Chapter 8
If I thought standing inside my idol’s studio was scary, walking into the kitchen with one of his dads is terrifying. I’m not good with authority figures thanks to years of shit, couldn’t-care-less children’s home workers.
“Would you like a drink? A cup of tea?”
I shake my head. “No, thank you.”
“Please don’t be nervous, Noah. You’re in a safe place here.
Did you know that Saint was fifteen when he came to us?
He was a poor skinny little thing, too scared to look us in the eye.
Every time we wanted to talk to him, he thought we were going to send him back to his birth father.
The Saint you see now was built in this house.
What I’m saying is that if he brought you here, it’s because he sees something in you that could do with a little TLC and some family around you. ”
“But I’m twenty-one, an adult. I can manage on my own.
” How can Saint know that this is what I’ve always craved?
A parent that can talk to me, ask me about myself, about how I’m doing.
A safe place where I won’t be judged and discarded as not what they were looking for.
Fostered but returned time after time. I’m too quiet, too withdrawn, unable to make a connection with.
My eyes burn as tears threaten. I can’t cry in front of this man, he’ll think I’m pathetic, a baby.
My fingernails dig into my palms as I tighten the fists I’ve formed.
“Oh, Noah, darling. Come here.” Robin opens his arms and pulls me into a hug, his arms tightening around me, holding me against him.
I don’t know what to do, no one has ever hugged me to make me feel better.
My hands stay in fists against his chest as the tears refuse to be held back.
I can’t remember the last time I cried. It was a weakness that other kids would target, teasing and taunting the kid that did.
I don’t know how long we stand there, his gentle swaying soothing the pain in my chest. He slowly loosens his grip on me, and I look up at him and see nothing but kindness.
“Sorry,” I mutter, embarrassment burning on my cheeks.
“There’s nothing to apologise for, Noah. I think you needed that, and I’m honoured that I could help. Now, how about we get some food cooking. One thing you’ll learn about Saint is he turns into a grumpy bear when he’s hungry.”
“Hey, I heard that.” Saint’s voice is closer than I expect it to be, and I jolt away from Robin, dashing the stray tears from my cheeks. “When’s it going to be ready?”
“See what I mean?” Robin chuckles, shaking his head at his son. “Would you like to help, Noah?”
“I can’t cook.”
“Then it’s a good job I can, and I’m happy to teach you. I could do with a helper around here. Kip is more a hindrance, making such a mess. I’m sure he does it so I won’t ask him.”
Which is how I’m now listening to his instruction on how to slice and dice vegetables.
I’m sure I’m doing it wrong and taking too long, but Robin doesn’t rush me or berate me for doing it wrong.
I’m enjoying myself, happy listening to Robin as he chats away, telling me about Saint as a teenager.
By the sound of his grumbling, my new boss isn’t happy with it, but it’s light-hearted.
The front door opens, and a loud voice calls out that he’s hungry. I glance nervously at Robin, then at Saint. They’re both smiling at the approaching footsteps.
“It’s Knox,” Saint tells me. “He’s the manager of Dad’s gym and totally incapable of feeding himself. He comes home for his dinner most nights of the week. Lazy bastard.” The last two words were aimed at another beautiful man, not as good-looking as Saint but still very handsome.
I push the thought of how gorgeous my new boss is away. That’s not something I should be thinking. I know that he’s gay, he’s mentioned it in many of his magazine interviews, and it’s on his website. It’s another reason I wanted to work for him. I’ll be safe there.
My sex life is almost non-existent, a few hand or sloppy blowjobs in the back of a gay bar doesn’t make me experienced.
The need to lose my virginity has never been at the top of important things to do.
Sure, I’ve had plenty of offers, but I don’t want to lose it in a bathroom stall or in a bed that I’m not welcome to stay in.
I step next to Saint as the new member of his family strides into the kitchen. He immediately hugs Robin and kisses his cheek before hugging his other father. When he turns to me, he smiles. “Hi, you’re new.”
Saint gives me a look that seems like he’s checking if I’m okay. “This is Noah. He’s going to be working with me at the studio. He’s got awesome talents. It’s going to be exciting.”
“That’s cool. Hi, Noah, don’t let him boss you around.” He slugs Saint on the shoulder. “What’s for dinner?”
After that, the room becomes much louder and busier.
When Saint leads me to a chair at the huge, wood table, I sit and watch, listening to the banter, the jokes, and the jibes they throw at each other.
There’s so much love in the room, making my heart heavy.
It’s like a sit-com family, they’re all good looking and fun.
It shouldn’t be real. There has to be a catch, right?
The chili is delicious, and I’m encouraged to have seconds and to have as much of the garlic bread as I want. Soon, the dinner is over, and I look over to Saint. He hasn’t mentioned or asked about me staying here. Or his dad said no when they were still out in the hallway.
Saint stands up and looks at me. “Can I have a word, Noah?”
“Um, sure. Excuse me,” I say to Robin and Kip.
I can feel all three pairs of eyes on my back as I walk out with Saint.
“My bag is in your truck. If you get it for me, I can be out of your way. Please say thank you to Robin for making me so welcome. You have a wonderful family, Saint. I’ll be at the studio at ten o’clock. ”
Saint stands up to his full huge, well over six feet tall height and crosses his arms over his chest and scowls.
It’s a great scowl, and I wonder if he practised it in the mirror to perfect the look of intimidation.
“You are so like I was. You expect the worst in every situation. I can put that down to the hard knocks you’ve had all your life.
But that stops now. You are liked here. I think my Pops has got you in one of the spare rooms already.
I would like you to stay with them for a while since this place is food for the soul.
And I think you could use a little of that.
You can call me selfish, if you want, but I want you at your best when you’re working.
I don’t want someone that’s sleeping rough when you tell me you’re at a B&B.
” His expression turns softer, and a tiny smile lifts one corner of his mouth.
“Because I think that’s what you’ll do. Am I right? ”
I know I can’t lie to him. He’d let me go before I even picked up my gun and ink. “Yes, I’m sorry.”
“Thank you. Now, I’m going to get your bag, and you can stay here. I’ll pick you up in the morning.”
It looks like I’m staying, and for the first time in I don’t know how long, I feel safe.