was prone to do, but Noah was always gone, running around the center with Carl, changing the world one animal at a time. Alex had only seen glimpses of the guy over the last few days. Noah helping Carl. Driving away in his car. Hurrying off to pick up an injured deer and then another litter of baby foxes.
Now, Alex had Noah to himself, and he got to stare at the way Noah’s sleek muscles moved under his skin as he lifted and carried stuff out of the shed and threw it into the large trash container they’d rented for the occasion.
He was a couple of inches shorter than Alex and sleeker. Runner’s body. His muscles were sharp and defined, likely not the result of spending time at a gym, like most guys Alex knew. He wasn’t overly buff. Noah was built for agility and quick movements, not brute force, and his muscles were the result of hard, physical labor.
“Fuck,” Noah grumbled as he heaved a bunch of newspapers, all tied up in neat stacks with a string, into the container. “Some of this crap dates back to when my mom was a baby. Why would anybody need to keep all this shit?”
“We should make a separate pile for the boards,” Alex reasoned as he carried out another pile. “What we can’t use anymore can be probably used as firewood.”
Noah wiped the sweat off his forehead and nodded. “Good idea.”
“Why do you even have all this wood?” Alex mused out loud. He needed something to concentrate on. Something that wasn’t Noah’s sweaty body and those grunts he made every time he lifted something extra heavy. Alex felt like he’d been on edge ever since Noah walked into the shed in his sweats and old T-shirt, which he casually pulled off after about twenty minutes of work, making Alex hard almost instantaneously, and unlike the wood in the shed, the one in his pants wasn’t as easy to get rid of.
Noah considered the mountain of different-sized boards and the thoughtful frown on his face, combined with the bottom lip between his teeth, were going to be Alex’s undoing because he was going to attack the guy any moment now and lick him all over like he was Alex’s personal Popsicle.
“I’m guessing some of it is leftovers from when they built new fences. As for whatever else is there—I have no clue.”
Noah lifted one end of a wooden pole, which looked tall and wide enough to be used as an electrical pole. Alex hurried to help and the two of them dragged it outside and dropped it next to the shed. Noah grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler and sat down on one end of the pole. The sight of him drinking, head leaned back and eyes closed, was like a personalized porn, made specifically with Alex in mind.
“Too bad I didn’t work here back then. I could have put a stop to the madness,” Noah said and flashed Alex an easy grin.
“When did you start working here?” Alex asked. He’d been wondering about that, but there hadn’t been a good opportunity for anything more than just a passing conversation.
“It’s my second year. It’s technically an internship.” Noah hesitated for a beat before he continued. “I want to become a vet, so it’ll be good to have something like that in my application.”
“Impressive.” Alex didn’t have a plan. He had no deep passion for… anything, really. Mainly, he just coasted along in life. It was kind of pathetic, now that he thought about it.
“I don’t know about impressive, but that’s the goal right now. Unless I get a full personality transplant and fall in love with something like accounting.”
“Is that likely?” Alex’s lips twitched at Noah’s grumbled words.
Noah shrugged. “When my mom gets her hands on the technology, then sure.”
“Is this one of those times where the parents want you to follow in their footsteps, but you have a dream of becoming an Elvis impersonator and don’t have the heart to tell them to shove it and go off to live in Vegas? Is being a vet your Elvis dream?”
“That’s very specific.”
“Even us, spoiled, good-for-nothing rich boys have to have alternative career paths in mind, you know, for when you realize that if you collect enough misdemeanors to your name, it only leads you to shoveling bear shit in Oregon.”
“Sure. I can totally relate to that feeling,” Noah deadpanned. “And it’s got nothing to do with following in my mom’s