A Symptom of Love (GERI Labs #1)

9. Happy New Year

9

Happy New Year

“ A re you always this serious?” Eleanor asks as they drive quietly. The urban views are gradually replaced by countryside.

Since Aiden picked her up from her apartment, they’ve been in the same idle status; Eleanor—mostly stealing glances at Aiden from the passenger seat of his SUV, still wondering whether last night’s phone call was his girlfriend or his wife, or someone else altogether, and why on earth he’s choosing to spend the last day of the year with her instead of whoever was calling him. Aiden—busying himself driving and doing imaginary sexy drumming moves with his hands to the rhythm of the music playing on the radio. Looking handsome in jeans and a sweater, wearing shoes that look slightly too elegant to align with the local bar’s drummer look he had last night. His dark hair is slightly tousled, his deep blue eyes alluring as ever, his jawline displaying traces of I-don’t-shave-on-weekends-or-holidays stubble. His expression serious. Looking—

Damn, she can’t avoid admitting—hot.

“Serious?” he returns the question she almost forgot she asked before her mind started drifting away.

“Yes, serious.”

“Haven’t thought about it. Probably my resting face,” he answers. “Just thinking. That’s what I do.” His last night’s almost-playful mood is gone. Her last night’s spite has also dissolved.

Focus. No flirting with a guy that may be taken.

“What about?”

Just making conversation.

“Work mostly. Are you always so talkative?” His tone is slightly amused. He doesn’t seem to mind the mini interrogation.

“In my family, I’m considered the quiet one.” She smirks.

“Hmmm,” he says, and his lips may be battling an urge to curve up.

“I see you trying to smile there, no need to fight it,” she says, poking his arm gently with her finger. “You can think and smile simultaneously. I do it all the time. I can imagine it might be hard to smile while controlling your beats. Maybe you should consider science as a career instead.”

“Maybe.” He steals a quick look in her direction. And now it finally appears, that gorgeous shy smile that was so worth waiting for.

“There you go!” she says. A rare, hard-to-resist smile. It makes something flutter inside her.

Maybe she shouldn’t encourage it.

Her phone buzzes in her bag and she pulls it out. “I hope you’re on your way to get an actual winter coat,” is her mom’s WhatsApp message in Hebrew. Something catches Aiden’s eye as he glances at her phone while stopping at a red light.

“Yes, Ima, thanks to you,” Eleanor texts back in Hebrew. “And please stop texting Aiden, I came here to work, despite Savta’s plot to get me a husband.”

“You can find a husband and work at the same time,” her mom responds. “Have fun sweetheart!”

“Urgh,” Eleanor grunts and puts her phone back in her bag. “My mom, just making sure her plans are being executed.” Her gaze carries itself to the blue in his eyes, another smile. Subtle perhaps, but there is no mistaking here.

“What?” she asks, because he seems overly content.

“I like your wallpaper,” Aiden says, gesturing to her phone. “Secretly looking at our photo together?”

Shit. She wasn’t supposed to see him again, and he certainly wasn’t supposed to see that.

“I wouldn’t call it secretly ,” she says boldly. “Besides, you’re the one who secretly took it.” That’s it, offense is the best form of defense.

“I was just trying to alleviate your mom’s concerns. And it’s a selfie, how secret can selfies be?”

“Apparently I have a special talent for appearing in selfies without noticing,” she explains what he probably already knows. “And I have to admit, it’s a good picture, and you’re almost smiling in it, so it’s worth keeping.”

“Almost smiling?” He curves one eyebrow at her.

“Don’t worry, we’ll work on it, I might even get to hear you laugh.”

Aiden laughing—why does that feel so desirable?

“Okay,” he just says. And of course her brain decides to take on the challenge.

“So where are we going?”

“An outlet mall in Maryland, they have several stores that sell good winter coats. Are you looking for something more on the fancy side or practical?”

“Practical of course. Not that I have much experience with coats, but fancy is not really my thing.”

“I’m with you on this,” he says as he pulls into a huge parking lot.

“What kind of coat are you looking for?” a salesperson with a cute name tag asks. After getting overwhelmed with clothing possibilities and heat terms Eleanor never knew existed, she decides to ask for help.

