Intermediate Thermodynamics: A Romantic Comedy (Chemistry Lessons Book 2)

by Susannah Nix

  “Stop apologizing,” Jonathan whispered back. He leaned back, gazing up at the screen, and reached across the armrest for her hand.

  Okay, so maybe she hadn’t ruined the date after all.

  He held her hand through the whole movie, absently stroking her knuckles. Whenever something violent happened on screen, he’d hold on even tighter. Fortunately for her, it was an extremely violent movie.

  Esther’s eyes kept drifting to his face during the film. The worry lines in his forehead. The soft bump below the bridge of his nose. The inviting curve of his lips. He was gorgeous. She couldn’t believe she’d spent so much time disliking him when she could have been appreciating the view instead. She should have called dibs for herself from the start, and saved everyone a world of trouble.

  They stayed in their seats through the end of the credits, waiting until the lights came up before making their way to the aisle. Esther’s feet had enjoyed their reprieve, but now that she was standing on them again, they were not happy. She was definitely getting a blister. Maybe two.

  “What’s next?” Jonathan asked as they emerged from the theatre.

  “Dinner,” she said. For emphasis, her stomach made an embarrassing pterodactyl screech.

  He grinned and stuck out his elbow. “Lead on, my lady.”

  She wrapped her hands around his arm, relishing the opportunity to cozy up to him as they started for the restaurant. It was the closest they’d been physically since their ill-fated indiscretion, and her heartbeat quickened as she breathed him in. He didn’t smell like cigarette smoke tonight. He smelled divine. She held on tight and leaned even closer.

  The restaurant she’d planned to take him to was only a block away. But as they approached, she could see people spilling out onto the sidewalk from the front door.

  “Looks a little crowded,” she observed with a sinking feeling.

  The wait for a table turned out to be an hour. Her stomach made another loud pterodactyl noise while they were discussing whether to stick it out.

  “We’ll find somewhere else,” Jonathan said, leading her away. “I think we need to get some food in you before you turn into Low Blood Sugar Hulk.”

  They kept walking, to the increasing unhappiness of her feet. The next restaurant they came to was as crowded as the last. Goddamn LA and its high concentration of foodie hipsters. Finally, three blocks away, they happened upon an Indian restaurant that could fit them in. All the tables were taken, so they had to sit side by side at the bar. It wasn’t exactly the romantic dining experience Esther had been hoping for, but at least they were off their feet with the promise of food on the horizon.

  After they’d ordered, the conversation hit a lull. Esther squirmed on her stool, trying to get more comfortable. Her feet were dangling in the air, and her shoes had slipped off the backs of her heels.

  “So, that was your sister the other day,” she said, flailing for conversational topics. “The banker or the med student?”

  Jonathan glanced over at her, then down at the counter. “The med student, Sarah.”

  “What’s she like?”

  “Competitive. Annoyingly smart. Perfect, basically.” There was more than a hint of bitterness in his tone.

  “All that and beautiful too. Sounds like a nightmare.”

  He offered a thin smile. “She’s great, actually. It’s just not much fun being compared to her all the time.”

  Esther wobbled on her stool as she shifted to face him more. “How much older is she?”

  “Four years. And Rachel is four years older than Sarah. My parents wanted us well spaced out.” A shadow passed across his face, as it always did at the mention of his parents.

  “I’ll bet your sisters mothered you a lot.”

  “You bet right.” His knee was jiggling under the counter, like he was restless. Or bored. “What about your brother? How much older is he?”

  “Three years.”

  “Did he try to parent you?”

  “We kind of parented each other. It was always me and Eric against the world. Until he left for college, and then I was mostly on my own.”

  Jonathan’s eyes softened behind his glasses. “That must have been hard.”

  Esther shrugged, regretting the conversational path she’d chosen. “I was used to fending for myself by then. It’s kind of funny—you basically grew up with three mothers, and I grew up with none.”

