Kissing Her Crush

by Ophelia London

  It was what he’d been working for all these years, and it was more important than a woman who’d straight up told him she didn’t want to be with him anyway.

  He gathered up his feeling for Natalie and put them in a box. Sealed tight.

  With tired strength that only came from frustration, he punched his pillow and rolled over. But it was no use. Five minutes later, he blindly grabbed one of the robes from the back of the bathroom door and wandered into the kitchen. His mother had left a note for him on the table—not a text or voicemail, but a handwritten note, like he was fifteen again.

  Everything about being in Hershey brought back memories, probably because he hadn’t stayed under this room for longer than a week since high school graduation.

  Hersheypark, working at the med center, even Bullfrog Park caused memories to resurface. Though new memories included one other person.

  Dear Luke, We didn’t want to wake you, so your father and I booked 18 holes at the club first thing this morning. Please play nice at work today, don’t forget to eat, and I won’t ask where all my fried chicken went. Love you, Mom

  Luke pressed a hand against his chest. His mom was pretty damn great. Unconditional love at its purest. He’d felt that kind of love for Celeste at the beginning, before it all fell apart.

  He reread the note and smiled, recalling what Natalie had said. How just being here, sleeping here, eating here made his mother happy. Would he ever feel that kind of love? Could he love someone with everything in him, forgive no matter what, forever?

  He wanted to. He wanted intimacy and friendship, someone he could laugh with, someone who turned him on and challenged him into wanting more out of life. A woman who kicked his ass and made him a better man. A woman to grow old with, their family surrounding them.

  Exactly what his parents had.

  When he imagined a future like that, he didn’t picture Philly. The jarring fact was, he pictured Hershey.

  “’Sup, bro?”

  Luke glanced up when Dexter came in, saving him from his whacked-out thoughts.

  Dex laughed. “Nice threads.”

  Luke hadn’t bothered checking what robe he’d put on, but it was obviously one of Roxy’s. Short and pink and way too many ruffles.

  “Would you rather I take it off?” Luke said, searching the cabinets for a mug.

  “I’d rather you put on clothes like a human,” Dexter said, pointing at the cabinet next to the fridge. “Why aren’t you at work?”

  Before replying, Luke poured a tall cup of coffee. He had no idea how long ago it had been brewed, but it was hot and highly caffeinated. Though ethically against relying on chemical stimulants, he needed it today. He’d been breaking all kinds of rules lately.

  “I worked late,” he said, “I told you that when we stopped by last night.” He sipped at the steaming liquid then winced. “What is this?”

  “Coffee,” Dexter said, pouring is own cup.

  “No, it’s not. It tastes like…”

  “A Hershey bar?” His brother grinned. “Mom infuses everything with it.”

  Luke took another investigatory sip. It was chocolate, all right. As the drink ran down his throat, a memory from last night—or this morning—shot to the front of his mind. Natalie with smears of chocolate on her mouth, her face, neck. He couldn’t swallow another drop.

  “You get used to it.” Dexter chuckled and took a long gulp. “So, were you with her all night?”

  Stalling for time, Luke took a drink. The taste triggered another memory—one he blocked out, boxed up with the rest of them. “Yes, it was just us.”

  “You were holding out on me, brother. She’s smokin’ hot.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  Dex lifted his eyebrows. “What’s with you?”

  “Nothing.” He sank onto a stool and cradled the mug between his hands, wishing the caffeine would hurry the hell up. “It was a long night, that’s all.”

  “You two seemed cozy. Did something happen?” It was a mistake for Luke to not answer right away, because Dex set down his cup and leaned forward. “Oh, man. Something happened, right? Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me.”

  Luke ran a hand over his face. “I need to shave.”

  “I’m right, aren’t I? Dude, you’re totally sleeping with the enemy.”

  Luke glared at him. “She’s not the enemy, and we’re not sleeping together. It was only a kiss.” He shuddered, remembering how he’d thrown that line at Natalie about their time in the tunnel. Only a kiss. He was such an ass.

