Beautifully Complicated (Front Range University #4)

1. Aiden

Chapter one

Aiden

ONE MONTH LATER

T he tiny rainbow flag in the window snags my attention, and before I’ve consciously decided to step inside my hand is reaching for the door. My body must realize there’s no hope of sleep after such a stimulating night, and now that my brain has caught up, it agrees.

A few customers glance my way when the cool evening air follows me inside, but they go back to their drinks and conversations, paying me no mind. That deflates me a little—I wouldn’t decline some conversation—but I didn’t come here for a hookup either, just a drink in a friendly environment, and if that came with some light flirting, I wouldn’t object.

My obliterated heart isn’t ready for anything serious, but as the only single guy in our house, it is a little lonely.

Taking a seat at the mahogany bar, I order a whiskey, sipping on it as I reflect on my evening.

Kier Caldwell is the most fascinating man on the planet.

I’m probably one of few college students who think so seeing as how he’s not a famous athlete or a rockstar or an actor, but his mind is nothing short of genius, and—if I’m being shallow—he’s pretty easy on the eyes too.

His dark hair and bright eyes aren’t nearly as Irish-looking as you’d expect given his name, and there’s no trace of an accent that I can tell, but he’s got the beauty, the brains, and the most mesmerizing voice I’ve ever heard. Listening to him speak is so far the highlight of my young life. All twenty-two years of it.

The things he’s doing with AI to improve people’s lives is nothing short of revolutionary. I’m not talking about the cheat on your homework kind of improvement using programs that scrape copyright material to help people cut corners. I’m talking about innovative applications that will actually improve quality of life.

Keir is spearheading the movement to put AI in prosthetics to adjust and optimize their use. No more antiquated plastics that don’t have any function. No more fumbling limbs that are just as likely to frustrate as help. No more being held back because your artificial limbs can’t do what your real limbs could.

Okay, maybe that’s still in process, but Kier is getting us closer to that point. I mean, already AI sensors in prosthetics can interpret the electrical signals from the brain, helping those artificial limbs react to what you want them to do. But now he wants to combine nanotechnology with AI.

Imagine the biosensing nature of limbs made of nanomaterials combined with the sensory capabilities of AI powered prosthetics. Simply put, it’d be like replacing a limb with another limb!

I’m practically vibrating with the possibilities of it all.

When I decided to study computer science, I dreamed of doing something that would make a difference, although I sort of thought that would be more along the lines of helping medical professionals identify and treat diseases. Then I heard about how there was an initiative to put AI into prosthetic limbs, the ultimate goal being to get people back to the same standard of living they had before, and I quickly switched focus.

I’ve loved every second of my studies, learning how to combine hardware and software in a way that can improve one’s quality of life, but the idea that you could essentially mimic a real limb with a prosthetic one using nanotechnology and AI… My nerd brain is on overdrive.

Kier is so forward-thinking. So brilliant. Hearing him speak was a bucket-list item, though now I’m not sure once is enough. He’s just so… inspiring .

Not for the first time, I wish I had someone I could talk to about this. Someone who could understand what I’m saying, which sadly, most of my friends don’t. I have to simplify everything to the most basic of ideas and concepts, and even then I usually have to resort to sci-fi comparisons before my friends truly comprehend my excitement.

I once described what Kier’s doing as building a real-life version of Luke Skywalker’s bionic arm when Bennet and I…

Shit. What was that, a whole thirty minutes without thinking of him?

I take a larger than recommended sip of whiskey, wiping my mouth with the back of my wrist after I nearly choke on it.

Nope. Not going there. No thinking about Bennet when I’m as close to happy as I’ve been since that fateful day when I caught him kissing his then-secret boyfriend.

Yeah, right. When has telling yourself not to think of him ever worked?

I wish it were that easy. That I could tell my mind not to dwell on Bennet as if my brain was some form of AI that I could program to ignore that particular data point.

Even if I could purge thoughts of him, I’m not sure I’d want to. Despite the fact he—unknowingly—broke my heart, there are years of good memories between us. Memories of the bond that formed when we begrudgingly pledged ourselves to Sigma Rho to follow our fathers’ legacies. Memories of pranks and parties while living in the frat house. Memories of quiet evenings playing video games or watching movies when neither of us had the energy to be social; him because of football and me because of my studies.

To this day, I’m fairly certain it was his influence that led our fraternity brothers to accept me unconditionally, since lord knows a gay nerd isn’t a sought-after type of member. And even though they had to offer me a place because of my father, chances are without Bennet’s influence I might’ve received more than my fair share of hazing.

But Bennet never saw a gay nerd when he looked at me. He just saw…me. And being the charismatic guy he is, the simple act of accepting me for me enabled others to do the same. I actually have good friends in the frat, which I attribute to Bennet. He gave me the confidence to be who I am without reservation, and I’m as comfortable in my own skin as I’ve ever been thanks to him.

I’m also heartbroken or whatever, but I might bear some responsibility for that.

Taking another, normal-sized, sip, I reflect on where I might’ve gone wrong, and what I could’ve done differently.

Ignoring his boundaries is a hard no—I’d never do that to anyone—but maybe if I’d been paying closer attention, I’d have realized those boundaries had changed. I’d have picked up on the fact he was starting to ask questions, and been there to help him find answers.

Of course, he didn’t start asking questions until Damien came along, so maybe Bennet would still be straight if Damien hadn’t challenged that belief. Maybe things would be just as they always were, me hiding my feelings and pretending I wasn’t interested and him being totally oblivious to that dormant part of himself.

But it’s not dormant anymore, so it’s hard to keep my mind from wandering to that persistent question, why Damien? Why not me? And since it’s not me, can we even be friends anymore?