“Something for extreme sports,” she explains.

“Exciting!” What kind of extreme sport do you do?” Janna with the name tag asks, eyes quickly scanning Eleanor’s appearance, trying to guesstimate whether it’s snowboarding or glacier climbing they’re talking about.

“Walking outside,” Eleanor answers, trying to smother her laughter as Aiden snorts quietly beside her. “What?” She smiles over her shoulder, meeting his blue eyes. “You have no idea how adventurous walking in this weather is for me!”

“I got you,” Janna offers, somewhat disappointed, but handing Eleanor a coat that looks pretty darn fit for the task. She then gives Aiden a once-over and a flirty smile, which he—very obliviously—doesn’t reciprocate.

“I think it’s love at first sight,” Eleanor says, trying on the jacket.

Aiden gives her a quizzical look.

“The coat. I love it! Never taking it off,” she clarifies.

“This should keep you warm,” he approves. “How about gloves? Snow boots?”

“Snow boots?” She can’t hide her excitement. “Does it snow here during winter?” She hasn’t really had the chance to experience fresh snow before. Not in Tel Aviv. And traffic to Jerusalem gets so bad when, and if, it starts to snow, that the chances of seeing anything but ice, coming from Tel Aviv, are usually pretty low.

“Looks like you haven’t done much homework on your new location.” Another smirk.

“I’ve done the important part of the homework—choosing my mentors. But snow is a very nice bonus.”

“What size are you in boots?” He leads them to the back of the store.

“How would I know? Is it the same as normal shoes? Probably thirty-nine, which is what here—eight?”

“Possibly, take off your shoes,” he commands, handing her a box.

She does as she’s told, liking the controlling tone, and helps herself into the most comfortable, fuzzy pair of boots.

“How do you even tie these things up?” She wrestles with the laces.

Aiden shakes his head and kneels before her, lacing up her boots.

Tying shoes never felt this sensual before.

“Wow! These are majestic. My very own snow boots!” Eleanor perks up, but really is just trying to hide this unexpected tingling. “Ready for the snow!” she says, striding over to the register with her new treasures. Aiden grabs snow gloves and a warmer winter hat than the one she already owns. Then he pulls out his wallet.

“Uh-uh,” Eleanor pushes his hand back. “You’re not paying for my stuff!”

“Why not?” Aiden looks surprised, hurt even.

“Is that another one of my mom’s ideas? I can afford to pay for my own shopping. You can buy me lunch.” She shoves her credit card into the hands of the helplessly confused Janna behind the counter.

“I really like this new coat, and the boots!” Eleanor says happily, a couple hours later, as they walk out of the pizza restaurant that was conveniently located just outside the coat store. A full stomach, a nice toasty coat, snow boots, gloves. And this handsome guy by her side. He might seem serious two-hundred percent of the time, but she can already tell the difference between his serious-serious to his almost-smiling-serious and his on-the-verge-of-almost-laughing-serious. They stride lazily between shops. Holiday music is playing through the outdoor speakers, and colorful decorations are all around.

And it could be the fact that she’s experiencing this kind of holiday spirit for the first time in her life—maybe it’s like this for everyone—or maybe because Aiden is walking by her side. But the atmosphere feels enchanting, almost magical.

That is, until a ringtone sound breaks the spell and Aiden pulls out his phone from the back pocket, apologizing and taking the call. She can hear the same female voice from last night, Kim, his potential girlfriend. Calling. That’s what girlfriends do. But Aiden not taking his eyes off Eleanor while chatting on the phone with the girl—that’s not what boyfriends do. So Eleanor steps aside to give him some privacy, and busies herself looking through the window of the closest store she can find. Which happens to be a jewelry store, with a giant engagement ring at the very front.

No, not her intention.

She quickly moves to the next window. A flower shop.

Urg…

“I’m sorry,” Aiden says when he reappears behind her after a short moment that somehow felt like forever. His hand gently touches her back and despite the layers of clothes, she feels this pleasant buzz taking over again.

No, where is the reset button?

