Page 74 of The Devil's Waltz

My gaze follows his hand and I press my lips together at hownotweird it feels to have him touching me. I should pull away or knock his hand off my knee, but I don’t do either.

“I’m off today,” he says. “Why don’t I take over for Brody and show you around the city? There’s something I think you’d enjoy.”

I swallow twice before I can speak. “I don’t think I can enjoy anything right now.”

“Give me an hour? It just might make you feel better.”

I arch a brow, and despite the pit in my stomach, I can’t help it—my curiosity is piqued. I exhale a heavy sigh. “Okay, fine.Onehour.”

I stare at Noah after we get out of the cab, my brows halfway up my forehead. “Axe throwing? Are you sure you want to put a weapon in my hands?”

He laughs softly, nodding. “Trust me. Throwing sharp objects can be surprisingly therapeutic.” He nudges my shoulder, offering a faint smirk. “Especially if you manage to hit the target.”

“Okay, then,” I grumble as we walk toward the building. The inside resembles something between a bowling alley and a gym. It has the faint scent of wood and an interesting combination of liquor and fried food.

We check in and sign a waiver that basically says we can’t sue them if we lose a limb. Then I follow Noah over to our section.

“Have you ever done this before?” he asks, a glint of excitement in his eyes.

I prop my hands on my hips. “Does it look like I have?”

“Absolutely not. I just thought I would give you the benefit of the doubt by asking.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m assuming you’ve done this before. Why don’t you show me how it’s done?”

Noah steps up and grabs a hatchet-sized axe with his dominant hand, testing the weight of it before he steps up to the red line, focusing on the target across the room. He inhales slowly and lifts both arms above his head, holding the axe steady, then lets it fly. It slams into the target about five inches above the bullseye.

I can’t help the curl of my lips watching him. Before I can stop myself, my gaze goes to the muscles in his forearms. It’s undeniable how attractive Noah is, but I’m usually caught up in him running his mouth at me.Notwhat that mouth would feel like—Nope. Not going there.

He walks back to me, grinning like he’s waiting for me to praise him.

“Okay,” I say flatly, “so you just throw it at the board?”

He offers a deep laugh. “There’s a bit more to it than that. You need a firm grip on the axe and follow through naturally after you throw it. And you want to throw it outward, not up.”

“Uh-huh,” I say, nodding, as if I’m following his words. I’m surprised by the nervous flutter in my stomach. There’s also a part of me that’s worried I’m going to completely miss the target and embarrass myself, giving Noah another thing to hold over my head.

His words echo back to me from the day I ran into him at headquarters.

Wasted potential.

I shake my head, trying to dispel the memory, and take a deep breath.

“You’ve got this,” he says with an encouraging nudge.

I walk over and pick up an axe, stopping at the red line. Inhaling slowly, I raise the axe above my shoulder, trying my best to copy the motion Noah demonstrated. The axe is surprisingly heavy. I’m not entirely sure I’m strong enough for this but I’m not about to back down now. I set my sights on the target, squinting at it as the bullseye taunts me.

Summoning every ounce of strength and courage I have, I swing my arm forward, releasing the axe with a flick of my wrist. It sails through the air, and I hold my breath, waiting for it to land. It sinks into the target with a loudthudon the first ring.

“Not bad,” Noah says.

I jump at the sound of his voice so close to my ear. A rush of adrenaline sends my head spinning. I whip around to face him, my lips splitting into a grin. “Holy shit,” I say, “that was fun.”

“I’m not going to say I told you so. I don’t think I have to.”

I slap him on the shoulder halfheartedly. Leave it to Noah to make this moment about himself.

We throw a few more before wandering over to the food court. Despite not being super hungry, I agree to split a basket of fries.

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