Julia caught her breath. “Goddammit, Noah.”
“Sorry, didn’t hear you come in.”
No freaking kidding.
He picked up the remote on the counter, pressed a button, and the music lowered. His blue eyes sparked with excitement, his smile ridiculously joy filled. He wore a white tank with a neon green Monster logo covering the front, and black cargo
shorts.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Practicing.” He bent his knees and hopped, pulling the board off the floor and twisting to make a quarter circle. Julia sipped air just before he touched down again. She reached for his shoulder to hold him down, but he moved too fast, repeating the movement three more times until he faced her again.
When he hit the ground, Julia pressed a hand to his shoulder to keep him there. The sight of him jarring his ankle like that frayed her patience. “Jesus Christ, you’re like a four-year-old on crack.”
He lifted one golden brow. “Have you ever really seen a four-year-old on crack? I think not.”
“Do you have ADD or ADHD or something? You don’t ever sit still or stand still or do anything…just…still.”
He grinned and leaned his hands on the counter, swooshing the board back and forth while his upper body remained in one place. “Standing still is a waste of potential energy.”
She narrowed her eyes, suddenly realizing why he was so amped. “Finn’s still here, isn’t he?”
“Bing-bing-bing,” Finn called from the living room. “That lady wins a prize.” He came around the corner and sauntered into the kitchen. Unlike Noah, who’d showered after the evening workout, Finn was still in his workout tank and shorts, rich brown hair sloppy, olive skin grungy, and all in all not unattractive as far as that after-workout appeal went.
“I should have known.” She released Noah’s shoulder, and he carved his way around her and down the hall again with a finesse and skill that mesmerized her every time she saw it. “Why is he always five times as amped when he’s with you?”
Finn rested his forearms on the counter and pointed that bright-white grin at her. “You’re giving me way too much credit. That’s all Noah, all the time.”
She heaved a sigh and closed her eyes. “Lucky, lucky me.”
The man made her crazy in a variety of ways. He also made her laugh, made her think, and definitely made her hot. In the last week, she’d surmised he was, by far, the most challenging athlete she’d ever rehabbed.
Noah swooshed past, skimming his hand along the hall, then pushed off, did something like a twisting jump that happened so fast Julia couldn’t define the move, then landed and curved toward the front door.
“Noah, stop it,” she called after him, her unease ramping with every moment he stayed on that board. “What part of taking it slow didn’t you—”
“Hey, watch this.” He neared the front door, where a staircase led to the second floor and, still moving forward, gripped the heavy balustrade supporting the railing, using it as a pivot point to jump and flip around, then sailed back toward her, all with the grace and ease of a champion. He caught himself with both hands on the doorframe into the kitchen, just shy of plowing into her. “Cool, right?”
“I’ve spent seven days—seven days—loosening up that ankle, Hunt. Now you’re…you’re… What the hell is that, anyway? A skateboard or something?”
“It’s my practice board. It’s a special snowboard mounted on wheels with gizmos to make it feel like a snowboard. It doesn’t really act like a snowboard on snow, but it’s better than no snow—which we need to have a talk about, by the way.” He gestured to himself up and down. “This is me, practicing.”
“You call boarding through the house, around furniture, over tile and carpet and wood, probably
four-wheeling down the stairs, practicing? And you’re not ready for snow.”
“Streetstyle’s all the rage,” Finn said. “Burton’s got a competition strictly for streetstyle. Noah should enter this year. Big air’s his gig, but he’s damn good at streetstyle.”
“All those long days on the loose as kids, right, bro?” Noah carved a wave pattern past them
again, using the edge of the table to pull him into a turn. “Lousy parents are good for something. And I’m totally ready for snow, Quinn. Get wood just thinking about it.”
Oh Christ. She wished he wouldn’t bring up his wood. She had a hard enough time keeping it off her mind as it was. “Noah, please stop. You’re making me dizzy and freaking me out.”
“Hey.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Watch this.”
“Finn, please tell him—” Julia started to implore Noah’s buddy but caught sight of Noah tipping the board on end and spinning, donut-style, in the foyer. Then jumped, flipped, and sailed toward her again. “Jesus Christ, Noah.”