  “You kissed her?” Dex said. “Once?”

  “No.” He shut his eyes, trying to keep a tight lid on that box. “More.”

  Dexter sat on the stool beside him. “How much more?”

  “We’re not thirteen and this isn’t a locker room.”

  “Fine, fine. Just remember, I had to watch Dr. Phil with Mom for two months after I had knee surgery. I’m practically a psychiatrist.”

  You’re practically about to get your ass kicked, Luke thought. But then he exhaled in defeat. Maybe talking would help. But what the hell did he know? And what the hell would Dex know? Despite his better judgment, however, and with limited detail, he told Dex about last night.

  “You were together in the lab, just the two of you, and you’re telling me you didn’t get a little…” He closed a fist. “Bird-in-Hand?”

  “You’re an idiot. We weren’t kissing the whole time.”

  “You were literally waiting for chocolate to solidify in a pan. What the hell else did you do?”

  “I don’t know. We hung out. She’s cool.”

  “Cool? What does that… Ahh.” He pointed at Luke. “You’re into her. You’re into the Intercourse dairy farmer’s daughter.”

  “Apple farmer,” Luke corrected.

  “She’s hot, man,” Dex added. “I don’t blame you.”

  Luke jerked around to face him. “I mean it, stop talking about her like that.”

  “Sorry. Touchy subject.” Dex sat back. “I take it that particular part of your relationship is over? I know the signs; you’re defensive and you sound wrecked.”

  “I’m not wrecked, I’m just…” He scratched his morning beard. “Conflicted. I shouldn’t…want what she wants—it’s doesn’t fall in line with the future I want. My life is totally my own again, no way I’ll let that go. I won’t make the mistake of letting anyone control me.”

  “Who’s trying to control you?”

  Luke shook his head. “I don’t know.” He already regretted bringing up the subject. He should’ve taken his coffee-chocolate concoction back to his room. Or given Dexter that ass kicking. Maybe that would’ve cheered him up.

  Dexter leaned his elbow on the counter. “We knew this was coming.”

  “Knew what was coming? And who’s we?”

  “Me and Rox. Mom, too.”

  Luke put down his mug and sat ramrod straight—fully awake now. “I swear, if I have to sit through another intervention…”

  “This is about Celeste. It’s all on her.”

  When Luke furrowed his brow and blinked, it made his head ache. “What is?”

  “The way you are with women, or were. You’re different about this one. You like her.”

  “Her name is Natalie.”

  “You like hanging out with her, you think she’s cool, and you’ve macked like champs.”

  Luke didn’t need the reminder. “Do you have a point?”

  “When you had to think about it going past what’s easy—a relationship and not just sex, you bailed. And that’s Celeste. She messed you up.”

  Dex was an insensitive hound when it came to the unfortunate women in his life, but he might’ve been onto something here. Luke wasn’t about to admit it, though. “This has nothing to do with her.”

  “She cheated on you, publically. That sucks big time, but it wasn’t your fault. You gotta get out there, man. Not every relationship will work out, but on the flip side, not every woman is out to control your
life. You have to get over it.”

  “I am over Celeste.”

  “You’re over her, but what she did still affects you. You’re sitting here in Roxanne’s bathrobe because you and Natalie got into a tiff. Dude, that’s lame.”

  “There’s a lot at stake for me,” Luke said. “My job, my reputation. Did you know I’m being headhunted by the National Institutes of Health? I have my future to think about, and that future has nothing to do with Natalie. It’s more complicated than you think.”

  This reminded him that he was due to check in at work. His boss had emailed twice asking for a new update. He couldn’t be expected to do that while being conflicted over a woman.

  “Man, every chick is complicated,” Dexter said. “But that’s no reason to give up.”

  Luke didn’t want to talk about it anymore. He’d already figured out what to do with his feelings. He’d boxed them up. And he didn’t need his brother throwing armchair relationship psychology at him. As if wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am Dexter knew a damn thing about relationships.