Best friend was a hard enough role to play when I thought his sexuality was the roadblock to my feelings, but best friend while he’s got a boyfriend? Can I even hang out with the two of them while they’re together?

So far, I’ve been able to avoid that situation. Careful planning, and a few sudden and demanding school projects that may or may not be real, have given me the excuse to be scarce. That won’t last forever though.

Dammit, why did Bennet have to fall for a guy I actually like? Avoiding them would be so much easier if I didn’t like the man in my best friend’s life.

A better question is why I never picked up on the fact that Bennet was confused about his sexuality. I’m not saying I should’ve been looking for cracks in the straight persona, but I find it hard to believe that he could go through that type of identity crisis without any outward signs. Why didn’t I see them? Is it because I took him at face value that he was straight? Should I have asked how he knew that about himself?

Jesus Aiden, get a grip.

I hate when people ask how I know I’m gay, so I could never be that ignorant in return. And I damn sure don’t want to be thought of as the guy who creeps on straight men. But maybe if I’m interested in someone, I should just say it. What’s the worst that could happen, they say they want to be friends?

Instead of waiting around for people to notice me I should be bold. Take chances. Put myself out there like the confident guy I can be.

Sort of like Kier is on stage.

I take another sip of my drink. That’s one way to get off the Bennet spiral.

Not that I’ve got a new crush or anything, although Kier is a captivating man, but he’s totally unattainable. Doesn’t even know I exist.

Bennet was unattainable too.

That thought nearly has me snorting whiskey all over the bar, earning me a wary glance from the bartender, but I can’t help that the irony is priceless enough to have me spewing my drink.

Not that Kier is the straight kind of unattainable—I think I read somewhere he’s actually gay—but he’s a renowned scholar in the AI/prosthetic space, and we’re only in the same city because he’s on a book tour. He’s completely out of reach.

A guy can dream though.

About a man who can capture a room’s attention just by walking into it. Whose velvety voice can inspire and excite while it seems to wrap you in a warm blanket. Whose penetrating blue eyes can appear to see into your soul, making it seem like he’s speaking directly to you rather than an auditorium full of people.

Yes, that last part seemed to happen during his lecture tonight. Logically, I know that’s just my imagination running wild, but believing for even a second that Kier saw me out of all the people in the crowd is a thought I’m going to let myself indulge in. A little ego boost after heartbreak if you will. I figure I’ve earned it, even if it’s not real.

So, I let myself believe Kier really was looking at me. That his cool sapphire eyes found me in that crowd and liked what they saw. That his smooth, rich voice was speaking directly into my ear. And that he walked with purpose because he was walking to me.

God, I sound like a princess looking for Prince Charming.

I must be lonelier than I thought. That should come as no surprise considering my living situation.

There are two couples in my house, and while Damien doesn’t live with Bennet, he’s there often enough. Or he was before Bennet tore his ACL and they started staying at Damien’s since his apartment has an elevator. I’m expecting them to be around more once Bennet’s able to do stairs again, and I wouldn’t be shocked if Damien moves in permanently once his lease is up, meaning I’m more than likely going to be living with three couples my senior year.

Talk about having my single status thrown in my face every day.

Maybe I should move. Get a place where I won’t be subjected to the sounds of sex every night. Damien’s got a single apartment, I bet I could take over that lease.

Yeah, right.

Single apartments are well outside my budget. I’d be better off investing in a new pair of noise canceling headphones.

I wonder if Keir made an audio version of his book. That’s a voice I could fall asleep to every night. Deep. Resonant. Soothing. One I’ve apparently committed to memory since I can hear it even now, more than an hour after leaving the venue.

Memories of that lecture bring a smile to my lips, and I’m so lost in them it takes me a second to realize the voice I’m hearing isn’t in my head. It’s coming from right next to me.

Turning slowly toward the source, I find myself face to face with the man I’d just been fantasizing about. The unattainable one. Kier Caldwell.

He’s even more gorgeous up close than he is on stage, and I feel my Adam’s apple drop as I swallow back the urge to go all fanboy and gush about how much I love his book and his mind and…him. In a strictly professional way. Mostly.

His sky-blue eyes watch me with an intensity that’s both friendly and assessing, as if he’s taking in every detail but not in an appraising way. More like he’s committing something to memory.

“Pardon?” I say the first thing that comes to mind, since I’ve got no clue what he said or how he’s expecting me to respond.

He cocks his head slightly, giving me a curious smile, and making me wonder if that was the wrong response. Then he points to a spot on the bar and says, “I asked if you could pass me a napkin.”

Glancing to my right I see one of those bar-top plastic dispensers that hold napkins and condiments, and with more composure than I feel I reach for it and pass it to him.

“Thanks.” His warm voice cascades over me, sending my heartbeat into an erratic rhythm.

“Sure.” I’m looking at Kier Caldwell. Talking to Kier Caldwell. And I have so many things I want to ask him, like whether long-term exposure to nanomaterials is safe, and whether they would further enhance or interfere with the haptic feedback or sense of “touch” that AI-powered limbs are already delivering.

Picking his brain, sharing my excitement about my studies with someone who wouldn’t need sci-fi references to understand what I’m saying… That’s a dream come true. The opportunity of a lifetime. I only need to pick which question to ask first.

But before I can put one into words, I think about how lonely I’ve been. How burying myself in schoolwork to avoid Bennet means the only conversations I’ve had recently are about science. How I made a decision not ten minutes earlier to take risks and put myself first. And how I wished Kier really had been looking at me during his lecture, and not as a colleague.

What’s the worst that can happen? After all, we are in a gay bar.

Taking a deep breath, I sit up straight and paste a modest yet engaging smile on my face. “May I buy you a drink?”