Chapter 21
NOAH
The first thing I did when we got back to Mount Olympus and Mr. Leight handed our phones back was call my mom.
I’d been avoiding her almost since the moment I entered Clik Games with Team Olympus…
or longer. Shit, I’d been avoiding talking to her ever since Miles’s accident, because I knew she blamed me and I couldn’t stomach the guilt of it.
I blamed me, too. That was why I’d taken this stupid fucking deal with Olympus Corp in the first place.
“Noah, is it you or have the scammers hacked your phone to tell me I’ve won the lottery again?” My mother’s dry greeting when the call connected had me smiling.
“Again? Where was my cut of that cash? Damn, Mom, I could be living the high life on the beach of Monaco right now.” She snorted a laugh.
“You could be, yes, and without the fake lottery win. And yet you’re throwing yourself off buildings and pretending to be a man. What the hell is going on with you, Noah Louise Fearly?”
I groaned, having foolishly thought she’d give me a minute or two of small talk before the guilt trip started. “Mom…please don’t make this into an argument. I called because I miss you, not because I want you to make me feel shitty about my life choices.”
“Baby, you nearly died,” she exclaimed. “You were in a coma again. Miles is still in rehab after his last stunt with you, and—-”
“I get it!” I exploded, cutting her off.
“I get it, okay. It’s all my fault. Can you please, just for five minutes, pretend like you don’t blame me for everything bad that’s happened in the past year and just be my mom?
” Fuck, my eyes were heating up, and I was three seconds away from crying.
I didn’t realize how badly I needed advice from my mom until speaking with Z the other night.
Hearing how much he missed his own mom—-even if he didn’t say it in so many words—-made me realize I was taking mine for granted.
Parents wouldn’t always be there, and it was foolish to waste the moments we had.
A painful silence followed my plea, and for a horrible moment I wondered if she’d hung up. Then she cleared her throat and my heart slammed against my broken rib cage.
“I never blamed you for anything, sweetheart,” she said softly, her words breaking the paper--thin dam holding back my tears.
“I’m so sorry I made you feel that way. I’m just so scared to lose you and Miles both, and…
No, there’s no excuses. Noah, I am sorry.
Tell me what’s going on, baby. I’m listening. ”
It was exactly what I needed to hear, but now I was crying and couldn’t get the words out, which I think she could tell because after a minute she started talking again.
“I went to see Miles yesterday at the rehab facility, and he’s doing really well.
He’s worried about you and misses you, of course, but he wanted me to let you know that your new cameraman has really bad framing or something?
I don’t remember what it was. He was very passionate about it and wants you to call him because he said they need to do a better job. ”
I laughed through my tears because of course my brother was ripping on Skye’s camera work.
Arrogant shit thought he was the best stunt videographer on the planet, and no one would live up to his standards.
“I’ll do that,” I agreed, sniffling as I wiped my face with my sweater.
I was sitting cross--legged in the middle of my bed in my shared room with Skye, but everyone else was downstairs making dinner.
Or rather, Augie and Tor were making dinner while Minnie stirred up shit by knocking things off countertops just to watch Xavier rage.
“Miles would actually get along really well with Skye,” I said when I’d pulled myself together a bit more. “I’ll have to introduce them when this is all over.”
“Skye is the one you share a room with?” Mom asked thoughtfully.
“Yeah, he’s probably the nicest person I’ve met in my whole life. You’d love him. And he’s known about me since basically day one and constantly makes me feel safe sharing a bedroom with him.”
She gave a small sigh. “Well, that’s reassuring. Are you two…romantic? Miles mentioned he was concerned about you with one of these boys—-”
“With Skye?” I spluttered, laughing. “God no. We’re friends, nothing more.”
“So who was Miles talking about, then?” She was too damn sharp to let me sweep that question aside.
I groaned, rubbing a hand over my face. “Probably Minnie.”
“Minnie?” Mom repeated, sounding skeptical. “Like the mouse?”
“Minho,” I corrected, grinning at her silly question. “Minho Park. You know, from that K--pop group I used to be obsessed with?”
“Ohhhh yes, I remember. But no, I think Miles was more concerned about that other boy that you used to have a poster of on your bedroom wall. The one who shares Hot Falcon sponsorship with you?”
My jaw dropped. “Xavier?” I said it in a squeak of disbelief. “Why would Miles be worried about him?”
Mom chuckled. “Hmm, who knows? He said something about you flirting with him at a party a few years ago.”
I frowned, searching my memory. “What? I never met Xavier before joining this team.” Maybe Miles was bullshitting Mom because he didn’t want to talk about his own drama with Ace and Xavier? I guessed that if he wouldn’t tell me what’d happened, he sure as hell wouldn’t tell her.
