A Symptom of Love (GERI Labs #1)

12. Realizations

12

Realizations

E leanor opens Professor Kowalski’s lab door and lets herself in, marveling at the sight of his lab equipment—an incredible abundance of machines and kit boxes she could only dream of, coming from her tightly budgeted PhD lab.

Wow, her PhD adviser was not joking when he said GERI labs enjoy ample funding.

Unlike The Harrington lab that is split into multiple rooms across a long hallway, Professor Kowalski’s lab is a one spacious open-concept unit, with his office strategically located inside it. And while her formal mentor and sponsor is Professor Harrington, most of her work will be done with Professor Kowalski—her main chosen collaborator. Which in a way makes him her informal, yet pretty important, second mentor. And seeing his impressively equipped lab, Eleanor hopes to be able to conduct as much of her research as possible in this space.

“Good morning,” she says to a girl sitting at a central lab bench, who’s messing with one of those infinitesimal 384- well plates. Eleanor’s PhD lab only used 96-well plates, thank goodness. Trying to pipette anything into these tiny wells make her feel old and like she potentially needs glasses.

“Morning,” the girl responds bleakly without turning her head. Remembering which well to pipette into is a confusing enough task, Eleanor can definitely relate. So without further ado, she continues her stroll through the lab benches and amazingly organized reagent shelves. And yes, looks like each bench has its own set of Gilson pipettes. There are surely more expensive brands, but for Eleanor it’s a dream come true.

Her very own scientific heaven!

There’s a door leading to a computer lab, where she spots the enthusiastically waving Alannah with a few other fellows crunching data. She waves back at her, matching the energy. Eleanor will make sure to bother them and introduce herself later, but first she has a meeting with her new professor, and she’s already VERY fashionably late.

The door to Professor Kowalski’s office is labeled clearly with his name and title on it and a ‘by appointment only’ sign, referring any unsolicited incomers to Mrs. Tara Jones, her new ally.

Since Eleanor technically has a meeting with him—although looking at her watch it would be more accurate to say had a meeting with him—and mostly since scary warning signs on office entryways don’t intimidate her, she knocks on the door. Professor Kowalski will have to get used to her. She doesn’t do appointments. A risk he’s taken on himself once he took on the collaborator role and co-signed some of her paperwork.

“Come in,” she hears a voice from inside, her imagination willing itself to believe it’s a familiar one, for an obscure reason.

Eleanor opens the door to find it weirdly occupied by—

“Aiden?!”

He’s sitting at Professor Kowalski’s desk as if he’s taken over the throne, wearing a light blue button-down shirt layered under a gray sweater and topped with a lab coat. His hair is combed back, and he looks serious and important and stunning as ever.

What is he doing here?

Seeing Aiden’s handsome face chases away all traces of first day and new place anxieties, which Eleanor typically never has, but started experiencing this morning, after her little chat with Mrs. Tara Jones.

Aiden looks up, his serious blue eyes brightening as he sees her. His lips curl to this beautiful, rare, lop-sided smile. “Hey!” he says and rises from Professor Kowalski’s chair, looping his arm around her waist, pulling her in for a kiss.

He looks surprised, pleasantly surprised. And admittedly—putting aside her plan to keep him out of her life and mind—it feels good to be wrapped in his arms again. And despite planning that kiss at her doorstep to be a one-time thing, she can’t help but claim this handsome guy to herself again. Aiden does not complain, just pulls her closer, annihilating her with another kiss. Whatever force was wrapping them together on that New Year’s Eve night, it’s very much still here, growing stronger by the second, taking on a life of its own, consuming everything in their surroundings.

So much for a small kiss to chase away unrealistic expectations.

Another one of her failed hypotheses. But hey, good science has to come with a wide repertoire of failed experiments.

“So you couldn’t get away from me after all?” he asks, quite pleased with himself.

“Well, actually I’m supposed to meet my collaborator here, I’m a little late,” she says, stunned by her refusing-to-subside sensations. “What are you doing here?”

“I work here,” he says, confused.