“You need to go,” she concludes, trying to will her misfiring neurons to calm down. “No worries, mission was successfully accomplished.” Plus, it’s time to say an actual goodbye and let him go back to his pre-Eleanor life. And for Eleanor to go back to whatever. In a couple of days, GERI will reopen and she’ll finally be able to get into the lab. Her new lab. And dive back into her science. And then life will be good again.

But instead of executing this much-anticipated goodbye or putting that much-needed distance between them, he asks, “Would you mind if we make a stop on our way back?”

And instead of the polite, ‘No need, I’ll Uber home, you’re free to go,’ that should have come out of Eleanor’s mouth, all she manages is a dazed “Sure.”

Seriously? This enchanting holiday spirit is really messing up with her head. Either that, or she can blame it on the mysterious concussion she hasn’t really recovered from, apparently.

So now they’re in his car again, driving to God knows where.

“I’ll wait here,” Eleanor offers when Aiden finally pulls over by a small single house in a nice neighborhood.

“Oh, no you’re not,” he says, stepping out and opening her door to make sure he’s made his point.

“O-kay,” she says, reluctantly peeling herself off the passenger seat. He wants her to meet his girlfriend? Is that one of those open relationship kinds of arrangements? Eleanor doesn’t do relationships, not closed and definitely not open. But Aiden looks certain, and mostly just… pleading. Which somehow comes across to her as endearing, therefore, for a change, she decides to follow.

They walk slowly down the little path leading to the house and up three stairs. The front yard has a little herb garden with—judging by the unmistakable childhood-memories-provoking scent—mint. A lot of mint. Fresh mint! She should take some home for tea. If Aiden’s girlfriend lets her back out with her head intact, that is.

Aiden pushes the front door and gestures for her to go in. She takes a deep breath, trying to decide how to introduce herself, what to say, what not to say.

“Aiden! Thanks for coming so quickly.” A woman, maybe slightly older than Aiden, walks toward them, “I have to run back to work. There’s something about heart attacks and holidays,” she murmurs but stops when she spots Eleanor.

“Hello, I’m Kim,” she says, holding her hand out to Eleanor. A wide grin appears on her face.

Could this get any more awkward?

“This is Ellie,” Aiden says. She expected he’d sound apprehensive, but he doesn’t. “Ellie, this is my sister, Kim.”

Sister. Not girlfriend. Sister.

Relief. And then a sudden flood of something entirely different. Hope? Anticipation?

What? Where did that come from?

“Nice to meet you.” Eleanor takes her hand.

“Very nice to meet you! Finally, my little brother brings a girl home!” Kim’s smile broadens. Aiden tries to say something, but Kim moves on quickly. “Sorry I have to run, I have patients waiting. The nurse will be here in about an hour. Dad is in the living room—he’s having a good day, but he refuses to eat his lunch, says he doesn’t like my cooking.” Kim throws her hands in the air. “Don’t let him tempt you into adding salt.” She gives her brother a warning look, then pats him on the shoulder, sends a friendly wink to Eleanor, and leaves.

“For the record, I’m thirty-five years old, not that little,” Aiden huffs, still lingering on his sister’s comment.

“And you’ve never brought a girl home?” She takes the opportunity, seeing as they’re still huddled by the door, and taps her hand on his chest, surprised, yet again, by the unyielding feel of his muscles.

“Haven’t in a while.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Not since my last relationship mistake.”

As the master of relationship mistakes, Eleanor can definitely relate.

“Don’t date much?”

“Just no one significant enough to bring home.”

“Oh, I’m flattered! First you let me land in your lap, you clean my bloody nose, you fix my heating system, take me coat shopping, and then I get to meet the fam!” Eleanor chuckles. “That’s what I call significant .”

This makes him smile. An actual smile.

Whoa!

“Now I’d like to meet your dad please,” she says, and walks herself into the direction of what she hopes is the living room. Aiden follows slowly.

His dad is an older version of Aiden, same eyes, almost the same facial features. He’s seated on the sofa by the television, wearing one of those old-fashioned tweed jackets with a white linen shirt and a tie underneath. There’s something in the air about him that reminds her of one of her late professors from graduate school, a brilliant scientist and mentor who sadly passed away about a year ago.

