New York, New York #6
“This was very successful,” said Noah, as they got in line behind an oblivious older woman buying two cat toys and roughly eighty pairs of socks. “I’m getting this, by the way.”
AJ looked up at him, uncomfortable. “Are you sure?” she asked. “I already owe you for Blue Con…which, thank you, by the way.” Her face burned.
Noah waved it aside. “It’s my pleasure,” he said quietly. “Seriously.”
They checked out and loaded their purchases into the car. Then Noah turned toward the Big Y at the other end of the parking lot. This was the grocery store where Emily worked, although not on Sundays. “Should we pick up stuff for dinner while we’re here?”
Again, AJ’s heart leapt. “Okay,” she said. “But I’m getting this.”
Noah held up his hands.
They did a second shop aisle by aisle. AJ, who generally used lists, found this extremely inefficient, but she didn’t want to disrupt whatever was happening between them. It was all so sudden and unexpected, yet totally familiar and just…nice.
So nice it felt dangerous to read into anything they were doing or even buying. At any point Noah might ask if she needed a lift back to her parents’ house. In a way that would be the most normal thing he could do. All AJ knew was that she wasn’t going to be the one to suggest it.
If Noah noticed her go quiet, he said nothing. But when they got to the breakfast cereals, he slowed the cart. Shaking his head, he reached for a box of Special K Red Berries.
“Absolute shlock,” he said, and placed it in the cart.
They returned to Drew House, unloaded the car, then set out on a run down the tree-lined ridge, quickly crossing town lines. Noah kept pace beside her, giving AJ the skinny on the other mansions on his street, jogging ahead when a car passed or if they came to a blind curve.
He had good form, AJ noticed, probably a vestige of his stint at West Point. As they ran, she watched a dark spot on his trapezius expand until his entire shirt clung to him, which was not at all a bad look.
There was something deeply grounding about breathing together, sweating together—it hearkened back to the comfort they’d once shared as the two greatest living experts on NOW 4. Some version of those people was still inside them; as they moved together, AJ could feel them stir.
When they arrived back at Drew House, the sun was at its highest point. The endorphins from the run carried them into their bathing suits and out to the pool, where they proceeded to try to blow up the pool toys, which was a mistake because they were both extremely winded.
“I think I might actually pass out,” gasped AJ, whose orange plastic donut had barely changed shape since she’d unfurled it from the box.
“Push through,” wheezed Noah, whose blue donut was further along, but only just.
AJ could tell that Noah wasn’t going to give up until they finished at least one, so she abandoned the orange float and they focused on the blue, exchanging the pool toy in silence, listening to each other breathe. Finally, Noah declared it done and tossed it into the pool.
They watched it drift forlornly in the water until AJ started laughing. Noah stood, tugging his shirt off, then jumped into the water to retrieve it for her. She floated on her back, feet dangling over the side; he treaded beside her, occasionally spinning her with his hand.
“It’s a nice pool,” said AJ, and it was. Definitely another Noah-driven project by the look of the dark flagstone, sleek lines, and general severeness. “You’re really going to town on this place.”
Noah was submerged up to his eyes. He smiled at her, and for an instant AJ thought he might pull her in. Then he surfaced enough to speak. “I figure I might as well do it now while I have the energy,” he said. “Swimming will be especially beneficial as I…get older.”
AJ nodded. She didn’t want to rupture the pristine bell jar of this day, but she didn’t want him to feel like she was ignoring his implication either. “That makes sense,” she said after a beat.
Noah splashed her foot lightly, then dove under, reemerging at the other end of the pool. Water cascaded down the muscles of his back as he stood and surveyed the lawn.
They swam until their hands and feet were pruney, then Noah brought Bud out and the two of them air-dried, watching the dog chase white butterflies through the grass.
At sunset, they prepared dinner: grilled chicken with a panoply of vegetables. As Noah enumerated his very specific views on how this should be executed, AJ was finally forced to admit that he was actually a suburban dad. A super-hot, very famous, child-free suburban dad.
“What can I do?” she asked, as he lovingly applied marinade to the meat.
“You know where the plates are, right?”
AJ set the patio table as Noah fired up the grill and engaged in a complicated flamenco dance of timers and tongs.
“Can I get you anything?” he asked when he came up for air. “Water? Wine?”
“I’m okay with water,” said AJ. She swallowed. “Actually, I don’t drink anymore.”
Noah’s eyes shone. “I was thinking water as well.” He squinted. “Is it too dark out here?”