  “I gotta get going,” Luke said, walking to the sink and pouring out the rest of his coffee.

  “I’m here if you need to talk.”

  “I won’t,” he threw over his shoulder. Then he felt like a dick. “But thanks, man.”

  He let the shower beat over his head, as he tried to get back to the place where things made sense. His job, his future, progressing in his career, not letting a woman screw with his priorities. Not until he’d put another mental layer of duct tape around that box did he get in the Jeep and drive to the med center.

  Chapter Eleven

  Natalie sensed the moment Luke entered the room, because her heart did that annoying skip thing, and her lips felt hot. Since she couldn’t be expected to control physical reactions, she didn’t bother looking at him.

  “You’re late.”

  “It’s three minutes to noon,” he said.

  She lifted her chin to eye him.

  “Sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

  She narrowed her eyes.

  “Or not.” He dropped his keys on the table.

  At least he wasn’t wearing another skin-tight T-shirt, but one of those boring, tailored, million-dollar button downs. Thank goodness. There was no time for distractions today. If he’d only put his lab coat on faster, she wouldn’t have to notice how that very boring shirt was tucked into his black pants, showing off his trim waist and lovely flat abs.

  “Nat? You ready?” Ivy stood before her with the clicker for her laptop.

  “Yeah.” She cleared her throat. “Now that we’re all here”—she couldn’t help shooting a glance at Luke—“we’ll get started.”

  She probably shouldn’t kick off the day by giving him grief. After all, she’d only arrived at the lab twenty minutes ago. But Luke didn’t need to know that, or that she hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep. Stupid gorgeous man in a lab coat.

  “Gather around, you guys. As you know, we’re starting the preliminary injections today. The real serum won’t be ready for another seventy-two hours, but we need to make sure once the two halves of each mold are sealed properly they’ll hold the full injection. Got it?” She clicked through a few slides, but it was purely a refresher; her team knew what to do.

  “The makeshift serum we’re using today is the same consistency but with chemical substitutes.” She demonstrated by toggling to an overhead projector hooked to her microscope. “See?” She displayed two slides, one of the final serum, and one of the prototype. “The chemical compounds are the only difference.”

  “Since time’s an issue, instead of using a prototype, why not use the real thing now?”

  Natalie switched off the projector and looked at Luke. The sound of his voice did something to the rhythm of her heart she didn’t like. Or did like. Or whatever. Grrr

  “You heard me say two seconds ago that the serum isn’t ready,” she said. “And it’s called practice.”

  “Doesn’t that mean wasting the molds we made last night?”

  She put a hand on her hip. “We have plenty of molds.”

  “We actually don’t,” Ivy said. “We should have a lot more, but some of them got, shall we say, redistributed.”

  One of the interns raised his hand, but Natalie ignored him. “I counted this morning, and we have just enough. We’re good to go. And I’ll be extra vigilant about no more redistributing incidents.” She heard Luke attempt to cover a chuckle with a throat clear. Was he being deliberately annoying? Or unintentionally charming? “Anyway, let’s get started. Who’s first?”

  “Outta my way.” Ivy pushed up her sleeves, slid on her goggles and approached the counter. She filled the syringe, sealed the two chocolate bars, then inserted the serum like a pro. “And that’s how it’s done,” she said, snapping the cuff of her glove.

  The interns went next. Each with steady hands and dead on precision. Afterward, they went to their own station and got to work.

  “Don’t I get a try?” Luke asked, approaching her workstation just as Natalie was about to clean up.

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you’re here to observe—no touching. Just because last night I let you—”

  “Touch?”

  She closed her eyes impatiently. “Help…doesn’t mean you’re allowed to touch anything today. Or ever again.”

  “Fine.” He pulled out his tablet and started tapping.

  “What are you writing?” she asked, trying to get a look.

  “Observations.” He angled to the side so she couldn’t see.

