fully capable of finding the seating area in the back myself, but I followed anyway. With Michael, I looked busy. Fewer people stopped me, so that was good.

Someone called out for me way back from where we came, but I pretended not to hear it. The music was loud, making it a plausible excuse.

Rather than continuing to the back, Michael turned toward the bathrooms in a corridor behind the main bar, which confused me. Though, before I could ask what was up, he faced me with an odd expression. Seriousness mixed with nerves, and he ran a hand through his light hair.

I folded my arms over my chest and leaned a shoulder against the wall. "If you saw Julian here, it's called cruising."

"Heh. Cruising." He pulled a strained laugh and took a step closer as two ladies passed to get in line. "Funny you should mention that."

Oh, really.

I narrowed my eyes, wondering if I'd become so whipped and focused on Julian that I'd missed something obvious.

His gaze strayed before he faced me again. "You're kinda difficult to get alone, you know."

Yup, I'd missed something.

I let out a chuckle and scrubbed a hand over my face. "You flirtin' with me, kid?"

This
attention, I was used to. Flattering for sure, but I had no interest. Nor would I have taken the bait back in the day. If there'd been a beautiful woman on his arm, fuck yeah. But only one guy had captured my attention—and pretty much everything else—and he wasn't here.

"I don't work for you anymore," he said, "and I owed it to myself to try." With that, he stepped close enough so our chests were touching. His flirting was bold already, so I hadn't expected another move from him. But before I could decline, the fucker planted one on me.

What the hell?

It was surreal, and I just fucking stood there. Did I make dudes' gaydar go off all of a sudden? I cursed internally and broke away.

He looked confused. "You're not gay?"

"Uh…" I chuckled, 'cause it was all I could do. "It's not—"
that easy
. Fuck. "I'm not int—" I sounded like a stuttering moron, but I didn't give two shits 'cause that was when I saw Julian at the opening of the hallway. "Goddammit, I'm too old for cliché bullshit." He was quick to bail, and it made me groan. As I grew anxious, I gave Michael a tight smile and squeezed his shoulder. "It's been nice working with you, Michael. Not interested, though." I left it there and took off after Julian.

I'd only gotten a glimpse of him, but it had been enough. He was drunk, and he'd looked shocked and wounded to see me with another guy. Fuck it, I couldn’t blame him, but if he'd been sober, he would have seen it for what it was.

"Julian!" I pushed past the chatty ladies who worked for Brooklyn in makeup and finally caught up to him when he reached the exit. "Not so fast, kid."

"Let go of me." He flinched away and headed outside, and I followed with a fucking sigh. "It was a mistake to come."

The last couple of weeks came rushing back, and he was pissing me off. I didn't do drama. I didn't
chase
.

"Hey!" I stopped on the sidewalk and glared at his back.

The anger in my tone made him stop, and he turned to me.

Deep breath. We needed to talk, not yell. He was in a bad way, shadows back under his eyes, hair messier than usual. The kid knew how to worry me. With a jerk of my chin, I told him to follow me, and I walked between the two buildings so we could get some privacy.

It wasn't a deep alley, and I came to a stop some fifteen feet away from the sidewalk.

"What the
fuck
is going on with you, Julian?" I asked, frustrated. "Did you know I had to hear from Tennyson that you're staying at Danny and Zane's place? I'm fucking worried here, but you won't talk to me."

He laughed darkly and kicked at a bottle on the ground. "You didn't seem very worried in there."

"Fuck you," I told him. "Fuck you all the way off for that. Maybe it looked bad, but I didn't instigate
shit
. Nor did I kiss him back. But even if I had?" I widened my arms. "So what? I'm a free man, aren't I?"

As soon as those words left me, I regretted them. They were true, but I had to fucking cool it. He frustrated me so damn much because I could
see
the state he was in. He'd never been able to hide his moods or how he felt; he only refused to talk.

"You gotta level with me, kid." I took a gentler approach and placed my hands on his shoulders. "You look like shit."

"Thanks."

I rolled my eyes and hauled him in for a hug. "You know that’s not what I meant." I sniffed his hair, smelling cigarette smoke and… Well, he probably hadn't showered in a few days. "Why did you leave the loft?"

"I needed space." He wouldn’t hug me back yet, but I could be a relentless motherfucker. "I told you."

"You never tell me why." That was the problem. "Why did you call Danny instead of Nicky?"

He tensed up. "I don't feel like being anybody's fuck toy."

Fuck. His tone… Was that what he thought I wanted? Just sex? Nicky, sure. He was a cunt stain. But I wasn’t Nicky.