He checked his timers and took her inside, through the kitchen, past the formal dining room, to a butler’s pantry AJ had never seen. He flung open a wood-paneled door revealing a series of increasingly ornate candelabras, including the silver pair from Eudora’s gazpacho banquet.
“Pick one,” he said, then dashed off to minister to his chicken. AJ selected an ornate glass piece whose five arms had been sculpted to look like dolphins, the candles rising up out of their mouths. It was just this side of obscene, and AJ instantly loved it.
They ate by the light of the candle-fellating dolphins, moths fluttering nearby as the stars began to peek out. “So, how did Eudora come by this?” AJ nodded to the dolphins.
Noah squinted. “I believe this one was a gift from the Venetian consulate while she was touring Italy with ETT. As You Like It.”
AJ smiled. “Must have been quite a production.”
Noah gave her a wolfish grin. “You should see the one she got for Cymbeline.”
AJ laughed, and he gave her a long look she couldn’t decipher. Just when she thought he wouldn’t speak, he said, “It’s strange. All these people I knew…they’re just stories now.”
AJ’s heart constricted. If she hadn’t been here, he would have spent the day after Eudora’s memorial completely alone. AJ held his gaze. “Not to me.”
He looked at her fiercely, then turned back to his plate.
The conversation wended on, but for the first time in many hours, their ease began to feel artificial. They had spent the day at a respectful distance, avoiding the hard parts of last night, avoiding the bedroom, each trying not to spook the other.
But now they’d run through almost every diversion and a fresh tension had set in. AJ wanted to face it, but she also didn’t. When Noah began to clear, she stopped him.
“I can handle this,” she said. “Why don’t you go shower?”
Noah gave her an appraising look. “All right,” he said.
He helped AJ bring the plates in then disappeared into the enormous darkened house. Alone, AJ moved to calm herself. She did the dishes, then cleaned and covered the grill.
Noah reappeared ten minutes later in a fresh charcoal-colored T-shirt and sweatpants, his hair damp from bathing. AJ was retrieving the dolphin candelabra as he and Bud emerged on the patio for the dog’s nighttime outing.
“Hey,” he said, an unmistakable edge in his voice.
“Hey,” said AJ. She watched him follow Bud to a low hedge, her heart loud in her ears.
There was something comfortingly ridiculous about the dolphins; AJ didn’t want to blow them out.
So instead, with great care and a feeling of being one with the Bronte sisters, she carried the lit candelabra upstairs.
The bedroom was spartan—Noah had tidied up, sheets tucked in with military precision.
AJ entered the bathroom and started the tap on the soak tub. She placed the candelabra beside the sink, its flames twinning in the mirror, and turned out the overhead lights. Then she stripped out of her swimsuit, topknotted her hair, and stepped into the tub. She waited.
A short time later, Noah’s footsteps padded across the bedroom carpet. As he knocked on the bathroom door, AJ could see him in the mirror, his head inclined, eyes downcast. “You good?” he asked gruffly.
“Come in,” said AJ, trying to keep her own voice even.
She watched him hesitate then enter. He had removed his shirt.
AJ had spent half the day with him like this, but it didn’t matter; her mouth went dry as she took in the expanse of his bare shoulders, the powerful chest, the dark trail leading from his navel into his sweatpants.
Slowly, Noah approached the tub. His face was serious as he took in her shape, soft in the low light.
“Hey there,” she said quietly.
His eyebrows lifted once. “Hey.” He lowered himself onto the floor beside her and rested his arm on the tub’s rim. The smooth skin of his bicep looked amber in the candle’s glow.
The water splashed softly as AJ sat forward. She lathered a washcloth with Noah’s honey-scented soap and ran it over her neck, her shoulders, her breasts.
“I like this tub,” she said, as suds coalesced on the water’s surface.
“It suits you,” said Noah.
Tentatively, he took the washcloth from her hands. He added more soap then dipped it in the water and placed the warm compress on her back; as he did, he caught her sternum with his other hand, the way he had backstage in Miami.
AJ closed her eyes, letting him hold her. She heard his breath hitch, and then she felt it—a fervent heat, like sun on sand, so intense she felt almost faint.
Her eyes opened wide. “Was that…you?”
His gaze was feverish. He nodded.
Her hand was on top of his now. She didn’t remember putting it there. “How?”
Noah took a breath. “Exercise, I’m guessing,” he said. “Breathing together. Those old neural pathways are pretty deeply ingrained.”
He rinsed the washcloth and began rubbing circles into her back.