Page 144 of Echoes of Us

I felt the slickness between us and grimaced. “Okay, it’s getting worse,” I said.

He snickered as I pressed back on his shoulders. He puthis weight on his hands, hovering over me. Noah’s eyes were especially green when his face was flushed after sex; they were mesmerizing.

“Do you want to shower?”

I nodded enthusiastically. Noah smiled again and moved off the bed. My eyes raked down at the mess on my chest and then towards him, watching his long, lean legs as he moseyed to the bathroom. There wasn’t an inch of Noah that didn’t work for me. He looked over his shoulder and grinned.

“Don’t take the condom off. You can finish fucking me in there.” He sniggered at the face I made.

I didn’t think I’d ever get used to the way Noah talked about sex. I jumped off the bed and followed him, listening to the water running already inside.

Noah was in the kitchen, music blasting off-beat to the sound of the pans as he moved around. He had a fancy coffee machine whirring in the background, and he mumbled along to the song as he threw back a Red Bull.

“Are you tired?” I kissed his cheek from behind.

“Do you want to go again?” he joked, laughing as I moved away. “Yeah, I haven’t been sleeping well the last couple of nights,” he admitted. He drank what was left in the can and threw it in the garbage. He got a coffee cup out and placed it on the counter for me before starting another one.

“Thanks.” I grabbed it and sat on a stool. He was still half-dancing to the song playing in the background. “I know this one,” I told him.

He looked up, smiling. “Atty, if you didn’t know this song, we’d have to break up. Everybody knows Bon Jovi.” He lifted an eyebrow.

“My mom likes it.”

He grinned like I had given him the perfect opening. “Your mom has good taste, but we already knew that.”

“Don’t go there,” I warned.

He laughed loudly. “It’s not my fault your dad’s hot.”

I grimaced. “Why?” I asked, shaking my head. It was like he enjoyed watching me be uncomfortable.

He shrugged and raised the volume of the song, pretending to play the guitar with a spatula as he jumped around the kitchen.

“Do you know how to play?”

He lowered the volume. “What?”

“Guitar,” I clarified.

“No, I never picked it up. I do know how to play the drums, though.” He picked up another utensil and mimicked playing drums to the beat of the song.

I shook my head, smiling at his antics.

“If you’re thinking I’d look hot playing the drums, you wouldn’t be wrong. Maybe I’ll have my set sent over.”

“I’d like to see that.”

He raised the volume again and pretended to play the drums as the song rose to a crescendo. I loved this side of Noah. It never stopped amusing me how much he got into the music, usually singing off-key and dancing. It felt like he knew the lyrics to every song.

“‘We’ll give it a shot,’” he sang, banging the spatulas and giving a kick. One of them slipped from his hand, flying across the kitchen. “Oh shit.”

I snorted a laugh as he leaned down to pick it up.

“You must have been good,” I joked.

He narrowed his eyes. “Fucking fantastic.” The song changed. His eyebrows went up, and a small smile grew on his lips.

“What?”

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