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

by Susannah Nix

  She blinked at him, overwhelmed by what she read in his expression—but also ashamed of her sudden outburst of emotion, and embarrassed she’d thrown a wet blanket on what had been heading toward being a very hot night.

  He bent down and kissed her on the lips, with so much tenderness she thought her heart would burst. “You have me. If you want me.”

  Unwinding her arms from his waist, she reached up with both hands to cradle his face. “I want you,” she said, solemn as an oath.

  His pulse jumped under her fingertips. He blinked at her through those incredible, glossy lashes, and his lip betrayed the minutest hint of a tremble. “Good.”

  He was so beautiful. It hurt to think about how much she’d hurt him. How she’d tried so hard to push him away. She threaded her fingers into his hair and pulled his face down to hers so they were nose to nose. Forehead to forehead. “I didn’t mean to break your heart.”

  She felt him shake his head. “It doesn’t matter, as long as I get to have you.”

  “If it helps, I broke my own heart too.”

  He pulled back, eyes softening, and reached up to caress her cheek. “I don’t want your heart to be broken. I just want to make you happy.”

  “You do.”

  Uncertainty clouded his face. “Really?”

  She pressed her fingers to his brow, smoothing out the creases. “No one’s ever made me this happy before.” She watched the skin around his eyes crinkle before she kissed him. Slow and deep. Trying to pour everything in her heart into it. I care about you, her lips whispered silently. I need you. I love you.

  They spent a few dreamy minutes just kissing. Enjoying the feel of each other, and the taste. Her hands found their way back to his shirt and she eased it off his shoulders. His bare arms wrapped around her, radiating warmth and security. She sighed happily at the sensation.

  His hands roamed over her back until his fingers found the zipper of her dress. She arched against him as he tugged it down. Breathing heavily, he eased her dress off one shoulder, and then the other. She could feel him holding himself back, his urgency evinced by his strained, jerky motions as he worked her dress down her body.

  When he got it down to her waist, he paused and exhaled a long breath, his eyes burning brighter as they devoured her. She helped him out by shoving her dress down her hips, letting it pool on the floor at her feet. Her hands moved to his pants, enjoying the way his stomach muscles flexed at her touch. Working quickly, she unfastened his belt and pants, shoving them down his legs.

  He toed off his shoes and socks, stepped out of the jumble of fabric at his feet, and grabbed her, pulling her against him. Their bodies sparked with heat everywhere their bare skin came together.

  Tender hands caressed her. His palms moved over her breasts, then glided down and around, cupping her backside. Her breath caught as she was lifted off the floor. She twined her arms and legs around him, and he carried her into the bedroom.

  Jonathan halted at the foot of her bed, frowning at something over her shoulder. “Move, cat. I need the bed.”

  Esther laughed as he spun them around and sank down onto the bed with her in his lap. Over his shoulder, she saw Sally Ride dash away as the mattress bowed under their combined weight.

  Jonathan buried his face in the crook of Esther’s neck, and she sank her fingers in his hair, arching against him. His hands smoothed over her thighs, and his mouth traveled down to her cleavage, exploring with his tongue.

  Just when she was starting to get impatient for more, he reached up and unclasped her bra, allowing her breasts to tumble free. He sucked in a ragged breath and cupped them in his palms. Then his hands slid down her body, and he was lifting her up again, laying her down gently on the bed.

  Standing over her, he yanked down his briefs. She squirmed in anticipation as he stooped to drag her underwear down her legs. His hands glided over her skin, sending her into a frenzy of desire. She tugged at him, pulling him onto the bed with her. Needing to feel him. Wanting him everywhere.

  He murmured her name softly, drawing moans and sighs from her as his hands explored the planes of her body. As they came together, she gazed into his beautiful blue eyes, defenseless. Overpowered by emotion. Swept away on a wave of bliss.