Of course, I hadn't been very verbal with my own intentions. I barely knew them. Or, maybe I did, but sweet mother of mercy, I had a heart to protect. Emma had managed to put a dent in it, but it was nothing in comparison to what Julian could do.

His happiness came before mine, though.

That much was clear to me now.

Unfortunately, I'd been crap at showing Julian I gave a fuck. I hadn't even called around and asked my friends if they knew where he was. Mostly because I'd assumed he'd go to Nicky, but also 'cause I didn't want them to know I didn't have it all together.

"Are we done hugging?" he muttered.

"No." I hugged him harder because of that. "Not until you tell me how you're doing. Give me
something
, Julian."

He shuddered a breath, and I could tell from his posture that he didn't have much fight left.

"I don't know what to say." His hands came to rest carefully along my sides, just above my belt. "I don't feel very good—"

"Try again, baby," I murmured. I hadn't meant to cut him off, but I wanted honesty.

He paused, struggling, then admitted defeat. "Everything sucks. Okay?"

It wasn't okay, but now I had something to go on. "Is it the anniversary?"

Painful reminder, though I had expected it to affect me more than it did. There was going to be a moment of silence at the airports in both Philly and Orlando for the lives that had been lost, and I had asked Julian weeks ago if he wanted to go. But we were on the same page. We were moving on, and we were remembering our family our way—privately.

Regardless, I had other worries that weighed heavier. Namely, the one I couldn’t let go of. Literally.

"Some, yes." Slowly, his arms circled me until he clasped his hands at my lower back. "I want to tell you the rest, Noah, but it scares the crap out of me. I don't want you to hate me."

"Hey." I moved my hands to cup his cheeks so he'd look up at me. The sight of his eyes brimming with unshed tears fucking tore at me. "I could never hate you."

He swallowed hard and averted his gaze. "I'm tired. I'm so damn tired."

"Let's get you some rest, then." I pressed my lips to his forehead, fucking relieved to have him near. Felt like that was a goddamn running theme. The relief. "What does Kendall say?"

"That I should talk to you."

Good. That was good. "We'll get there." I brushed my thumbs over the shadows under his eyes. "No more running away, though."

He cringed. "That makes me sound childish. I'm sorry."

I shrugged and draped an arm around his shoulders. "We all cope differently, yeah? It ain't exactly mature to drown your miseries in a bottle of whiskey either, but I'm a champ at it." I grinned faintly and started ushering him out of the alley. "There's one thing you and I have in common when we're immature dicks, though."

"What's that?"

"We evidently stop showering," I replied wryly.

"Shit, I'm a mess." He made a face, visibly embarrassed. "I can't say I feel like going back into the bar."

I laughed quietly. "Don't worry, I'm taking you home."

That gave him a pause. "Blue is at the beach house. And my luggage."

"We'll get her and your stuff before we go to the airport. Deal?"

"I suppose she can survive one night without me."

Chapter 16

The plane was fucking huge, and there was even a part in the back where kids could nap. Which the castmembers who traveled with their children appreciated.

So did I. Saved me from hearing their sleepy whines. God knew I loved Kayden and Ivy, but I also loved handing the runts over when they got fussy.

I stayed in the front with Tennyson, Lucia, Julian, and a few others who were focusing on work during the flight. Sophie and Brooklyn were mingling with the cast and being all mommylike, and for a moment, I envied the actors. They only worked when the camera was on, aside from learning lines and characters.

Then I remembered how much I loved this, and it was all good again. But fuck, if I'd ever pull a Tennyson and try my hand at being a creative producer. The man was drowning in paperwork. Legal shit, permits, deadlines, conference calls, and puzzling everything together.

"Refill my coffee, will ya?" I extended my cup to Julian, who sat next to me with his laptop.

"But I'm—" He stopped there. I knew he was busy with the music software he had up, but we were on our way to Paris now. He was my PA. He sighed and got up. "Yes,
sir
."

I stifled a grin and got back to transferring notes from my pad to my own laptop.

"You're having way too much fun with that, Noah." Tennyson occupied one of the four seats across the aisle, documents spread out on the remaining seats as well as on the table in the middle. "He's on the payroll as a songwriter now, not a PA."

"He didn't think I could make him suffer." I stretched out my legs and rolled my shoulders. "He asked for it, Wright."

"He's certainly stubborn." He inclined his head and side-eyed me. "I wonder where he got that from."

"Fuck off," I chuckled. "You're hardly one to talk, buddy."

"We're not discussing me now." He smirked.

"How convenient," I deadpanned.

"What's convenient?" Sophie joined us and shut the curtains that separated us from the next section. "Ivy and Kayden are finally asleep."

Tennyson smiled as she plopped down on his lap, and what followed wasn’t meant for an audience. Jesus Christ, where they trying for another kid?