  It wasn’t really funny at all, and Jonathan’s nod was half-hearted at best. There was another lengthy lull before he broke the silence. “You grew up in Seattle, right?”

  She nodded. “I moved here after college when I took the Sauer Hewson job.”

  “What’s Seattle like? I’ve never been.”

  “Rainy.” She missed the rain. There was a lot to be said for Los Angeles’s weather, but there was something special about a rainy day. “What’s Newport Beach like?”

  He looked down at his hands, intertwined in his lap. “Like LA, only whiter.”

  The conversation stuttered to another halt. It didn’t come as naturally to them as it used to. They both squirmed on their stools, staring at everything except each other.

  None of this was going the way Esther had wanted it to. They used to talk so easily. What had happened to that? Had she ruined it all? What if they couldn’t get back to where they were? What if she’d broken them irrevocably?

  The food was bland and mediocre. But they were both ravenous and grateful for the distraction, so they tucked into it like it was a five-star meal.

  When the check came, Jonathan tried to reach for it, but Esther snatched it away. “I asked you out, remember? It’s my treat.”

  “We could split it,” he offered, like they were on some sort of business lunch.

  She didn’t want to split it. She was trying to woo him, and wooing didn’t include going halvsies on the check. “Let me do this. Please.”

  He let her pay without further protest.

  Esther’s feet objected strenuously when she hopped off the stool and shoved them back into her shoes. Not only did she have blisters on both heels now, but her feet had swelled while she was sitting on that godforsaken stool, making her shoes feel even tighter.

  The night seemed darker when they stepped out of the restaurant. Bleaker.

  “You okay?” Jonathan asked as they started the six-block trek to the car.

  She forced a smile and tried not to limp so noticeably. “Yep. Fine.”

  “It looks like your feet are hurting.”

  “I shouldn’t have worn these stupid shoes. I wanted to look nice, but I forgot they give me blisters.”

  He reached for her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. “You’d look nice no matter what shoes you were wearing.”

  Her heart stuttered in her chest, and she squeezed his hand back, holding on tight in case he had any thoughts of letting go again. “Even my fuzzy Chewbacca slippers?”

  His face split into a grin. “Even your fuzzy Chewbacca slippers.”

  Getting to hold his hand made up for some of the pain in her feet, but by the time they got to the car, she was limping like Quasimodo. She sagged into the driver’s seat and groaned with relief as she kicked her shoes off.

  “Ouch,” he said, wincing in sympathy at the sight of her blistered feet. “You want me to drive?”

  “No, I’m fine now that I can take these wretched shoes off.” She chucked them over her shoulder into the back seat. More fodder for the Goodwill pile.

  Traffic was clear on the drive home. Jonathan fidgeted in the seat beside her and stared out the passenger window. Neither of them spoke. By the time she pulled into her parking space, Esther was convinced the whole night had been a failure. This was her chance to win him back, and she’d blown it. Some date she turned out to be.

  “Stay right there,” Jonathan said when she cut the engine. He jumped out of the car and came around her side to open the door. When he offered his hand to pull her to her feet, Esther assumed he was just being ch
ivalrous. Then he turned his back on her and said, “Alley oop.”

  She stared at the back of his neck. “What?”

  “I’m giving you a lift upstairs. Hop on.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “We can’t have you walking barefoot through the parking area. It’s unsanitary.”

  “I’m too heavy for you.”

  He twisted his head around to roll his eyes at her. “Pu-leez.”

  “All right, fine.” There was only so much protesting she was willing to do when an invitation to mount him like a show horse was on the table.

  He crouched down, bracing his hands on his knees, and Esther grabbed his shoulders and clambered onto his back. Straightening easily, like she was light as a feather, he put his hands under her thighs to help support her. His bare hands. On the backs of her bare thighs under her skirt.

  Warmth pooled in the pit of her stomach as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and squeezed her thighs against his waist. For better purchase, of course. Definitely not because she loved the feel of him between her thighs.

  “You good?” he asked.