“ You’re a scientist? Why didn’t you say anything?”

Yeah, why didn’t he mention it?

“You pretty much insisted on changing the subject every time I tried to mention science. Not everyone likes to talk science outside of work, I respect that.”

“I assumed you were a… drummer.” She tries to piece the information together. “My ex hated it when I talked science with him, I was trying to spare—"

“You assumed I was a drummer?” He gives her an amused look. “A scientist making assumptions without collecting data?”

“I was collecting data! Still am, obviously. You were playing the drums, at a club, quite well actually…”

And doing these sexy drumming moves with his hands occasionally, and some additional things that kind of sent her mind into… other places.

“Thanks,” he says bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck.

Now that she thinks of it, he may have given out some hints— ‘that’s what made me fall in love with science’ for instance, should have been quite obvious. But she had systematically dismissed every single one of them.

“And you know, after sharing that steamy moment,” Eleanor decides to deflect, watching Aiden’s mouth curve up in that sexy way of his into a beam, “I now realize, I don’t even know your last name.”

“Interestingly, I’ve come to realize the same thing,” he chuckles.

“Okay, you go first.”

“Nice to officially introduce myself.” He lets go of her waist and takes her hand in feigned formality. “I am Aiden Ko—“

The door opens in his mid-sentence attempt and Mrs. Jones’s head peeks in.

“Oh, Dr. Benjamin,” Tara says into the room. “I see you’ve found Professor Kowalski. Excellent choice by the way, Professor Kowalski, I really like our new postdoc.” She gestures with her head to Eleanor, giving her a broad smile, then pulls her head back out and closes the door. Leaving the two of them gaping, shocked.

Aiden coughs and appears to be choking. Reaching for a water bottle on his desk, he takes a sip, then takes a deep breath, then another sip, then resorts back to being shocked.

Well, the term ‘shocked’ wouldn’t do it justice. On the verge of losing his mind may very well be an understatement.

Realizations are important moments, of course. Eleanor can’t say they aren’t, it’s always better to know all the facts over… what’s the alternative? Not knowing? Relatively speaking of course, because there will always be new facts to uncover, that’s how science works.

Yeah, well, maybe just for this one instance, they would have been better off not knowing all the currently available facts. This specific realization is just too groundbreaking. Quite profound really.

Aiden looks dumbfounded. Or rather… horrified. Which is a pretty accurate depiction of how she probably looks too.

Her jaw drops, as more comprehensive realization hits her. She might need to pick it up from the floor sometime after the shock dissipates and once she regains control over her body. But right now, she’s not sure when that would be.

Perhaps not today.

“Tell me you have a twin brother,” is her potential breakthrough resolution.

“Why?”

“So I know I didn't just kiss my professor,” she mumbles.

“You did just kiss your professor. Regardless of whether or not I have a twin brother, which I don’t.”

And here she’d thought that him being a drummer could pose a potential issue. Why hadn’t she done the video interview thing before committing to this collaboration? Why didn’t she google-image Professor Kowalski while she’d frantically downloaded every single one of his papers?

How had this small yet significant detail escaped them?

Perhaps PubMed should start adding author photos next to each publication…

“Okay, breathe Ellie.” Aiden’s voice shakes her out of wherever she was. Now he just looks concerned, a little like the way he looked at her in the airport.

She feels a drop on her hand and that metal taste in her mouth. Blood.

No, not again.

Before she has a chance to think, Aiden—or actually Professor Kowalski, she should start getting herself used to it—pulls a pack of tissues from his desk drawer and puts a bunch against her nose.

Might as well make it a habit.

“Sit,” he orders in a hot, commanding voice as his arms help her to a chair. “Does that happen often?”

She shakes her head. “It only happened once, at the airport, when I fell into your—"

“It’s the dry air. Winters here are dry.” Aiden… Urgh… Professor Kowalski’s voice is meant to be soothing, but right now she’s anything but soothed.

They sit there like that—Eleanor, helpless on the chair, Aiden, kneeling on the floor between her knees, his one hand holding the tissue against her nose, his other hand supporting her head. They were so close together just a couple of days ago that this level of intimacy still feels legit.

