Page 5 of His Greatest Muse
Right now, my head is somewhere else. On someone else.
“For fuck’s sake, just go in so I can go home. I’ve had enough of your psycho ass,” Sparks snaps, waving a small hand in front of my face.
“Hands to yourself unless you want me to break your fingers,” I threaten, still staring out the car window.
“Break my fingers and I’ll break yours.”
I turn my head and stare at her black-stained scowl. “Try it.”
Curling my hand around the smoothie in the centre console, I open the door and then step outside. Sparks doesn’t say anything before driving off.
There’s a stupid fucking bell above the door of the gym, and it rattles when I step inside. I search through the mess of construction tape and power tools until I find her.
For the first time since I left a week ago, I feel my heart beat.
“Noah!” she shrieks from the makeshift boxing ring.
Her boxing gloves come flying off, hitting the floor. Wide, silver eyes brighten, and a grin spreads her pink lips as she starts jogging toward me. Strides long and steady, she closes the distance quickly.
I don’t let myself sway when she jumps into my arms. I’ve become too accustomed to her. To this move. Five times in the past two months, I’ve left her. Five times, she’s come running to me the minute I’ve returned.
“Tinsley.”
She buries her face in my neck. I cradle the back of her head and splay my hand over her back, the Styrofoam smoothie cup barely avoiding her skin.
“I missed you,” she sighs.
“I’m here now. When are you done at this place?”
Stepping back, she adjusts the straps of her flimsy sports bra and sets her hands on her hips. My eyes strain with the effort it takes not to look her up and down.
“I have about another hour until lunch. Are you gonna stick around or go home and relax? I imagine you’re tired.”
“Is your father here?”
She snorts a laugh. “No. But you already knew that.”
I hide my satisfaction well, having mastered that skill. Her father hates me. For whatever fucking reason. Probably because I’m the one person who could take her from him, and he knows it.
I’ve been trying it since we were teenagers. One of these days, I’ll succeed.
“I’ll stay.”
She lights up, and I curl my fingers to keep from touching her smile. “Yay! Alright. Please try not to scare the construction workers off. They’re on a roll today.”
One glance at them shows that they’re more interested in watching her nipples poke through her bra than working. A warning flashes in my eyes as I stare at them, and a beat later, they’re back to work.
“Right. A roll,” I grunt.
“Don’t be an ass. I only have a few more minutes left before I can take a break. Wait for me?”
“Drink your smoothie first,” I order when she takes a small sip and then tries to hand it back to me so she can get back on the mat. “All of it.”
“Keep bossing me around and I’m going to dump it on your head instead.”
I keep my mouth shut, and she wraps her lips around the straw, drinking the expensive-as-shit mango drink in large gulps. Satisfaction floods me.
After a handful of swallows, she shoves the cup against my chest with a sickly smile. “Happy, Dad?”