Page 51 of Healing You
Steve curved his arm around his brother's shoulder, pulling him in for a hug. “But you don't deserve that, Noah.”
“Well... sometimes I deserve it.”
A laugh bellowed out of Steve. “Yeah, sometimes you do. Like when you miss Father's Day and then hardly ever visit.”
“Hey, I made it this year. And I came to Maddie's art auction. That counts for something, right?”
“Yeah, it does.”
The smile that Steve had just gotten back on Noah's face quickly disappeared like a drop of ink into a lake. “Can I tell you something?” he said, wringing his hands. But he didn't wait for Steve to give him the go ahead. “I fucking hate Father's Day. I hate our stupid tradition of honoring Dad's memories. I can't remember shit about him. I don't have any memories that stand out to me about our father. How fucked up is that? I wasn't that young when he died. Five is not young enough to justify no memories.”
Pressure built in Steve's throat once more. “Our dad was an amazing father. Even if they're dormant right now, those memories are still in you. Somewhere.”
Noah's knee bounced nervously and though he tried to hide it, Steve saw him swipe his knuckle under his eye, brushing away a stray tear. “Yeah, well, I can't access them.”
“You have a therapist back home?”
He snorted. “It's New York City. Even the rats have therapists.”
Steve ignored the sarcasm. “You talk to your doctor about this?”
“A little.”
Steve stood up from the table, pulling his car keys from his pocket. “I'll ask around—quietly—and see if I hear of any good recommendations. Sometimes therapists are like dating... you have to find the right match for your personality.”
“I trust your recommendation over my agent's any day.” Noah nodded, standing as well as Steve tossed his keys at his little brother.
“Good,” he said. “And you're driving—even with your suspended license, it's safer if you get us the rest of the way there.” As Noah turned to walk away, Steve grabbed his shoulder, spinning him to face him. “And if you trash my BMW like you did that rental car they reported on TMZ? You won't need a flight to get you back to NYC. I'll have kicked your ass back to LaGuardia myself.”
Noah gave him a lopsided grin as he climbed into the driver's side, starting the car. “I had nothing to do with that car that got trashed. It was my name on the rental, but my co-star took it out after I got back to my hotel.”
He started the car, pulling back onto the highway. They rode in silence for several minutes before Steve spoke again. “Could we keep my panic attack just between us for now? I don't want to upset Ma or ruin Cam and Lydia's night.”
Noah nodded, keeping his eyes on the road and both hands on the wheel at ten and two. “On one condition,” he said. “Start seeing your therapist again. You don't need to talk to me or Mom or Cam about it. But you need to talk to someone.”
Steve didn't even need to think about it. He'd already made that decision himself. “Deal.”
2 4
order in New York. The owner, Nick, was a gruff looking guy that usually spent his time either in the A fter popping by Steve's house to let Molly out, Yvonne and Kyra entered the engagement party. It was being held at Giuseppe's—Maple Grove's local upscale pizzeria. It wasn’t the sort of place you went to and ordered a slice. Their gourmet pies rivaled anything you'd kitchen or behind the bar. Yvonne recognized him, knew he grew up in this town too and even went to their high school. But he was a bit older than her, and he was the kid who always wore dirty Ramones T-shirts and smoked behind the bleachers with other mohawked kids. Come to think of it, he was the exact kind of rebellious guy Yvonne would have dated just to spite her mother. Except back then, she was in love with Steve.
Kyra grunted from beside her. “Ugh, Nick Forrester.”
Yvonne was taken aback for a moment. “You know him?”
“Not really. Sometimes we do happy hours here after work.” She gave another snort, accompanied by an eye roll. “He always looks so bothered by us when we come in a large group. Like, as if he doesn't want our money.”
From behind the bar, his gaze shot up. Only, he wasn't looking at Yvonne, his eyes were set onto Kyra. “Maybe he's just shy,” Yvonne said, feeling the tingles of awareness rushing down her body. His stare, even though not directed at her, made goose bumps raise against her skin.
“Maybe he's just a dick,” Kyra snapped. With a shake of her head, her almost platinum blond hair brushed against her shoulders. “Why are we still talking about him?”
Without realizing it, Yvonne had brought a finger to her mouth, nibbling on the edge of her newly painted nail. Kyra curved her hand around Yvonne's, her skin warm and soft, lowering her hand back to her side. “Don't be nervous,” she whispered. “Come on,” she said, giving Yvonne's hand a tug toward the bar. “I don't know about you, but I'm willing to deal with Nick the dick in order to get a Limoncello.”
“Maybe we'll get one of the other bartenders?” Nick wasn't the only guy behind the bar, but he was the one who was hustling the most.
Yvonne swept her gaze across the room that was getting more and more crowded by the second. It was full of all the people she loved. Everyone from town... Elsa, Lila, Frank, Amanda, and Lex, just to name a few. But then why the hell did she feel like an outsider among all these friends? Having the bar to cling to was helpful, and Yvonne didn't mind for a second that it was taking a while for Nick to come take their orders. Where the hell was Steve? Shouldn't he have been there by now?
Kyra was rattling on beside her. “I told you that dress would be perfect. It's not too fancy and not to casual. Steve is gonna go crazy—”
