A Symptom of Love (GERI Labs #1)

20. Early Morning Lab Meetings

20

Early Morning Lab Meetings

E leanor has no idea what time it is. She opens her eyes into a bright sun-lit bedroom. From up close, eyes—bearing her favorite blue—are slowly opening, looking at her.

Aiden.

Their legs and arms are still tangled together. She has no particular desire to move or go anywhere. And that’s when realization strikes them both.

Shit.

“I’m sorry,” Aiden rasps beside her. Then winces at what must be his hangover headache. “I think I had way too many beers yesterday.” He rubs his eyes. “Did we…?” He looks under the blanket, finding himself in his boxers and her in his T-shirt and boxers too. Another pair of boxers, but still his.

“You think I’d take advantage of my drunk professor?” she says in mock shock. “I wouldn’t dare! Besides, if we did, I sure hope you would remember.”

He releases a low, scratchy laugh. Then takes a deep breath. “Thank you,” he says. Turning his face toward her. His eyes sincere. “For being there for me. For staying.” He sighs. “For holding on to me and not letting me break.”

And she would do it again. And again. And again. If he let her. Or pretty much anything else if he asked.

“Break? I don’t think you’re so easily breakable.” She runs her hand through his hair, and he closes his eyes. This unplanned proximity is like playing with fire.

“Last night was a special case.” He lets out a rough sigh.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she prods softly, “that it was your birthday yesterday?”

“I didn’t want to drag you into my own mud.” His voice is sad, regretful. “Ended up doing it anyway. I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing!” She holds a hand to his lips, indulging in the prickly sensation as she slides the tips of her fingers across the newly formed stubble on his jawline. “I am here for you because I want to be. But I can’t do much if you don’t talk to me.” A glimpse into the life of this broody handsome man. Aiden tries to untangle himself from her, but she’s not willing to let go. “Honesty. Remember?”

“It’s the one day a year I allow the guilt to sink in.” Solitary, disconsolate blue eyes are all she sees. “You’d think that after thirty-six years I’d be able to handle it better,” he sighs.

“You’re allowed to feel.” Her voice is a whisper. “To grieve.” Her hand doesn’t leave his face.

“I went to see my dad the other night. Some people call it ‘time-shifting,’ which sounds like a scene from a science fiction movie. More like a nightmare if you ask me. He was stuck in the past, some thirty-six years ago, re-living that day he had lost my mom. Losing her all over again. Fucking Alzheimer’s.”

“I’m sorry,” Eleanor says, squeezing in closer to him, trying to hug away his sadness. Unload some of the pain. Her head is resting on his bare chest, eyes turned up to look at him. His heart beating insanely fast.

“Then Dr. Anderson… Finn,” Aiden grunts, raking his fingers nervously through his dark hair. “He was planning to ask you out yesterday. Just an unfortunate collection of events tightly packed into one special day,” he sighs sardonically.

“That’s where the ‘ seeing other people’ bullshit came from?” Ideally her body language would be taking an active role in this discussion. She would be putting her hands on her waist and frown at him right now. But despite the words coming out of her mouth, her voice is soft, and not a single bone in her body is willing to move away.

He needs her.

“Did he?” Aiden demands, ignoring her question.

“He did,” she admits carefully, clearly aware that the storm hasn’t passed.

“And?” His face impassive.

“I said no. What did you think I’d say?”

Aiden sighs. “I was afraid he’d sweep you away.” He looks as if he’s just come up for air after keeping his head underwater for almost too long.

“Sweep me away? From what?”

Aiden swallows hard before he lets last night’s alcohol speak for him and says, “From me.” His face unreadable again.

“I’m not that easily sweepable. And unfortunately—although I wish it wasn’t the case because it would have made my life easier—being around Finn does absolutely nothing to me, Aiden.” She pauses to look at him.

He shuts his eyes, then opens them back up, then sighs deeply before he finally says, “Thank God.”

“Thank God?” she repeats, a little puzzled or just not letting the interpretation sink in yet.

“Despite what I said, I don’t think I can handle seeing you with someone else.” He runs a gentle hand along her cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. This strange buzz hits her like a lightning bolt.

“You really shouldn’t be saying things if you don’t mean them. It’s confusing. Also, I think the alcohol is not out of your system yet.” She rolls her eyes.

Because otherwise why would he cross into the feelings territory?

“And as I told you before,” she continues, aware of her already reduced conviction. “I’m not looking for a relationship. It’s a distraction, so you have nothing to worry about.”

“How can it be a distraction if we care about each other?” he asks, bringing her knuckles to his lips.

