Pursuing My Rejected Luna by Cara Anderson novel Chapter 263

Ch. 33

Noah

I stand there in the hall, holding that drawing in my hands, for way longer than is necessary. As if I needed another distraction, I can’t stop wondering what it is about that little boy’s simple honesty that lodged itself right under my ribs and won’t leave. But fuck do I want it to.

“There you are!” The picture slips out of my hands at Cole’s booming voice. “What the fuck are you doing hiding back here?”

He bends over and picks up the drawing for me, holding it away from himself between two fingers while he looks it over, like a snake that might bite if he gets too close.

“Thanks.” I try to take the paper from him but he doesn’t release it. “I’ll take it back now.”

“I didn’t realize you were such a collector of amateur artwork. Who is that supposed to be anyway?” He lets go, relinquishing the portrait.

“It’s not important.” I start to push past him, determined to be anywhere but here, having this particular conversation. “Did you need me for something?”

“Woah, man. What’s going on?” He steps in my path. “I haven’t seen you since you talked to Cassandra earlier and now I find you hiding in a dead–end hallway clutching a child’s drawing. Something janky is definitely going on with you.”

“I kissed Piper.” I blurt out.

I think about kissing Piper two nights ago and the distress in Cassandra’s scent still lingering in the house long after she left for the night. I think about the kitchen doorway. Her there, watching, and me knowing she was there and making the choice I made anyway. I think about whether those things are related to the crying Liam mentioned. And I land on probably.

“That’s great, Noah! You two are great together! It’s about time you pull your head out of your ass and move forward with her before she gets tired of waiting on your sorry ass!”

“Yeah,” I mutter less enthusiastically.

Because I have to face how I feel about that. And if I’m honest with myself, I feel horrible. I staged something. I used Piper to make a point to a woman who has no claim on my behavior. That’s not who I want to be.

But there’s more to it than that. There’s another part of me who is, if not outright satisfied, at least something close to it. Satisfied with the knowledge that Cassandra is crying in the dark over something she chose to lose. She picked past me. She chose Jaxon. She used her own child as leverage and moved people around like they were pieces on a chessboard.

And now she’s crying when she thinks her son is asleep. I’m horrified that any part of me finds this satisfying. Even though I’m not sure the satisfaction is entirely without reason.

“Don’t sound so excited.” Cole draws me out of my inner turmoil. “If kissing a hot girl like Piper is such a hardship, I’d be happy to take her off your hands.”

I just bet he would. Cole is not exactly scrupulous when it comes to women. I just shake my head and chuckle at his antics.

“Back off, Casanova!” I shove him playfully. “I didn’t say it wasn’t great. I just have a lot on my mind. That’s all.”

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“Probably because you’re standing back here doing fuck all when the work is piling up.” He shoves me back. “Get your ass back to the office. I’ll meet you there.”

He takes off but I don’t rush to follow. I’m sure that sitting in this hallway cataloguing the reasons for a feeling I’m not proud of is not productive. But here we are.

I look at Liam’s drawing one more time. The three stick figures, a child’s rendition of a family–all of us on the same piece of paper as if we belong there. And no matter how I feel about his mother, a part of me wants that for him more than I should.

The events of this morning come back to me without my permission, the way they have all day since. I warned her and still she dared to think she had autonomy to make her own decisions in my house. So what if she was doing it to be helpful, selfless. I was seething.

Still, her reaction threw me off. I threatened her place here and she accepted it. She agreed with me. She said I understand and I was wrong. Who even is this woman?

I know who she’s not. She’s not my fucking Luna. My Luna will be the only woman to have free reign of my home and she is not her!

I finally manage to drag myself back to my office. For some reason I’m not entirely sure of, I set Liam’s drawing on my desk. I don’t shove it in a drawer or drop it in the bin, Nope. I put it on the desk, where I’ll see it every day. Who the hell knows why.

I sit down and open the Reeves file that really needs my attention. Losing even a sliver of Ironwood land to that man would be a huge failure. Not the outcome I want for my first major act as Alpha. But I can’t seem to pull my focus away from the colorful picture.

With a defeated sigh, I close the Reeves file and open a new document. I type a title at the top: Proximity variables and RMS progression–notes. Then I stare at the blinking cursor without typing anything else.

I close the document without saving. I have a lot of thoughts on the subject I need to sort through but I’m not ready to put that in writing. I’m not ready to draw the conclusions my reduced symptoms are clearly suggesting. Writing it down makes it a thing and I can’t bring myself to make it a thing. Not today.

Instead, I pick up my phone and type out a text to Piper: Dinner again this week?

But even as I wait for her response, an answer to my offer of another date, my mind whirs with thoughts of Cassandra and her little boy. My eyes wander back to the drawing again. Liam’s words bounce around in my head, wreaking havoc with my sanity. She cries when she thinks I’m asleep.

I’m managing her presence and this Goddess–damned bond just fine.

I keep telling myself I’m managing.