“Hello,” he says formally when he sees Eleanor, getting up from his seat to shake her hand.

“Nice to meet you, professor,” she guesses. “I’m Ellie.”

“A pleasure to meet you Ellie, I’m Gordon.” His handshake is firm, just like Aiden's.

“Hi Dad.” Aiden closes in, lowering his head to kiss his dad’s forehead, his arm gently brushing her shoulder.

“Good to see you, son,” Gordon says. Then turns back to Eleanor. “Are you one of my students?” A flash of confusion crosses his face as he speaks.

Eleanor gently shakes her head. “No. But I am a student.”

“Finally, some academic company,” Gordon says warmly and gestures for her to sit. “And you make my son happy,” he adds on a whisper.

Looks like her guess may have been spot on.

“Dad, I’m going to get you something to eat.” Aiden’s voice sounds worried. “Ellie?” he says in a half question, unsure whether she’d want to join him. She gives him a happy nod in response, staying right where she is. She misses her family so much right now, and the thought of spending some time with Aiden’s dad is comforting.

“Ellie is fine here with me.” Gordon waves Aiden out. “My kids think I’m a four-year-old. I might be old, but I can still read scientific papers, you know? Instead of these shallow TV shows.”

“What do you like to read?” Eleanor starts to mentally go through potential reading material options. “What field of science?”

“I’m a biochemist,” he says, smiling modestly,

“Really? Me too! I might have some good stuff for you to read.” She opens her backpack and pulls out the pile of papers she’s finished reading but still takes everywhere with her. “Here,” she says, handing a few to him.

Gordon pushes his glasses up his nose and looks through them, skimming the headers of the manuscripts.

“They are not all new, but should keep you busy for a few hours,” she offers.

“Kowalski.” He points to the last author of the first paper in the stack.

Yes, most of these papers are either the latest publications of Professor Andrew Kowalski, her newly chosen collaborator and unofficial mentor, or the latest publications of Professor Jim Harrington, her newly chosen mentor. Reading all their papers in detail, familiarizing herself with their data and theories inside and out, is good practice before selecting mentors. She’s definitely done her homework.

“Already highlighted for you.” She points to her colorful highlights throughout the text.

“Thank you for these!” Gordon says, bringing the papers close to his heart to show his gratitude. “Are you a scientist?”

“Yes, a biochemist,” she says, and he nods, but when Aiden steps back into the room, Gordon puts down the papers and covers them with a large photography book. “He doesn’t like it when I read his paper,” Gordon half-whispers.

What does he mean by ‘his papers?’

“Dad, I warmed up some soup for you, you have to eat.” Aiden interrupts their discussion. “Do you want to come to the kitchen, or would you like to eat here?”

“This no-salt diet is ridiculous. Everything tastes bland—the curse of high blood pressure, torturing old people,” Gordon huffs, looking to Eleanor for rescue.

“I got you,” she says. Then gets up and walks into the kitchen.

“We have to watch his salt intake,” Aiden warns, blocking her way to the stove.

“We will.” She moves forward, letting herself bump into him. He doesn’t back up. “Spoon?” she asks.

“Here.” He reaches behind her, pulling out a spoon from one of the drawers and handing it to her. As he lowers his head, his lips hover over hers almost accidentally, but neither of them moves or takes a step back. The only hint of the insane electricity that seems to surround them is his accelerating breathing. Or is it hers?

Without breaking eye contact, she takes the spoon, dips it in the bowl of soup and brings it to her mouth.

“Uh… No wonder he doesn’t want to eat, have you tried it?” Her voice is a rough whisper. And without waiting for a response, she dips the spoon into the soup again, blows on it softly and feeds it to Aiden.

Who thought salt-less, taste-less soup could up her blood pressure so quickly?

His eyes hold hers before he says, “You’re right, it’s missing a lot of salt.”

“No, it’s missing flavor. Salt just helps cover lack of flavor.” She empties the bowl back into the pot. “Now, where does your dad keep the spices?”

“I can’t believe you made my dad eat. And like it too!” Aiden says in admiration when they’re back in his car. As if she’s just single-handedly run a year's worth of successful experiments and gotten a paper accepted into Nature , or Science , or both.