Oh sweet electricity.

“Well Professor Kowalski,” she teases, trying to lighten up the load of the conversation. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t that how distractions work?”

“You’re such a smartass.” His eyes finally brighten.

“And you don’t have to worry about me being with other people, because clearly…” She’s about to say before her brain catches up with her.

“Clearly what?”

“Well I haven’t been much into other people since… yeah.” End of sentence. Articulation is an important skill to have. And she’s officially lost it.

“Since— yeah ?” He furrows an eyebrow at her. A sexy look on him. The sparks that constantly surround them are now turning into fireworks.

“Since—yeah.” She nods.

Is she blushing? Seriously? Blushing is totally not her thing. Not ever.

“Say what you really think, remember your honesty rule?” he chides.

” This is what I really think.”

“ Yeah? Said by the brightest postdoc in my lab?” Is that a ghost of a smile on his face?

And a compliment!

“Yes, it’s part of my complex thought process,” she squeals.

A smothered burst of laughter comes out of him, summoning rainbows all around her. What she’d do to be able to hear this laugh over and over again. On repeat. “That’s not even a thought,” he determines.

“Since you…” she tries again, can’t bring herself to admit it.

“That’s progress, but I’m pretty sure your sentence is still missing a verb.”

“Since that day you took me shopping.”

“Took you long enough.” His entire handsome face is smiling.

“Well maybe when I saw you play at sigmaV.” She tries to date it back.

“Still, a while,” he says, his tone playful. One hundred and eighty degrees from how he is anywhere else, with everyone else. And she doesn’t want that to go away.

Ever.

“Okay, maybe when you wiped my bloody nose at the airport while snuggling me in your lap. A complete stranger. Most men would have probably run for their lives at that point.”

“Good. Because since that moment I haven’t been able to think of anyone else either,” he admits, that handsome smile still on his face.

Surely that’s the alcohol talking. Part of the hangover effect?

“But that was before you found out you’re my collaborator, and sort of my mentor,” she challenges.

“Ellie, with your exceptional biology knowledge, you should have, by now, come to the conclusion that not everything in life is reversible. It’s not something I can just switch on and off as I choose,” he says.

And somehow, distracting him with something else feels a million times safer than delving into feelings he might change his mind about later. And now that he’s still a bit loopy but not really drunk anymore…

She stretches her thigh around his waist, bringing her body to straddle him, feeling his morning wood pushing through their two sets of boxers, the only thing separating them now.

“Ellie, I’m not sure it’s a good idea,” he tries to reason, but his strained words end on a pent-up breath.

“I’m sure it isn’t,” she breaths, grinding her way along the warmth of his body.

“We shouldn’t,” he groans. “I don’t want you to do something you might regret later.”

“I don’t do regret,” she says, already addicted to his touch. She guides his hands under her shirt, bringing them to cup her breasts, letting his fingers take charge and stroke her nipples.

“You mean…” his breath hitches as he tries to get the words out, “you don’t do things that you might regret?”

“No, I just don’t regret doing the things I want,” she moans, her body already aflame. She lets herself disappear under the blanket, her lips lightly brushing the ridges of his ab muscles.

“Ellie … what are you doing?”

“Something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time,” she mumbles, pulling on the waistband of his boxers.

“Baby—“ he tries to protest, but his voice changes into a raspy grunt when she lets this incredibly hard throbbing length of him loose, stroking gently. “Fuck.” He groans audibly. “The things I want to do to you…” His loud breathing mixes with the sound of a phone alarm.

Her phone alarm…

Shit.

“Aiden,” she whispers, finding her way upward from under the blanket, until her mouth reaches his ear. Trying to suppress the impossible electrical currents running through her.

“Ellie,” he rasps into her ear, fingers tightening around her hips, keeping her close. “What’s the alarm for?” His voice a whisper.

“Hmmm,” she mumbles, “you might want to send out a cancellation email. Let your poor students get another hour of sleep.” She stops her beeping phone to show him the reminder. ‘My handsome mentor’s crazy early weekly lab meeting,’ it says. “Then come back here.”

“Ellie,” he grunts, painfully rolling himself off the bed, wincing. “I’ve been dreaming up this moment since the day you fell into my lap. I’m not going to ruin our first time with a hangover.”

“Saved by the bell,” she smirks, rolling her eyes at him. “You’re insufferable, you know that? Handsome, yes, but insufferable.”

“Oh, you are breaking all my rules and I make you suffer?” Aiden chuckles. A beautiful sound.

“Well, I guess you have a point. Just you wait.”

And did he just say ‘first time’ as in one of many?