AJ explained as she led him down the hall. Noah knelt before the struggling washing machine, spinning the drum so the clothes sloshed and dropped.
“Your drainpipe is blocked,” he said. He glanced up at her. “Do you have a toolbox?”
AJ stood by as he unbolted the unit from the floor and unplugged itfrom the wall. Then, he took hold of the machine and lifted, water, wet clothes, and all. His back expanded, power surging through his shoulders and biceps, his enormous hands spread wide against the enamel surface.
Watching him made AJ feel soft, sluggish. Unbidden, a vision flitted through her mind—in it, Noah was pushing her up against the wall instead.
“Age,” Noah grunted.
Jarred, AJ ducked under his arm to remove the front panel. She positioned the bucket under the drainpipe, but the second she unscrewed the trap, water gushed everywhere. The tendons in Noah’s neck strained as AJ extracted the culprit: a shirt from one of Emily’s dolls.
It was chaos trying to collect the water from under the washer. They worked together to mop up the spill until the floor was toweled off, and the two of them were drenched.
“I think that does it,” said Noah, replacing the last bolt.
He pulled himself onto his knees to face AJ. His shirt was soaked; it clung to the broad muscles of his shoulders, the taper of his abdomen. AJ felt a rush of heat. She dragged her gaze up from his stomach and found him studying her intently. He was still panting, his cheeks flushed. His pupils seemed to grow as he took her in. He wet his lips, and AJ’s mouth went dry.
Holy shit, he wasbeautiful.
“Age?” came Emily’s voice from the hall. “Oh my God, what’s going on, Age?”
AJ was standing in an instant.
“Everything’s fine, Em,” she said, heart hammering. “You should be in bed.”
“Oh, hello,” Emily said, giving Noah a coy smile.
“Hi, Emily,” said Noah, getting to his feet.
AJ had snapped into hyper-functioning-sister mode. She told Noah to help himself to Patrick’s clothes from the dryer then showed him to the boys’ bathroom down the hall. She settled Emily onto the small end of the sectional with a blanket and a ginger ale, and finally sped upstairsto change out of her own sodden clothes. She tried not to imagine Noah doing the same.
A few minutes later, she returned to find Noah standing in the living room, deep in conversation with Emily about her current wish: a driver’s license. At the sight of him wearing Patrick’s loud purple sweatshirt and clownlike maroon sweatpants, AJ smiled.
“Mom says I can have one if I work hard,” said Emily, blushing. She was clearly enjoying Noah’s attention. “I’m seventeen. Same as Age.”
“Yes, I know,” said Noah, eyes drifting to the gallery of framed Graves family Christmas cards on the mantel. He picked one up and examined it. His eyes crinkled.
“You’re so cute,” said Noah, and AJ felt a warm glow spread across her chest. He replaced the frame on the mantel and cleared his throat. “You all have the same smile.”
He glanced down at her then over at the sectional with something akin to rapaciousness. “I haven’t seen a real couch in…way too long.”
AJ snorted. She hadn’t thought about it, but all of the furniture at Drew House was doll-size compared to Noah. “Have at it,” she said, taking the seat beside Emily.
Noah seemed stunned by his options. “What if I just—” He grabbed one of the pillows and placed it next to AJ, then lay down. He was so long, he didn’t quite fit, so he sat up a little and tentatively repositioned the pillow on AJ’s lap. “Is this okay?” he asked, meeting her eyes.
AJ’s pulse jumped. She nodded, and he nestled into the pillow, and now this was AJ’s favorite day. Possibly ever.
“Which episode are you on?” asked Noah, as AJ restartedAstronauticals.
“ ‘Pilot’s Plunder,’ ” said AJ, as Ezell’s deep voice filled the room with the show’s intro.
Past planet rings,
And comets bright,
The crater whale Gilaride,
Sails her crew.