  I love him, Esther thought afterward as she lay in the cradle of Jonathan’s arms. The knowledge burned in her chest like a supernova. It was both miraculous and terrifying. Part of her ached to say the words aloud, but another, much bigger part of her quaked in fear at the idea. She didn’t trust her own emotions, and she certainly didn’t trust this new thing that was happening between them. This relationship. She didn’t do relationships. She didn’t even know how they were supposed to work. She had no experience to guide her.

  What if she wasn’t ever able to say the L-word? Or what if she said it, and it scared him away? What if he didn’t love her back? He’d said he loved her weeks ago, but that had been in the face of her rejection. An attempt to win her back. Maybe he hadn’t meant it. Or maybe he had, but he didn’t anymore. He hadn’t said it again since, which could mean he didn’t feel that way about her anymore.

  “Hey.” He nuzzled into her hair, pressing his nose against the back of her neck.

  “Hmmm?”

  “You got all tense all of a sudden. You okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  He pushed himself up onto one elbow and rolled her over onto her back, studying her face in the soft lamplight. His brow furrows had returned in full force. “No freaking out on me. You aren’t having regrets, are you?”

  She pressed her fingertips to his forehead, and the creases melted away at her touch. “No regrets.” She didn’t want him thinking she was about to bolt again. She wasn’t going to do that. If she was going to screw this up, she’d undoubtedly find a new and different way to do it. One neither of them were prepared for.

  “Scared?” He knew her too well. How had that happened?

  “Maybe a little.” It was a big admission for her. She was trying. “But not of you.”

  “Then what?”

  Myself. That she wasn’t cut out for this. That she wouldn’t be able to give him what he needed. That he’d realize he wanted more and leave her. That she’d open herself up to him and end up alone.

  Her eyes skated away from his. “I’m just feeling…overwhelmed, I guess. This is all new to me.”

  He lay on his side and propped his head in his hand. His fingers interlaced with hers on her stomach. “What is?”

  “Caring about someone.”

  His face broke open. She was never going to get over that smile of his. “Oh, well, it’s not that tricky.” He brought her hand to his lips. “You’ve got good instincts. You’ll pick it up as you go along.”

  She could feel her heart stretching as she looked at him. Making even more room. Somehow, he’d crept into her dark crevices and dusted out the cobwebs, filling in her sharp corners with his tenderness. Maybe everything would be okay. Maybe they’d be able to do this together.

  She turned toward him and pressed a hand against his face. His eyes fluttered closed as she stroked his beard. So much like a cat.

  “You look different without your glasses.”

  His eyes opened again. “Different good or different bad?”

  “Good. I feel like I’m getting to see Secret Jonathan. The real you, that no one else gets to see.”

  He leaned over to brush his lips against hers. “I still can’t believe—” He broke off, smiling and shaking his head.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” He looked smug. Like someone with a secret.

  “Tell me. What can’t you believe?”

  His fingers traced the line of her jaw. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you?”

  “How long?”

  “Since the very first moment I met you. I’ll bet you don’t even remember it.”

  Her mouth opened as her mind reached back, trying to grab onto the memory. But there was nothing there. It felt as
if he’d always been around, in the background of her life, ever since she’d moved to LA. She couldn’t pinpoint the moment when she first saw him.

  “I’ll give you a hint,” he said. “You yelled at me.”

  “Of course I did.” She shook her head, laughing. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to narrow it down a little more.”

  He rolled onto his back, and she scooted over to snuggle up against his chest. “It was the day after you moved into the building,” he said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “I’d seen the movers bringing your stuff up, and I must have watched you walk back and forth past my window at least a dozen times.” He smiled at the memory. “I thought you were beautiful.”

  She felt her cheeks heat. “Shut up.”

  “I did! So the next day, I was sitting out on my balcony when I saw your car pull in below. And I grabbed my keys and sprinted downstairs, so I could ‘accidentally’ bump into you and introduce myself.”

  “That’s adorable.” She wished she could remember it, but she was still drawing a blank.