And sexy as ever.

And with every slight move of his arm to grab another tissue, her breath hitches. And if it wasn’t for her bloody nose, professor or not, she would reach out and kiss him. Because in light of this new information, God knows if she’ll ever get another chance to be this close to him again.

“Looks like it stopped,” Aiden says eventually. “Are you okay?” He brushes a hair strand off her face and gently tucks it behind her ear. She presses her cheek to his palm and lets it linger, enjoying the touch of his skin for what might be the last time.

“How can you seriously ask if I’m okay?” Eleanor’s voice comes out a little rusty. “In the last ninety minutes I found out that one of my professors is a dinosaur who probably doesn’t think women should have the right to vote, much less have an academic career. Definitely not in his lab. And then I find out that my other professor is the hot sex-God I badly wanted to bang…”

“Fuck.” He gets up and starts pacing across his office. Looking exasperated and flattered and… helpless, all at once. As if this new revelation is resurfacing for the first time, again.

Looks like it might be coming in waves, for both of them.

“Okay, you prefer fuck over bang, fine. But I guess now I need to store my smutty fantasies about you for like… forever.”

“I—No, I meant it as…“ He rubs the back of his neck, ”well, this goes for the both of us.” He stops behind his desk, attempting to put some distance between them. His eyes lower. “You have blood on your blouse.”

“So much for first-day impressions,” she jokes dismissively. Among her list of current concerns, walking around with a few blood stains on her shirt seems insignificant. But Aiden has taken off his lab coat and is now pulling his sweater off his head in a swift motion. His dress shirt underneath hikes up, exposing a set of enticing abs.

Goodness gracious. Undressing this guy is still a prominent thought.

She should look away, but hey…

“Take it off.” He pulls at the hem of her blood-stained shirt. His commanding tone throws her back into that lustful moment against the wall in her apartment.

Damn.

“You’ll be cold with just your shirt. And I’m not taking your clothes again,” she tries to resist the temptation.

“Not an option. I’m not letting you walk around campus like this. You can return my sweater tomorrow, at 8 a.m. when you come to our first 1:1. And be on time.”

“Yes sir, Professor Kowalski,” She smiles mischievously, stripping off her blouse in front of this hot guy. Slowly. The tortured look on his face as his darkening eyes linger on her naked torso is irresistible.

“Don’t call me that. And please put my goddamn sweater on already, I’m having a hard time controlling myself as it is,” he grumbles.

“You’re the one who told me to take mine off,” she chuckles and puts on his sweater. It’s warm—still possessing his body heat. And his core-melting scent.

Smile-sigh…

It does look like she’s wearing her man’s sweater, but it’s stylish. Worn over her skinny jeans and boots, she might be able to pull it off.

Her man’s sweater. Gosh, she has to start getting these intrusive mind-slipups under control.

“Happy?” she asks. His content look at the sight of her wearing his clothes again is tempting.

“I’d be happier not having unethical thoughts right now,” he huffs, then deflects. “You should go wash the blood off while it’s still fresh. Cold water, if you don’t want it to leave stains.”

“Thanks for the tip,” she says. “And the sweater.” She’s about to turn toward the door but there’s a nagging technicality on her mind. “By the way.” She takes a confrontational step closer. “Why did you introduce yourself as Aiden if your name is Andrew?”

“I go by my middle name. Andrew is just used formally,” he answers, clearly not startled by the proximity. Or the question. “According to my dad, Andrew was what he and my mom agreed on. But Aiden was my mom’s favorite name. And apparently, as a little kid, I was more inclined to respond to it.” By the tone of the last few beats, she can tell this is not a piece of data he lets out easily.

Little kid Aiden. Big, beautiful, inquiring blue eyes. She can picture it.

“Oh.”

And now that she’s managed to take her eyes off his lips, she does notice that his lab coat has ‘Kowalski’ embroidered above the left pocket. Something she completely missed when she walked into the office and let her tongue invade his mouth.

