Page 56 of His Greatest Muse

The red marker in his hand drifts across the CD and leaves behind a messy scribble before he hands it back to the man waiting. When I notice the marker shaking in his grip, I set my hand on his back and hope the subtle touch is enough to help soothe him somehow.

Leaning up on my toes, I move my mouth to his ear. “Sparks is closing the line. Then we can leave, okay?”

“Can you stay with me?”

Something wraps around my heart and tugs. “Always.”

The next person in line steps up and excitedly shoves a poster toward him, not even bothering with a hi. I wince and watch Noah sign it before giving it back. There are only a handful of people left, and one by one, they come and go until the line is gone.

I don’t waste a second before grasping Noah’s hand in mine and tugging him toward an area quiet enough we can speak without shouting. The smoke machine from beneath the DJ’s booth pushes tendrils of smoke around our feet. I’m too busy watching it wrap around Noah’s black boots to prepare myself for his next move.

I belt out a surprised squeal when he twists in front of me and lifts me into his arms before stalking straight through the club, past the woman with the stupid sign. With wide eyes, I quickly latch onto him and try not to let my face flame too much under the shocked and curious stares of everyone around us. I want to believe he would have done this even if what happened earlier was a figment of my imagination, but that would only make me both blindanddelusional.

In Noah’s world, this is as big of a declaration as any number of sweet words he could have said to me.

“You’re making a scene,” I tell him, my face buried in his throat. The scent of leather still lingers, bringing with it a sense of familiarity in such an uncomfortable place.

He adjusts his grip on my thighs, the tips of his fingers brushing the swell of my ass. “Let them see. I’m beyond caring.”

I’m glad nobody can see my face because there’s no way to stop my grin. It’s like a switch was flipped inside of him these last couple of weeks, his promise to me holding true. Everything I thought I knew about how I felt for him is changing, beginning to grow into something unknown. I want to poke and prod at it until I can figure out why it’s only just now appearing after years of nothing.

Is it me? Are they even new feelings, or have they always been there, lying dormant beneath my fear and worries? So many questions with so few answers.

The cool feel of the door against my warm back has me shivering as Noah walks us outside. The sudden stillness of the empty street is staggering compared to the bustle inside the club.

“Sparks said she would call the driver and have him meet us,” I tell him, the words still spoken into his throat. Despite the fact we’re alone outside, I can’t get myself to move away.

“Fuck the driver. I want to take you somewhere.”

My reply comes instantly.

“Let’s go.”

22

TINSLEY

“Alright,you can let me down now, you goof,” I tell him once it feels like we’ve been walking for hours.

It’s silent in this part of town, with no nosey reporters or fans lurking about. We spent long nights in this neighbourhood when we were teenagers. It was a place we could justbe, without the opinions and voices of those always around us. It’s different now, though. Changed.

The vacant lots we used to lie on and watch the sky have long since begun to fill with new, lavish houses, and a middle school with a fancy logo and walls of glass has been built where an old, abandoned pawn shop used to sit. When we passed a big stone sign with the words Beachwood Hills engraved in its centre on our way in, I felt a piece of my soul die.

In the time we’ve been gone, our safe space has been overrun by outsiders. I’m not sure how I should feel about that.

Noah doesn’t fight me as I squirm in his arms and drop to my feet. “It hasn’t felt like it’s been that long since we’ve been here,” I say softly, the silence threatening to swallow my words up.

“A year,” he replies. Before Adalyn hooked him up with Reggie and his life changed.

The old sidewalks that used to be a tripping hazard have been replaced, not a single chip or divot in sight. A line of countless street lights hangs over the road, making it feel bright and safe. I wouldn’t doubt every one of these houses has a state-of-the-line security system watching us walk down the street right now.

It feels like my parents’ neighbourhood in Toronto. The safety should be a good thing, but half of the fun of hanging out in this neighbourhood was the thrill of never knowing what was lurking in the shadows. It’s stupid, but when your best friend is Noah Hutton, you learn not to be afraid of anything.

Anyway, the worst we ever saw in this neighbourhood back then was a few harmless homeless people or a family of raccoons. If my father had ever learned that we were spending our nights together out here, he would have never let me come back.

“Do you miss it?” I ask, walking alongside Noah.

“I don’t miss this place. I miss being here with you.”

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