  “I got to my car as you were unloading your groceries, and I unlocked it like I was going out.” He played idly with her hand as he talked, running his thumb over her knuckles. “And when you looked up, I said, ‘Hi, my name is Jonathan. I live next door to you in six.’ And you said, ‘You’re supposed to park your car between the lines, not on them.’”

  Esther burst out laughing. “Oh my god! I didn’t!” She buried her face in his chest, mortified.

  “You did.”

  “I’m the worst! How could you possibly like me after that?”

  He laid a hand on her hair and kissed the top of her head. “I couldn’t help myself. I think it actually made me like you more.”

  She lifted her head to look at him. “That’s twisted. You know that, right?”

  He shrugged. “I remember thinking, Well, I blew it. She hates me now. She’ll never agree to go out with me.”

  “And look how wrong you were.” She kissed his chest and laid her head back down. His heartbeat fluttered against her cheek. “I didn’t hate you though.”

  “Liar. I know you did. You didn’t even try to hide it.”

  Her fingers played with the light trail of hair leading down his abdomen. “That’s because—and you may know this about me already—I can sometimes be too blunt. Aggressive, even.”

  He chuckled, pulling her closer and nuzzling his nose against her head.

  “I didn’t hate you,” she said, smiling into his skin. “I just…disliked you.”

  “Oh, okay. That’s so much better.” He rolled her onto her back so he could kiss her.

  “I didn’t know you. Once I got to know you, you were irresistible.”

  “Yeah, right.” He dipped his head to kiss her neck.

  “It’s true.” Her fingers curled into his hair. She loved his hair. She loved that she could run her fingers through it whenever she pleased. “I didn’t want to like you, but I couldn’t help myself. You make me helpless.”

  He tilted his head, gazing up at her through his long lashes. “I can’t imagine you ever being helpless about anything.”

  “I am when it comes to you. You wouldn’t believe how I pined over you. Me. I don’t pine. Ever. But I did over you.”

  His mouth curled into a smirk. That infuriating, sexy, irresistible smirk. God, she loved it. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. It was pathetic.”

  He kissed the tip of her nose and flopped onto his back again, tugging her into his arms. “Is it wrong that I like the idea of you pining for me?”

  She rested her head in the perfect cradle of his shoulder. “No, I don’t think it’s wrong.”

  His arms tightened around her. “I was pining for you too, you know.”

  “We were both pathetic.”

  “What are we now?”

  Her fingertips found his heartbeat. “Happy.”

  “I like the sound of that,” he said, yawning.

  She snuggled closer, soaking up the sense of contentment. She wanted to exist here forever in the protective circle of his arms. Listening to the gradual slowing of his breathing as he drifted off to sleep. Counting every beat of his heart.

  This was where she belonged. It was everything she’d ever wanted.

  It wasn’t a disaster, it was a miracle.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  When Esther woke, she was alone. Dust motes danced in the grayish-yellow light stealing in through the blinds. It was morning. For a fleeting moment, she genuinely believed last night had been a dream. In the disorientation of half-sleep, her brain tried to parse fantasy from reality. Had they really spoken? Had they even gone on a date? Had her imagination concocted all of it to torment her?

  She heard a cabinet close in the kitchen and her mind defogged enough to identify the smell of coffee filling her apartment. Coffee and…something else. Whatever it was, it smelled heavenly.

  Throwing back the covers, she grabbed an old T-shirt and wandered into the kitchen.

  Jonathan stood at the counter in nothing but his glasses and his underwear, whisking something in a bowl. It wasn’t a dream. It was better. For a few seconds, Esther stood silently and watched, taking in the sight of him. Memorizing the moment, in case it didn’t last.

  He glanced her way, and a smile stole over his features. “You bought a real coffeemaker.”

  She walked over to him, rose up on her toes, and pressed her lips to his mouth. “I did.”

  His arm banded around her waist, holding her against him. The smile on his face got wider. “Good morning.” He gave her a soft, lingering kiss. Smiling the whole time.