Tara’s words—‘people see what they want to see’—the woman was spot on!

Eleanor sighs deeply because it’s been a while since she’s taken an actual breath. “I can’t believe I almost fucked my collaborating professor. If it weren’t for Alannah walking in on us—” And as he shakes his head in response, another piece clicks into place. “That’s why she looked so stunned when she caught us making out!”

Aiden gives her a scolding look, wordlessly begging for a change of topic, the recollection making him look deliciously hungry.

Awkward silence. Eleanor doesn’t do silence.

“Can you show me around?” she decides to ask. Because staying away from this man is impossible. “Professor Harrington gave me a tour in his lab, introduced me to all the lab members—"

“You mean Mano gave you a tour, on behalf of Professor Harrington?”

“No, I mean what I say—Professor Harrington, in the flesh, gave me a walk-through. Despite his biased opinions on the entire female gender, he was surprisingly and unexpectedly kind.”

Aiden makes some kind of a coughing sound to that.

“Okay, now for your tour professor, I expect it to be no less enjoyable than Professor Harrington’s.”

“Don’t call me professor,” Aiden warns. Rising from his seat. “Now, shall we?” He moves past her and opens the door. “Welcome to the Kowalski lab.”

Aiden shows her around the lab. The benches, the instruments, the perfectly organized shelves of reagents, the freezers, tissue culture room—yes, his lab has its very own tissue culture room!

“Gone are the days of signing up for a time slot at the hood!” She can’t hide her excitement.

They stop by the bathroom for her to wash the blood off her shirt, then spread it over the vents in his office to dry. Then continue the tour.

“Your own dark room?! No fucking way!” She can’t hide her surprise as they step into the revolving door. “This is heaven.” A cushioned budget is a superb thing! She spins twice before jumping in the dark room, spreading her limbs, and losing her balance, landing in Aiden’s arms again.

This time on purpose.

“I may have found a possible bypass to what’s considered appropriate lab behavior,” she whispers.

Aiden just looks at her from up close, trying to bite down an impending smile but failing miserably.

“Despite all the complications,” he says quietly after making sure they’re alone, “I think I’m going to enjoy having you around.” She can feel his warm breath on her face before he releases her from his embrace.

“You will, I promise.” She grins.

“We have lab meetings every Wednesday at 7:30 a.m. And journal clubs on the first Thursday of each month at 2 p.m.”

“Seven-thirty a.m.?!” she chokes.

“Bright and early.”

“A morning person. Should have known.” And then, bringing her head closer to his ear she adds, “Hmmm. Didn’t take you for the tormenting bossy type.”

“You have no idea.”

They walk back to the open space. “This is going to be your bench for when you run experiments in my lab.” He points to the spot closest to his office. How fitting. “And here is the computer room.” He opens the door to where all of the other fellows are bunched at the moment. All seem pretty focused on typing or reading papers or staring at data points.

“Hello!” Eleanor says loudly. Four heads turn toward her, Alannah amongst them, attempting a neutral I’ve-never-seen-these-guys-making-out-in-my-hallway expression. And then trying to hide another knowing look as her eyes narrow on Aiden’s sweater. Eleanor smiles broadly at her, willing her to park these thoughts away, then waves at the others. “I’m Eleanor.”

“This is Dr. Benjamin, the new postdoc at the Harrington lab, and our new collaborator for the autoimmunity project,” Aiden announces formally. “This is Dr. Yan Dimitrov, our staff scientist.” He points to a tall guy in the farthest corner. “Ms. Zoe Holland is a PhD candidate.” That’s the one who was focused on pipetting earlier. Even when idling she seems unfriendly. “Dr. Finn Anderson, who will soon be finishing his postdoc and leave us for greener pastures.” Aiden gestures to the guy standing to his right. “And you know Dr. Alannah Meyser already,” Aiden tenses, giving Alannah an apprehensive look, not sure how this is going to go. Alannah nods with a your-secret-is-safe-with-me reassurance.

Wow, Aiden is really into this last name thing.