“It was a good soup, just needed some spices, and some more cooking, and a bit more ingredients. But once we got that out of the way…” Another smile. A third, maybe even a fourth real smile from Aiden for the day—and she cannot be blamed for counting. One in the kitchen, when she almost kissed him, one when Aiden’s dad complimented the improved soup, one when he told Aiden he would not let him in again without Eleanor. And counting.

“Also,” she tries to tread carefully, “I may be overstepping here but I think your dad needs some more stimulation—he told me he’s a biochemist? I gave him some papers to read, and he was SO grateful. He’s frustrated, watching too much TV.”

“Ellie, my dad has Alzheimer’s. Today was a good day. He’s on an experimental treatment, as part of a clinical trial, which has been giving us a lot of these good days.” He sighs. “But for the most part, he doesn’t remember much of his science anymore and he gets frustrated when he realizes it.” That may explain why he thought these were Aiden’s papers. “We have nurses around him almost 24/7. Kim and I split the rest of the time between us. I’m sorry, I should have said something earlier.”

“I’m so sorry,” is the first thing she can think of, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. “I didn’t know.”

She thinks back to the framed photos around the house. They only starred the three of them—Kim, Aiden and their dad, at various places and ages.

“Do you have other family members that could help?” It must be so hard, so much responsibility.

“It’s always been just the three of us. My mom died giving birth to me,” he says matter-of-factly.

Eleanor reaches out with her free hand to gently stroke his face. He leans his head into her touch, making her heart squeeze. She can’t imagine growing up without a big family tightly surrounding her ten-minute perimeter. Her massive support system.

“That’s okay.” He shakes off the heavy beat, but leaves their hands connected. “I had a happy childhood. I can’t complain. My dad’s a good man.” His expression is soulful. “Kim and I almost literally grew up in his lab. That’s what made me fall in love with science.”

Falling in love with science. Another relatable fact about him. Yet he chose to become a musician and not a scientist?

There’s so much more she wants to know about him. But she doesn’t ask, because the more she learns, the harder it gets to stay away from this man.

“I like your dad! Would it bother you if I came to visit him once in a while?”

It’s an outlet. A way to soften the blow of letting Aiden go. Or is it?

“Bother me?” He looks pleased with the proposition. “I’d love that. But you don’t have to do this for me, we have nurses coming every day, and Kim and I have the rest of it covered.”

“It’s not for you, it’s for me. I really miss my family.”

“And here I thought you were starting to like me.” He smirks, but his eyes are grateful. “And maybe we should find a way to keep him connected to science. He did appear happier than usual after I left him with you alone for five minutes.”

“Ha, he said the same about you.” Eleanor can’t help herself.

“Said what?” Aiden raises one eyebrow in what may as well be his signature look.

“That I make you happy.” And there it is, another smile.

Wow!

And there’s that incredible pull again. She shouldn’t let the intrusive thoughts in, but since they’ll be saying goodbye soon anyway, she allows herself to bask in them, just for a bit.

“Can I be completely open with you?” Eleanor asks as they stroll lazily toward her doorstep. It’s New Year’s Eve. The lab will open in a couple of days, and she can finally go back to work. But there’s this warm sensation building up in her core that is in total contradiction to her staying-apart plan. Her mind already brewing a brand-new hypothesis, in which unrealistic expectations may be harder to deal with than just a small kiss to chase away this… whatever this is exactly. Then they can go their separate ways.

Aiden nods severely. So she continues. “I’m not looking for anything serious. Not looking for anything period, actually. I came here to focus on my science. And I want to make sure I don’t lose sight of that,” she explains, unsolicited-ly.

Plus, this heart of hers can’t take any more beating. That is , if she wants these smooth muscle cells to keep her blood pumping.

“O-kay.” Aiden draws out, giving her an apprehensive look. “I appreciate you sharing this information with me.”