  Grrr, this guy! Deliberately annoying, for sure, even though his cocky grin did add a tiny touch of charm. For a second, she thought about apologizing for being prickly this morning. But why bother bringing it up? She should stay prickly toward him for the rest of the two weeks. That would keep them apart, at least.

  “You said the chemical compounds of the prototype differ from your serum,” Luke said. “How so?”

  She was about to refer him to her proposal when he said, “I read it, but I’m not a chemist. I need you to explain it to me.” He slid his hands in his pockets and leaned back, stirring the air between them just enough that she breathed in his aftershave.

  No—too distracting. Stay away, sexy smelling man.

  She tried to breathe through her mouth, but that only meant she could taste the aftershave, activating another sense. If only he smelled like kerosene.

  “We swapped out two main ingredients,” she said.

  “Which ones?”

  “Since their chemical names won’t mean anything to you, suffice it to say, they’re herbs and root oils from the Amazon.”

  “Oils?”

  “They’re precious and extremely rare, which is street talk for majorly expensive—hence, our grant and our need for additional grants to move forward. That’s why we’re not using the real stuff during the pre-test phase.”

  “I see.” He glanced down at the serum and the pile of chocolate squares. “You insert that between the two bars, and it seals them together. In effect, the end result is similar to chocolate covered cherries?”

  “Sort of, but the serum solidifies instantly, so it won’t be liquid at the time of consumption.”

  “I assume you include additives to make it taste good, since it’s taken orally.”

  Natalie tried very hard to not lose her patience. “They’re not additives. They’re organic. But honestly, the serum has very little taste. There’s a light fruity tang, like mango water.”

  “Mango?” She noticed Luke’s eyes brighten, though he examined the serum skeptically. “I like mango.”

  “Want to try? Just a little drop.” No, this was not another dare. “It won’t hurt you. It’s a hundred percent pure.”

  Luke looked at her then down at the serum, his eyes still narrow. “Sure, I’m curious.” He held out his hand and Natalie picked up the syringe, squirting a dollop of the clear liquid on the tip of his inde
x finger. He eyed it for a moment, then touched it to his tongue, blinking as his taste buds reacted. “Not bad.”

  She capped the syringe and carefully placed it back in its holding stand. “Told ya. You’ll feel no reaction since it’s aimed at stimulating the adolescent brain, only.” She fought back a smile as she added, “Though there’re minor side effects in male adults.”

  “What side effects?”

  She cocked an eyebrow and lowered her voice. “Spontaneous prolonged erection, big guy.” Luke’s face went bedsheet white, and it took everything in Natalie not to burst out laughing. “In some test subjects,” she added clinically. “A lot of those early tests were done on gorillas, and everyone knows they have less testosterone than human males. Even so, those were some impressive results. Boy, oh, boy.”

  “Water,” Luke said, grabbing his throat like he was choking. “I need some water.”

  “You okay, fella?”

  “Uh.” He dropped his gaze to the front of his lab coat, about two thirds of the way down. “I’m not going to, I mean, will I…”

  “Not that I can see—yet,” Natalie said, then she couldn’t take it anymore and broke into a laugh so hard she could barely breathe. “Relax,” she said, patting his shoulder. “This is the prototype, remember. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

  He stared at her for a few moments, maybe gauging if his ears and brain and other parts of his body had heard right. Then a deep notch cut between his eyebrows. “Not cool.”

  “But funny,” she said in a sticky-sweet voice. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “You didn’t. I’d be fine with… I could handle… Never mind.” He grabbed his tablet. “I won’t be reporting on this.” He shot Natalie a menacing look, but she caught more teasing in it than anger.

  The guy could take a joke. She only hoped he wasn’t into equally measured paybacks.

  Even hours later, just thinking about Natalie’s little trick made Luke’s palms break out in a sweat. No matter what the sitcoms said, no guy wanted to be inflicted with that particular side effect. At least not in public.

  He glanced at Natalie, who sat behind a desk making notes, pulling at the end of her ponytail, chewing the cap of her pen. Definitely not in public.