“Very nice to meet you all.” Eleanor smiles brightly.

“Nice to meet you too.” Yan shakes her hand. Zoe doesn’t look too pleased, might be a resting face thing, but nods politely.

“Very nice to meet you,” says Finn. He shakes her hand warmly, holding her gaze slightly longer.

“Same here.” She smiles.

He’s tall, although not as tall as Aiden, and looks more like a surfer than a scientist really, with dirty blond tousled hair, green eyes, and a nice tan despite the D.C. winter. Not her bad-boy drummer type, but undoubtedly someone who’d normally make her heart thump a little harder, head turn a little longer. Except not today. It does absolutely nothing to her. No bristling, not even a single goose bump out of place. Stable heart rate.

Is she broken or something?

And instead of wanting to stare at Finn, she has to battle an urge to steal a glimpse at Aiden.

Shit.

Aiden clears his throat, sending a minuscule warning glare at Finn. “This is your work station.” He gestures to Eleanor, conveniently picking out the farthest computer from Finn, next to the unfriendliest Zoe. Then summons his commanding tone. “Let’s continue your tour.”

Hmmm…

The tour ends at the coffee machine in the lunch room. Aiden’s still lost in thoughts, while Eleanor’s wishing she had a glimpse into said thoughts and also trying to process the new information and form some sort of a plan. But plans don’t typically form themselves. One of them will have to eventually take the lead on this incredibly complex crafting task. And not that this will get them any further in this activity, but another realization comes to mind.

“OH MY GOD!” Eleanor unintentionally lets out her best excitement scream, covering her mouth with her hand.

From the way Aiden winces, he’s not sure this was a happy scream.

“Are you okay?” Mrs. Jones, who’s just entered the room with her empty mug turns her head in concern. “Professor Kowalski, what did you do to her?!”

Oh, he could have done wonderful, wonderful things, if not for Alannah’s interruption.

“I wish I had something to do with it, but I can’t take credit,” he grunts.

“Your dad is Professor Gordon Kowalski?!” Eleanor finally lets them in on her unique association process.

“Obviously.”

“ THE Professor Gordon Kowalski?! I think I probably own every single one of the biochemistry textbooks he’s written, memorized his theories… I’m a fan!”

“Oh yes, his father is a big-shot scientist,” Mrs. Jones explains. “Well, the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree.” She gives Eleanor a wink, then fills up her mug and retreats, leaving them alone again.

Alone to ponder over the original realization.

Yeah, that one…

“Perhaps I should have googled you before accepting that collaboration offer,” Eleanor says playfully.

“You never googled me? So much for doing your homework beforehand.”

“Clearly, I was looking for a collaborator, not a husband. I read every single one of your papers inside and out. I already knew you are a brilliant scientist, why would I care about how you look? And it also appears you hadn’t done much googling either.”

“Well, I guess you have a point.”

Despite the overly healthy vegan breakfast made and served to her by Alannah, but mostly because of not being able to eat anything since, Eleanor’s stomach starts giving out the usual hunger signals.

“You need to eat something,” Aiden says in a tone that sounds more like a command than anything else. Yes, the loud rumbling has officially made its way to his ears.

“I do. And then I have a bunch of orientation and lab safety trainings to partake in at Professor Harrington’s lab. So yeah, have a great day!” She slaps on the best smile she can gather and turns to leave.

“Not so fast.” He grabs her by the hand. “We need to have an actual conversation.”

“O-kay,” she says, enjoying his touch-induced sparks. “I’ll be here tomorrow for the early morning 1:1 you’ve planned for us. After I’m well-fed from Alannah’s fabulous breakfast, and possibly fed up with my newly discovered prejudiced Professor Harrington. Note to self—it’s not enough to know someone’s science out and in to determine whether they should be one’s boss.”

“You’ll be fine. I trust that you’ll successfully rebut all of his biases. If there’s anyone on earth capable of doing that, it would be you,” he says with impressive certainty.

Hopefully he’s right.

“Eight a.m. tomorrow. Don’t be late.”