  “Mmmmm.” She pressed her face into the back of his neck and breathed him in. His hair smelled like rosemary and mint, and it layered exquisitely with the cedar smell of his skin. So many smells, so much goodness. This was the best thing that had happened all night.

  He closed the car door, and Esther held on tight as he conveyed her up the stairs, then past his apartment door all the way to hers. It was a genuine tragedy when she had to hop down and let go of him. The loss of contact with his warm body left her feeling chilled.

  Once he’d deposited her safely on solid ground, he spun around to face her, stepping back a little. Putting more distance between them again.

  The floor of the breezeway was cold under her bare feet, and she shifted from foot to foot like grade-schooler in need of a bathroom pass. “Thanks for the lift.”

  He nodded, plunging his hands into his pockets. His brows drew together as his expression darkened.

  Esther’s stomach did a dive. Pinpoints of light reflected off his glasses, partially obscuring his eyes. The air between them suddenly felt heavy with impending catastrophe. She wasn’t ready for tonight to be over. She needed more time to make things right.

  “I’m sorry,” she blurted before he could speak. “I wanted tonight to be special, but instead everything was awful.”

  His frown deepened. You could stick a pencil in the furrows of his forehead. “It wasn’t awful.”

  “We missed the beginning of the movie, dinner was a bust, and I spent the whole night limping on bloody stumps because I apparently can’t even dress myself like an adult.”

  Dismay spread across his face. “I don’t care about any of that—I mean, I care that your feet hurt—but I don’t care about the rest of it.” He shifted closer, and the reflections on his glasses cleared, bringing his eyes into focus. The irises were tinged with silver. “I had a great time tonight.”

  A bubble of hope expanded in her chest. “You did?”

  “I was with you. It was perfect.”

  The bubble in her chest exploded into joy. He moved closer, and lifted a hand to cup her cheek. She leaned into his touch, letting his fingers warm her skin.

  His eyelashes lowered as he tilted his head toward her. It took all her willpower not to surge upward. She was desperate to feel his lips again, but afraid to initiate the kiss after the way he had turned his head away last night.

  When he was just out of reach, he paused. Their noses bumped. Their breath mingled. He held her gaze as his thumb scraped over her cheekbone. “Esther.”

  The word dissolved between them, soft as powdered sugar.

  “Please,” she whispered in an agony of anticipation. Desperation had rendered her pathetic. Her chest constricted as she held her breath, waiting. Dying. His visage dimmed and blurred as her eyes watered.

  Jonathan brushed his mouth against hers. Tender. Fragile. The barest of kisses.

  A needy whimper escaped her lips, and she curled her hands into his shirt. Pulling him closer. Every atom in her body yearning for him.

  “Shhh,” he murmured, and kissed her again.

  She shuddered a sigh, sinking into him. He tasted even better than he smelled. Even better than she remembered. A hand slid into her hair, then around the back of her neck, deepening the kiss. His other arm was around her waist, his palm flat against the small of her back, holding her close.

  Unwinding her fingers from his shirt, she moved her hands over his chest, then his shoulders, finally settling around his neck. As she pressed her body into his, she felt his lips curve against her mouth, and he let out a low huff of air.

  She reached up to touch his face, marveling that she was permitted to do so. When her fingernails scraped through his beard, his mouth curved even more and his blue eyes sparked bright in the dim light. She wanted to devour that smile of his and make it her own. Rising on her toes, she angled her mouth against his.

  Every muscle in her body quivered as she kissed him. Their tongues met in a slow, wet slide—earnest, intent, and a little frantic. Their teeth clashed and scraped, their breaths reduced to a series of staccato gasps. She put everything she had into that kiss, filling it with promises. She didn’t want it to be a goodnight kiss. She wanted it to be the start of something, not the end.

  “Esther,” he murmured when they finally came up for air. His fingers combed through her hair, his breath fanning her face.

  She gazed up at him and licked her lips, neurons crackling. Expectant. Hopeful. Nervous.