“I would have done it sooner, only I didn’t think it was relevant info with the girlfriend and all.” And when he returns a puzzled look she adds—“You know, with Kim calling you last night and today…”

“Kim, my sister?”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t think she was your sister until today.” Her eyes hold his gaze. “Anyway, that being said…” She takes a step closer. “I just find you so hard to resist. Maybe it’s the drumming thing, or your eyes, or this smile that you don’t let show. I’m not sure. And I’m not the one-time-fling-thing type either, so I’d better say goodnight now,” she continues but despite her narrative (and rationale, where did it go anyway? ) her feet carry her another step closer. She can now feel his body heat. His serious blue eyes from up close are so darn stunning.

“Yeah, you’d better.” Aiden reaches out and gently tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, awakening that giant magnetic force.

And the butterflies, a brand-new wild swarm.

Gosh, his touch is mesmerizing.

“Would it be really terrible of me to do this ?” she asks, pulling on the collar of his coat so he has to lower his head to her level. From there all she has to do is close that last bit of gap between them and taste his lips. And it doesn’t take too long before he opens his mouth and lets her tongue explore, devour him.

“Not terrible at all,” he rasps between her little assaults. His hands slide beneath her jacket, reaching her back, pulling her into him, breathing her in. Her heart beats so insanely fast. Or is it his? She can’t tell anymore, already breathless, on the verge of needing an oxygen mask.

It was supposed to be a New Year’s Eve goodbye kiss, exploratory at best. It wasn’t supposed to feel this good.

Certainly wasn’t supposed to be sooo HOT.

In fact, Eleanor doesn’t recall kissing being such a heated activity, not even with Oren, and he was a legendary kisser.

Or so she thought.

This is quite… unusual. Unexpected. And just impossible to let go. And the fact that Aiden is a drummer doesn’t seem to cut it as a plausible explanation anymore.

She stops for a second to catch her breath and admire the damage. “You look a little shocked,” she pants. Perhaps projecting, because shocked only begins to describe how she feels.

“I’ve just never met anyone like you before,” he says, breathing as erratically as she is.

“Never met anyone with such a unique combination of awkward and quirky you mean? I bet you haven’t,” she giggles, and her mouth finds his lips again before he has a chance to respond. Her hands slide under his shirt, across his chest. She pulls him into her apartment, anxious for more of him.

This brings out a much welcome side of Aiden she hasn’t quite met yet. A ravenous side.

And… wow…

He kisses her fiercely, backing her up to the wall, trapping her tight against his body. His hands travel under her shirt, awakening thousands of goose bumps in their trail. His scent is her new drug, and she’s already addicted.

“Hmmm,” is her response to his growing hard-on.

“That’s your fault,” he chuckles, lifting her up, letting her thighs pull him in closer.

Science. She tries to remind herself. That’s why she’s here in the first place.

Why can’t she think of science right now? No, not that kind of science… It’s been so long.

An unexpected noise from the direction of the door makes their heads turn abruptly.

“Oh, was I interrupting anything? I’m Alannah, your roommate.” The person attached to the very cute voice holds out her hand as Aiden lets Eleanor lower her feet to the floor and stretches her shirt back to where it was before he had a say in it. Then turns away to adjust himself, looking somewhat… confused? “You must be Ellie. You go by Ellie, right?” Alannah asks, battling some awkwardness.

“Uh, right.” Eleanor smiles broadly—might as well. “Nice to finally meet you,” she says, shaking Alannah’s hand, trying to quiet her breathing. Her lips still burn from those hungry kisses. Five more minutes and this scene would have looked a whole lot different.

Talk about timing. Well, Alannah did mention she’d be back around New Year’s…

“This is Aiden,” Eleanor says, gesturing her hand to the guy she would have loved to undress, currently putting his coat back on.

“Aiden.” Her roommate repeats the name as if it’s the most unexpected scientific discovery of the year. Her face looks like she’s just simultaneously read through a long review paper on the science of sexual attraction and the logic behind conspiracy theories, if there was such a thing. Or trying to live down the heated scene she’s just walked herself into. “I’m Ellie’s roommate,” she says once she recovers.

“I see,” Aiden says in a weird formal tone, still transmitting a great degree of confusion. Or is it an expected reaction to the sudden drop of oxygen inflicted by the kiss? He contemplates for a moment and then adds in that same formality. “I’ll let you two get to know each other. Have a happy New Year.”