Free Rebound by Noelle August Page A

his classic way of changing subjects with zero warning. The kid barely graduated high school, but his mind’s always churning, going a hundred miles an hour in ten directions at a time. He’s brilliant, but most people can’t tell. They don’t see past the swearing and partying, or the tattoos. That’s how Grey likes it.
    “Have to,” I tell him. “It’s a work thing.”
    “Whatever. Responsibility sucks.” Grey rubs his eyes, bloodshot after three hours in saltwater. We have the same father, so we lookthe same in a lot of ways, but he’s olive-skinned and darker than me, which makes the signature gray eyes common to all Blackwood men stand out more on him.
    “We need to eat,” he says. “I’m so hungry, I’m about to throw up.”
    “Ten more minutes.” I’m starving too, but I’m not ready to give this up yet. The water’s turning glassy and calm, so I stretch my arms out and hang them off the end of my board.
    “I’ll be at the car,” Grey says and paddles into the next wave.
    I watch him stand up and fly toward shore. Eye color isn’t the only Blackwood trait we have in common. When our minds are made up, they’re made up.
    A wave of tiredness hits me, a mix of sleepiness and muscle-fatigue. This is the feeling I love. I know I’ll sleep well tonight. Hopefully a full night without nightmares. Without waking up at the crack of dawn with the sound of Chloe’s laughter in my ears.
    I try not to think about the question Alison asked. About what happens after we die. I can’t think about it. Can’t let Chloe seep into more of my waking life.
    Out of the blue, I remember telling Alison what this means to me. The surf. How she’d closed her eyes, imagining it. I wonder if she’s ever tried it.
    I’ve caught myself thinking about her too much this week. Or watching her as she worked at the conference table in my office. Or sitting right next to her during meetings, when there were other seats available. I’ve been observing her. Creating my own Alison Quick profile.
    She dresses to kill. Designer stuff, but she puts some flair into things, managing to look classic and modern at the same time. The only constant in her wardrobe seems to be her diamond “A” studded earrings, which works great. When we talk, I always have somewhere to look.
    She hums to herself when she prepares her coffee—always withcinnamon dusted on top. She talks to her horse trainer every morning and smiles the entire time. She’s good with names—she had everyone in the office down by the second day—but she isn’t exactly friendly with them. Even with her own team, she’s courteous and cordial. It surprises me. She admitted to me that she liked horses better than people at the Gallianos’ party, but all week I’ve seen glimpses of the girl who was spontaneous and sweet that night. And fun and sexy as hell.
    I get the feeling she’s holding back. Catwoman is closer to the real Alison. But why does she hide that side of herself? I catch my train of thought and mentally punch myself. I’ve just spent ten minutes thinking about how much I wish she wasn’t on my mind. Shit.
    As I paddle in, I think of the boating trip tomorrow, spending the day on Graham Quick’s boat to talk shop. That’s going to be special. Me, Alison—and Julia, who I had to invite after I told Alison I’d bring her along. I don’t know why I said it. Maybe the way Alison looked around the new complex, drinking it in, excited. I needed to put more distance between us. Julia had struck me as a solution.
    I shake my head. Great idea, Blackwood. Throw a girl who has nothing to do with anything into an enclosed space, at sea, with the people you need to impress most. But I don’t have much choice. I said I was bringing a date, so I’m doing it.
    When I get to my Range Rover, I see that Grey has already loaded his board on the rack, but he’s nowhere to be seen.
    “Damn it.” I lift my board up next to his, snapping it in.
    When the shit hit