“Ah, I believe he said it was the gala party, sweetheart. The night of your accident. Probably for the best you don’t remember that, then. Otherwise I can imagine it would be an uncomfortable dynamic in the house, huh?”
What the fuck? I met Xavier that night? How the fuck do I not remember that?
A cold chill ran through me not because I recalled anything about the gala or Xavier, but because I remembered Ace in my apartment accusing me of revenge for something I couldn’t understand.
“So how are your ribs feeling now?” Mom asked, oblivious to the shitstorm swirling through me. “Jared kept me updated daily with your doctor’s reports but insisted I couldn’t visit.”
I smiled, pushing the Ace--related anxiety aside to give my mom my full attention.
“Yes, that was a good call on his part, and you know it. All it’d take would be some journalist recognizing Anastasia Charleston, prima ballerina, to put two and two together.
Perils of having me and Miles in the spotlight when we were kids, Mom. ”
She huffed and clicked her tongue with frustration. “I know, Jared said the same. He and Kelly take good care of you, don’t they?”
“They definitely do,” I assured her. “And did you know they made me Isla’s godmother?”
“No! That’s lovely, though. I still need to send Kelly a congratulations gift, actually. Do you think Isla would look good in a tutu?”
I smiled, shaking my head. “She’d look adorable.”
A knock on the bedroom door drew my attention a moment before Z’s head popped in and he gave me a curious look, gesturing to the phone in my hand. I nodded and held up one finger to tell him to wait.
“I should go, Mom. I think dinner is ready downstairs. Thanks for talking with me, though.”
“You know I love when you call, Noah,” she replied with a slight touch of sadness in her voice. Probably thanks to my months of declined calls and quick voice chat catch--ups. “But you haven’t really asked me any big life--advice kind of questions. What had you so upset when you called?”
I swallowed, thinking it over. “Nothing really. I guess I just needed to hear your voice.”
“I’m always just a call away, baby. Anytime you need.”
She ended the call, and I sniffled back the tears that were burning the backs of my eyeballs again.
“Girlfriend?” Z asked, startling me and making my head snap back up to look his way. I’d forgotten he was still standing there. “On the phone, I mean.”
I frowned, then shook my head with a short laugh. “No, my mom. Talking with you made me feel shitty about how long it’d been since I’d called her willingly.”
“Ah.” He winced. “Sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about, Z. I needed the reminder.”
Instead of replying, he crossed the room past Skye’s bed and sat down next to me, then wrapped me up in a huge hug.
Shock made me stiffen momentarily, but then I relaxed into his strong embrace and tried really hard to enjoy the moment and not make it creepy by sniffing him. He smelled delicious, though.
“What’s this for?” I mumbled into his biceps as he rubbed my back in soothing circles.
“You looked like you needed a hug, Rocky,” he replied, matter-of-factly, “and I have arms, so it’d be rude not to provide said hug.”
“Can’t argue with that logic,” I replied, wrapping my arms around his slim muscular torso to hug him back. Because if I needed a hug, then he definitely needed one too.
We stayed like that for probably longer than a hug should last between friends, but I didn’t really have any scope of reference. Skye hugged me pretty often, but he was also an overgrown golden retriever and would happily curl up in my—-or anyone’s—-lap if given half a chance.
“Did you say dinner was ready?” I asked, awkwardly releasing him when my mind started playing silly tricks on me and trying to imagine what Z would be like in bed.
He shook his head, ruffling my hair gently. “Nope, I did not. In fact, Ace is in the process of ordering pizzas because Xavi tried helping August by cooking the rice, and long story short, the fire extinguisher has been used. Which in turn ruined literally everything else being made.”
I snort--laughed. “What?”
“Yeah. Anyway, I came up to ask if you can come listen to a new melody I’ve been working on. There’s something not quite right with it, and I thought maybe if I force myself to play it for you, I’ll figure it out.”
My lips parted in surprise as I blinked up at him. His confession the other day still echoed through my head, and the weight of his request sat in my lap like an elephant. “Yeah, absolutely. My ears are all yours.”
“Thanks, Rocks, you’re the best.” He stood up, offering me a hand, then led the way out of my room while I trailed behind like a lovesick puppy.
Shit. Except he didn’t take me through to his recording studio; we went into his bedroom, and it suddenly struck me that I’d never been in there.
Which was odd, because he shared a room with Minho.
As Z picked up his guitar and gestured for me to sit, I realized I might need therapy. Or religion. Or a freaking cold shower. Because all I could think about as I made myself comfy on Minho’s queen--size bed opposite Z’s was whether they’d be into sharing more than just a room.
What a shame Z’s heart belonged to some mysterious one--night stand.