A familiar stomping filled AJ’s ears and relief flooded her body.
“Hey.”
Noah stood behind them, breathless. As their gazes met, AJ knew at once something was wrong. His outward expression was calm, but his eyes were hollow. As they roved over her, AJ felt a tug, and she sank beneath the churning tide of his uncertainty, the undertow of his despair.
Noah.What was going on?
As she searched him, AJ sensed a golden ray cutting across the horizon—their connection. She focused on it and felt the cord glow brighter, felt the sky reemerge from the sea.
Eudora thwacked Noah’s chest. “Cutting it a bit close, aren’t we?”
He tore his eyes from AJ’s. “I made it, didn’t I?” he said, his kindest grin spreading across his face. AJ gave herself a shake—perhaps her own nerves were getting the better of her.
Onstage, Peter van der Hopper announced the first panelist.
“Oh dear,” said Eudora. Noah grasped her shoulder. Eudora’s lip quivered as she looked up at him. Again, she grabbed for AJ’s hand.
“Our next panelist is a real legend, a Tony Award winner and an Academy Award nominee. But we all know her as an ass-kicking pilot in a minidress. Give it up for Eudora Drew.”
The crowd was rabid with anticipation. AJ felt Eudora’s hand, clawlike, and remembered her words.It’s a terrible thing to stand in the wings, haunted by the specter of your younger self.
“You’ve got this,” she said.
Noah held his great-aunt’s gaze. “Break a leg.”
Eudora looked up at him, terrified, unable to move.Fuck.
Noah gave her a small, reassuring nod.
Slowly, AJ felt Eudora’s fingers unclench. She took one step forward, then another, her shoes tottering toward the stage. Then with one great breath, she stepped into the light.
As the crowd shrieked, Eudora smiled, and AJ knew they didn’t have to worry anymore. The second the spotlight hit her face, it was like she’d never been away.
“Go, Glimmette,” AJ cheered, as Noah whooped beside her.
She caught his eye, and laughing in relief, they reached for each other. Noah pulled her close, his hands fanning open across her back, and AJ sank into his embrace. Her head fit perfectly under his chin. This feeling was beyond good—it was safe and warm and right.
It was home.
Noah released her slowly, his hand steadying her lower back, then falling away. The first question was to Eudora; AJ’s heart was in her ears as she faced forward to listen to her response.
Halfway through Eudora’s favorite anecdote about Ezell, the one where he woke up in the middle of the night after a dream about a space whale, AJ’s eyes drifted back to Noah. His expression was soft, out of focus, and AJ had the impression that he was very far away.
What had happened today at Simmons?
AJ turned back to the stage, but she could feel him near. As Eudora got a laugh, his weight shifted toward her, and AJ’s heartbeat picked up.
Between two trusting players, the slightest gesture can change the course of a scene,Ezell had written inLaughter & Death.
Over the next several questions, AJ leaned incrementally toward him, until her hip gently sloped against the firm muscle of his thigh. More questions, more answers. Noah didn’t move away, and neither did she.
AJ could hear the stage manager murmuring through the curtain, but here they were alone. Hidden. In the shadows, Noah consumed her senses. With every breath, AJ went a little softer against his body, awash in the clean, earthy scent of his skin, in the feel of his heat through her shirt.
Close to her ear, closer than she expected, she heard him swallow, and her pulse quickened.
The crowd was laughing again, but AJ had missed the joke. Slowly, so slowly, she turned toward him, glancing first at his chest, then his lips, then finally his eyes.
Stay with me.