  “Good morning to you too.” Esther couldn’t remember ever smiling this much in her whole life. Her cheeks ached as muscles that had atrophied with disuse came to life.

  His smile shifted into a smirk. “It’s not as good as my Chemex, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  “But it’s pretty good for a beginner.”

  “I’m glad it has your seal of approval. I’ll let that beginner comment go unremarked.”

  Still smirking, he let go of her and turned back to the bowl. It was full of thick batter. Butter sizzled in a nonstick pan preheating on the stove.

  “You made awkward pancakes,” she said, delighted.

  Bemused furrows sprouted across his forehead. “Awkward pancakes?”

  “That’s what I used to call it when a guy I’d slept with tried to get me to have breakfast with him the next morning.”

  Jonathan’s eyebrows lifted. “Is that so?”

  “Yeah, but these aren’t authentic awkward pancakes because I actually want to be here, eating your pancakes.”

  His mouth quirked. “Is that a euphemism?”

  “No, but it definitely should be. Oh, wait!” she said, suddenly remembering the hat she’d knit him weeks ago. “I have something for you.”

  She dashed back into the bedroom and dug through her dresser. When she came back into the kitchen, Jonathan had his head stuck in her refrigerator. “Do you have syrup?”

  “Pantry.”

  He emerged from the fridge, and his eyes alighted on the knit hat in her hand. “What’s that?”

  “I knit you a hat,” she said, holding it out to him.

  “You made this?” Admiration glowed on his face as he turned it over in his hands.

  She took the hat from him and pulled it down over his head, tucking his hair back, off his forehead. She was right—the gray yarn did look good with his eyes.

  He bent down and kissed her. “Thank you for making me a hat.”

  “You don’t have to wear it if you don’t like it.”

  “Are you kidding? I love it. I’m going to wear it every day.”

  “You definitely don’t have to wear it every day.”

  “Nope, my girlfriend made me a hat. I’m never taking it off.” The word girlfriend caused her stomach to drop as he turned back to his bowl of batter. “How many pancakes do yo
u want?”

  She recovered quickly. “Will you think poorly of me if I say four?”

  He grinned at her as he poured a scoop of batter into the pan. “Nope.”

  “Then I want five.”

  Laughing, he reached for the spatula. “Coming right up.”

  It was almost too much to bear, how much she loved him, how she’d never stood a chance without him. The words spilled out of her before she’d made a conscious choice to say them: “I love you.”

  The hand holding the spatula stilled. “Because I made you pancakes?”

  “No. I mean, I also love that you made me pancakes—but no. I love you with or without pancakes.”

  The eyes he turned toward her were bright and shining. “You love me?”

  “I do,” Esther said, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders. “I love you. I’ve loved you for a while, but I was too scared to say it.”

  Jonathan set down the spatula and pulled her into his arms. “You shouldn’t have to be scared to tell someone you love them.”

  “Yes, but you see, the thing you don’t know about me is that I’m pretty broken.”

  His nose rubbed against hers. “Believe it or not, I’d actually figured that out already.”

  “To be honest, you may want to reconsider getting involved with me. You don’t know me all that well yet, and I’m not sure you realize exactly how—”

  “I love you too,” he said.

  A starburst of affection exploded in her chest, and her face split into a grin. “Well, you’re screwed now.”

  “God, I hope so.” His hands tightened on her ass, and he hiked her up onto his hips.

  She laughed, feeling dizzy as he spun her around and plopped her onto the counter, sending measuring cups flying.

  “I love all your broken pieces,” he said. “I love everything about you. I even love the way you argue with me.”

  “You realize telling me that is going to backfire on you big time, right?”

  He locked eyes with her, running his hands up the outside of her thighs. “I love how opinionated you are, and that you act like you’re not afraid of anything when on the inside you’re afraid of everything. I love the frowny face you make when you’re bossing me around. I love how much you care about your friends, and the way you try to take care of them. I love you, Esther Abbott, every bonkers bit of you, and I want to take care of you the way you take care of everyone else.”