"Get a fucking room," I said, turning back to my work.

Sophie beamed and flushed while her hubby whispered shit in her ear. "I didn't think you were against a little PDA, Collins," she told me. "You didn't seem to mind it yesterday."

"The fuck?" I frowned at her.

Julian returned at that point, so she merely shrugged and grinned impishly.

What the hell had she seen? I guessed it was Michael, when he'd kissed me. In which case, it had nothing on Tennyson and Sophie molesting each other.

Either way, it was nothing I wanted to discuss.

"Your coffee, almighty one." Julian sat down and slid the coffee my way on our table. "Let me know if there's anything else I can do for your holiness."

"You can treat me with the same respect you would a boss you don't call family."

That gave him something to think about.

*

After dinner was over, I called it a day where work was concerned. It was getting dark, and the cabin crew dimmed the lights, anyway. It got quieter.

Julian had Blue in his lap as he scribbled on his iPad, Tennyson and Sophie were dozing off, as were the others.

Pulling off my hoodie, I got comfortable and adjusted my seat so I could lean back and check out Netflix on my tablet.

"Are you going to watch a movie?" Julian asked.

"Or a TV show, haven't decided yet." I grabbed a blanket, glad I'd gone with sweats today. Sleeping in jeans was complete shit. "You wanna watch something with me?"

"Okay." He was quick to stow away his iPad and put Blue back in her travel carrier, which wasn't as easy as it should've been. She was a fucking brat. "When you fly commercial and they show movies you've worked on, is that weird?"

I smirked lazily. "Nah, it's fun. I usually end up watching them."

"But you see everything behind too, right? You see more than what the average public sees." He pulled a blanket over him as well and pushed up the armrests between us so he could take up more space, the little fucker.

"Sure, it's like a scrapbook. Every scene comes with a memory or a dozen." I focused on the app as he placed his head on my shoulder. It wasn’t distracting at
all
. "What're you in the mood for?"

"I'm not choosy. You pick."

He looked good, all snuggled up next to me, and it was a struggle not to go further. A blind person could see there was something between us, but it wasn’t enough. Otherwise, Julian wouldn’t have avoided me or turned me down when I was affectionate the day after his birthday.

That better stop stinging soon.

"Hey, can we talk instead?" Julian asked.

"Yeah?" That surprised me. "Of course." I set aside my tablet and leaned back again, wondering if he had a topic in mind. I hadn't pushed him about anything after last night, and it seemed a little soon for him to open up already. One could hope, though.

"We're spending almost two months in
Paris
," he murmured. "It didn't hit me until this morning."

I smiled and looked down as he tilted his head up.

"Will you have any free time so we can sightsee?" he wondered.

The trip was work. I wouldn’t be there to sightsee, but taking
some
time off was doable. I'd always loved Paris, and of course, I had my favorites. If he hadn't already been there, I wanted to show him Parc des Buttes Chaumont, catch a show in Pigalle, have lunch by the river…

I could picture it, and in not a single one of the scenarios did I view him as a family member. I wanted
dates
. Hand-holding, sappy photos, kisses on bridges, dinners, and all the goddamn time in the world to explore him. No more "just this once" or "to get him outta my system."

A fucking relationship.

"I'll make time." I pressed a kiss to his forehead instead. It was what I seemed to be able to get away with before he pulled away, and I couldn’t take that anymore. "We arrive in the morning local time, so technically we start with two days off."

"We should distract ourselves tomorrow," he said quietly. "I don't think I can sleep the entire day, as much as I would've wanted it."

I agreed. The anniversary wouldn’t be a walk in the park. Mentally and emotionally, I had moved on fairly well, I thought. But on days like birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays, I was a masochist. That was when I pulled out photo albums and reminisced.

There would be no photo albums for tomorrow, but that didn't mean much. My head was packed with memories, and I was sure I'd assault myself with them.

"You know what?" A memory came to me then, as did a plan. "My folks honeymooned in Paris, and Ma always said she loved the view from that cathedral—" I snapped my fingers, trying to remember the name of it. "Sacré something. Sacré Coeur?"

Julian nodded. "Yes. It'd be a sweet tribute to Nana and Pops if we went."

"All right, it's a plan." I'd even light a candle for them. Ma would've liked that. "I think the view is supposed to be better than from the Eiffel Tower."

"It is." The art major in Julian appeared. I reckoned history mattered to him, too. "Three hundred steps to the top, Mr. Athlete."

I was game.

For the next couple of hours, we talked more about Paris. He spoke animatedly of art and history, and it was impossible not to smile at him. I knew that passion. I felt the same about filmmaking, and he was fortunate to have two subjects that got him going, the other being music. He was gifted and proved it on a daily basis.