  The smile resurfaced, lighting up his whole face. “Aren’t you going to invite me inside?”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Esther propelled herself at him, heart singing with relief as she crushed her lips against his. Just as his mouth started to open to hers, she pulled back, grinning as she twisted away.

  Her keys. She needed her keys.

  Behind her, she heard him blow out a breath in—frustration? Anticipation? Something. She dug through her purse, letting out an “Aha!” of triumph when her fingers closed around the elusive metal objects.

  As she jammed one of them into the lock, Jonathan stepped up behind her and pressed his body against hers. One of his hands flattened against the door beside her head while the other reached around her waist.

  “Guh,” she groaned as his fingers spread out over her stomach, holding her flush against his body. Every firm inch of it.

  Shivers raced down her spine as he nosed aside her hair. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the top of her shoulder, then moved to the side of her neck, leaving a wet trail that tingled in the cold night air. When she felt his teeth graze the flesh between her neck and shoulder, her knees went to jelly, threatening to buckle on her. But his hand on her stomach held her in place, fingers curling into her waist as he continued his delicious assault on her neck.

  “I thought…” She trailed off, sighing as he nuzzled into her hair and his mouth found the tender spot behind her ear.

  “Hmmm?” he breathed against her. “You thought what?”

  Her head lolled forward. It was hard to think about anything other than the nearness of his body and his tongue on her skin. “I thought you wanted to come inside?” she finally managed.

  Wordlessly, he moved his hand to cover hers, and they turned the key together. He reached for the doorknob and twisted. The door swung open, and he pushed her into the apartment.

  Spinning to face him, Esther let her keys and purse fall to the floor as Jonathan slammed the door shut behind them and threw the bolt home. His expression was hungry as they surged together, meeting halfway in a fierce, open-mouthed kiss.

  Her nose knocked his glasses askew in their eagerness for one another, and she dragged her mouth away from his to remove them. She set them on the table by the door as he blinked at her, his eyes slightly unfocused while he adjusted to his uncorrected vision.

  Smiling, she reached up
to pet his beard. He leaned into her touch and made a purring sound in his throat not all that different than the sound Sally made when Esther scratched her in the same spot. Note to self: he likes to have his beard petted.

  He brushed her hair back from her face and gazed at her with heavy-lidded eyes. “I’ve been thinking about kissing you all night.”

  Her mouth fell open in surprise. “You have?”

  His thumb dragged along her lower lip, his expression dark and smoldering. “I couldn’t think about anything else. Every time I looked at you, all I could focus on was your mouth, and how much I wanted to taste it again.”

  Esther’s stomach did a pleasant swoop as he bent to kiss her. His long fingers caressed her jaw, and he tilted her head for a better angle, savoring her like an expensive delicacy.

  She was struck all over again by how gentle he was. How careful. She wondered if it was because he was afraid of hurting her, or because he was afraid of being hurt.

  A rush of guilt pooled in her stomach. Her hands tightened on his arms, pulling him closer. There was too much fabric between them. Craving connection, she went to work on the buttons of his shirt.

  Heat radiated from his skin as her hands smoothed over his torso. She found the steady thud of his heartbeat and pressed her lips to it. As she breathed in the familiar scent of him, affection welled up inside her, burning the back of her throat. She squeezed her eyes shut, wound her arms around his waist, and rested her cheek against his bare chest. Her breath hitched traitorously as she hugged him tight.

  “Hey.” Gentle hands slid across her back in soothing circles. “What’s wrong?”

  “I missed you,” she said, her voice coming out rough. “Sometimes it felt like I couldn’t breathe, I missed you so much.” She clung to him like gravity didn’t exist. Like he was the only thing keeping her from flying into the empty vacuum of space.

  “Shhh.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m here now.”

  She clutched him harder. “I thought I’d lost you.”

  “You didn’t lose me. I’m not going anywhere.” He gently loosened her grip, turning her a little in his arms. “Look at me.” He put a finger under her chin to tilt her face up.