AJ shrugged, schooling her features into a neutral expression. “Nothing.”
“You’re smirking.”
AJ nodded toward the book in his hands. “I’ve just never seen someone volunteer to readWaiting for Godot.”
Noah considered her. “Godotis a classic.”
“Right,” said AJ, turning away.
“Have you read it?” His tone immediately pissed her off—he clearly assumed she hadn’t.
“I have,” said AJ. Technically, she’d watched the 1961 televised version with Zero Mostel and Burgess Meredith while working at the store, but close enough.
“And?” asked Noah, his dark eyes probing.
AJ ground her heels into the carpet. “I think Sam Beckett was just having a laugh at everyone’s expense. Honestly. If a woman wrote a show that long about waiting for a guy to call, they’d just tell her to get an answering machine.”
Noah snorted. “Is that what you’re working on out there?”
AJ felt a jolt, and there it was again, that all-consuming awareness. Ofhim.“Actually, it’s a piece about arson. Care to comment?”
Noah’s nostrils flared, but he averted his gaze to the text.
AJ stalked off, fuming. Yup, she hated him.
AJ, Becky, and Sarahhad been Gladstone High’s starting midfield lineup for two years. They were known as the Powerpuff Girls because of their hair colors, and that summer, their plan had been to take the Brown University soccer intensive by storm.
“Aww, Blossom. I still can’t believe you’re not coming,” said Sarah, placing her duffel in Becky’s mom’s van.
“We’ll tell all the scouts about you,” said Becky. Sarah jabbed her in the ribs.
“Wait, are you not bringing a life-size cardboard cutout of me?” AJ quipped to hide her tears.
To cheer her up, Patrick and Libby took her to a UMass house party that night.
“Little Graves! Where’s your squad?” asked Brendan Walsh, tilting the keg to fill AJ’s Solo cup.
“Fighting crime,” said AJ. She could feel Patrick worrying about her from across the yard, so she forced herself to smile at Walsh’sSouth Parkimpressions. When she tried to inquire about the UMass comedy scene, he didn’t understand. “I didn’t know girls did that. Crazy.” Then, in Cartman’s voice, he asked if AJ thought he had a shot with Libby. AJ told him maybe.
As the party devolved around her, AJ cradled her broken arm, trying and failing not to think of Becky and Sarah at Brown. So close. She’d beenso fucking closeto getting out.
The next morning, when a customer requestedAlien,AJ went to the back room to retrieve it herself. Technically, she was supposed to ask Noah for help, but she was so sick of not being able to do things because of her stupid arm, and asking NoahGodot-Is-a-Classic Drew, who did not need this job and could leave Gladstone whenever he wished, was beyond the pale.
Unfortunately,Alienwas on the top shelf.
Determinedly, AJ hoisted herself onto two facing lower shelves, her body suspended between like a drawbridge. The case forAlienwas still slightly out of reach. As AJ rose onto her tiptoes, she felt the rung supporting her right leg bow.
Fuck.
“Whatare you doing?” said Noah furiously.
AJ jumped at the sound of his voice, her right foot sliding six inches, her good hand clutching as she twisted back. She had a split second to realize that she was about to fall on her broken arm.
Then she felt a warm, solid presence at her back, two enormous hands on her ribs. In one deft movement, Noah caught her, folding herinto his chest to shield her injured arm from impact. As her legs swung off the shelves, AJ’s cheek brushed against the rough line of his jaw, and a chill went through her. Up close, he smelledgood—clean and sweet and earthy.
For a moment, he cradled her body against his, and she let him, his mountainous size seemingly shorting out her brain. Dazedly, AJ lifted her eyes and found him watching her with a startled expression. Several seconds passed as they stared at each other, AJ’s feet six inches off the floor.
Then, abruptly, Noah set her down. “You shouldn’t do that,” he scolded, taking a step back.