Here and there, my thoughts wandered. Perhaps 'cause we'd be balls deep in the city of love. But nevertheless, I couldn’t get that out of my head. What I wanted. What I should've wanted
more
when I was with Emma. I had loved her deeply. I had given her everything. Or everything I'd had at the time, maybe. 'Cause it felt more now. I couldn’t fucking explain it.

Hard to think it'd been exactly one year since I ended things with her. It wasn't really on my mind, but God knew it would be if it'd been Julian and not her.

And he didn't have a single goddamn clue how I felt, which… Christ, it was fucked up. If I wanted him to be open with me, I had to return the favor. He wasn’t stupid. He
had
to know I was attracted. But beyond that? How would he know? I'd told him he was sexy, beautiful…whatever. But actions spoke louder than words, and I'd been shit at showing him.

I winced internally, remembering the times I'd come home in the morning, wearing the same clothes as the night before when I'd told him I was going to a bar.

I couldn’t really say I regretted it. I guessed it was one of those mistakes—or several—I had to go through before accepting what I wanted. And it wasn’t any of the women I'd fucked after my first night with Julian.

Even so, he saw it. He knew what I was doing. He saw me as more straight than…anything else. Goddamn labels. But I didn't blame him. I just had to change it. I had to show him what
had
changed, rather.

Then, it would be up to him.

*

"Noah, it's time to wake up."

Fuck no. "Another hour." I rolled over and buried my head in the überfluffy hotel pillow. "How'dju even get into my room?"

"You mean suite." He snorted, and I felt the bed dip as he sat down. "As your devoted PA, I have a spare key. I guess you already forgot."

Guess so
.

"What time is it?" I grumbled sleepily.

"Three. I ordered car service, hope you don't mind."

"Sounds good." I let out a yawn and stretched a bit. "As my slave, could you be a good boy and gimme a back rub?"

"Would you say that to a regular PA?" he retorted.

Touché. I wouldn’t have.

"It would explain why Michael shoved his tongue down your throat," he muttered.

That made me laugh. "There was no tongue action, kid." He was cute when he was jealous. Unlike me. I was just a dick. "All right, give me ten minutes, then I'll meet you downstairs. I need to shower off the jet lag."

*

We arrived in Montmartre an hour later, and we were dropped off at the bottom of the hill with Sacré Coeur in front of us. The large church was located at the highest point in Paris, and I didn't doubt Julian when he told me it was four hundred steps from here. Ninety to get to the top of the hill, then three hundred inside the church to reach the lookout in the main dome.

"I wonder how many stories it would be," I mused as we started heading up. There were tourists and vendors everywhere, and for every landing we reached, there was someone trying to sell us crappy plastic souvenirs.

"Well…" Julian squinted toward the top. "If my math is correct, it should be around…twenty-eight stories? From here to the top, I mean."

"This should be fun, then." I turned my ball cap backward and pushed up the sleeves of my Henley. "Let's work up a sweat, yeah?"

He didn't seem amused, but he followed me when I picked up the pace to a jog. There was no way he could be surprised. I'd gotten dressed in sweats and running shoes, and he'd lived with me long enough to know better.

We reached the church in a few minutes, and as I caught my breath, I pictured my parents strolling around here decades ago. I could imagine what she'd point to and tell Pop to take a photo of. The trees, the stunning view, the church itself, the expansive staircase, and all the countless angles.

"It's official," Julian panted. "I hate cobblestones."

I chuckled and looked down where he stood, bent over. "That was just the first ninety steps, kid. You spent already?"

He ignored that. "I really need to give up smoking."

"Best thing you've said all day." I clapped him on the back and peered up at the church. "Come on. Let's climb that dome thing before we go inside the church." I had a feeling I wouldn’t be interested in any workout once I'd seen the interior and assaulted myself with more memories of my folks.

To the left of Sacré Coeur was the entrance for those who wanted to go all the way to the top. I made sure I had cash to pay the fee, and then we ended up standing in line for a solid half hour.

"I'm glad we came." I draped an arm around his shoulders and leaned on him a bit. "Maybe next anniversary, we can go to where Mia and James went on their honeymoon."

Julian scrunched his nose and looked up at me. "You want to revisit the place where my mom and dad got it on like rabbits?"

Okay, I hadn't thought that through. I'd just thought it was sweet, the whole tribute thing. And it beat talking to some random fucking gravesite in Pittsburgh. They weren't even buried there. Or anywhere.

If I remembered correctly, Mia and James had gone on some romantic cruise, anyway. It would be different than sightseeing in Paris.

"Never mind." I scratched my nose. We were almost there, thank fuck.