Seeing him made me crack a little smile. I still felt the warm glow of gratitude for the way he’d helped me with Erwin. I’d brought him blueberry muffins this morning as a thank-you. Two empty muffin cups sat next to his keyboard. It would appear he’d enjoyed them.
“What do you think?” Elliott asked, angling his face toward me.
I checked my watch. “It’s been just over four minutes.”
“But what do you think? What are your instincts telling you?”
I observed the pair again. Their posture had softened. They were maintaining natural eye contact and their conversation was continuing without significant pauses.
“They appear to have adjusted sufficiently. But I would still suggest waiting the full five minutes we’ve allotted before the next phase. That way we’re not inadvertently introducing a new variable.”
“That’s a valid point,” Elliott said. “But don’t forget that sometimes your instincts as a researcher matter as much as the data.”
That was hard to believe. “Not to be unnecessarily argumentative, but instincts are fallible. Data is… data. Numbers don’t lie as long as they’re interpreted correctly.”
“In a lab, maybe. But the world isn’t as controlled as a laboratory.” Before I could ask what he meant, he turned for the door. “I’ll send the lab assistant in. This is our last pair for the day, so if you could get everything reset for tomorrow when they’re done, that would be great.”
I adjusted my glasses. “Of course.”
Once the lab assistant went in, there wasn’t much for me to do except observe. She entered and informed the subjects that we needed to calibrate the motion capture system by having them walk in a circle around the room.
In reality, we were already capturing data. The purpose was to discover how long it would take for their movements to synchronize, if they would at all.
I watched, fascinated, as the two subjects circled at a self-selected pace. It didn’t take long before the length of their steps, the angle of their bodies, and even their posture began to match. They were syncing. Mirroring each other.
The lab assistant then asked them to perform a series of tasks and mirroring games while we observed, and the motion capture system collected data. When they finished, and they’d removed their equipment, I joined them to administer a questionnaire. It contained a variety of questions, but we were particularly interested in their self-reported feelings and their reactions to their study partner. Did the syncing behaviors—conscious and unconscious mimicking of each other’s movements—influence how they felt about the other person?
The data would tell us for sure.
After the subjects left, I went back into the observation room with Corban and checked my phone. I was meeting Sophie for lunch today, but she’d texted to say that something had come up at work and she couldn’t get away. I texted back to let her know I’d see her later in the week for our run.
“Everything okay?” Corban asked.
He stood from his spot at the desk, not bothering to smooth down his shirt. It was partially un-tucked in the back today, like he’d gotten partway through dressing and forgotten what he was doing. I had a feeling that’s exactly what had happened.
Absently, I brushed a few muffin crumbs off his shirt. “Yes, fine. I was going to have lunch with Sophie, but she had to cancel.”
“Do you want to go grab something? I didn’t bring lunch, so I need to go out anyway.”
I smiled. “Sure.”
Although there were places to eat on campus, we decided on a Thai restaurant a short drive from the college. I followed him to his car—a late model crossover SUV. He had a sticker on the back window that read I do my own stunts, next to a figure hanging from a rock wall.
His brow furrowed as he patted his coat pockets, presumably looking for his keys.
“They’re in your pants pocket,” I said. I’d seen him slip them into that pocket before we left his office.
He located them and gave me a sheepish grin. “Thanks. I lose my keys a lot.”
Why was he so cute?
I didn’t understand why his absent-mindedness was so appealing. The men I’d dated in the past, including my ex-husband, had generally been organized and meticulous. No un-tucked shirts, missed buttons, or disheveled hair. I couldn’t remember any of them losing something as important as their car keys. Before meeting Corban, I wouldn’t have thought a tendency toward distraction could be an attractive trait.
But in Corban, it wasn’t just attractive. It was almost irresistible.
We got in his car and I placed my hands in my lap, trying not to fidget. But his car smelled like him, and the little smile he cast my direction made my core tingle. I crossed my legs, trying to ignore the sudden warmth. It was like my lady parts had been classically conditioned to expect an orgasm if Corban and I were alone.
I had a sudden urge to suggest we skip lunch and go to his place—or mine—instead.
“Corban, would you like to—”
His phone rang and I stopped short.
“Sorry, it’s my brother-in-law. I should take this.”
“Of course.”
He swiped to answer and put the phone to his ear. “Hey, man. What’s up?”
I couldn’t make out what his brother-in-law was saying, but judging by the way Corban’s eyes widened, it was important or surprising.
“Oh my god. Now? I’m on my way.” He put his phone down—I couldn’t tell if he’d even disconnected the call—and started the car. “My sister’s having her baby. Like, right now.”
I wasn’t sure if I was unconsciously mirroring his excitement or if it was simply the news of an impending birth, but my heart rate increased considerably. “Is she?”
“Yeah, they’re already at the hospital. They’ve been there since the middle of the night and he was supposed to text me, but he forgot.”
He backed out of the parking spot and I had the fleeting thought that it was inexplicably sexy the way he put his arm over the back of my seat and looked behind us as he drove in reverse.
Before I could process the fact that we were headed toward the hospital instead of lunch, and I was still in his car, we were speeding down the road. I didn’t mind missing the meal, but I wondered if he was truly aware that I was with him. That he was bringing me to the hospital to see his sister and her brand-new baby.
What did one do in a situation like this? Although I studied human interactions and behavior for a living, my professional experience so rarely seemed to be of any use when I found myself in unexpected situations. Was there data that pointed to the proper response to joining a friend—whom you’d slept with, which was another complicating variable—during what was more appropriately an intimate family moment?
Not that I was aware of.
Corban was focused on the road, so I pulled my phone out of my purse and group texted my friends.
Me: I have a dilemma. Advice needed ASAP.
Everly: Are you okay?
Nora: What’s up, sweetie?
Sophie: Working, but I’ll help if I can.
Me: Relevant details. Corban’s sister is in labor. I was in his car when he got the call. We’re now heading to the hospital.
Everly: Aw! I’m so happy for his sister!
Sophie: I love babies!
Nora: Uh oh.
Everly: What’s wrong?
Nora: Friends with bennies don’t do family shit.
Sophie: But it’s a new baby.
Everly: Can’t she just go see the baby?
Nora: This is asking for trouble.
Sophie: But we need baby pictures.
Nora: Why am I the only one of us with any sense?
Me: She’s right, this is an important event and should be reserved for close family members.
Nora: See? Hazel agrees with me, so you know I’m right.
Everly: They’re friends now. This isn’t that weird.
Sophie: Have you met his sister?
Me: Briefly.
Sophie: You can always just keep him company in the waiting room.
Everly: That’s a good point. And obviously he knows you’re with him. If he didn’t want you to come, he would have taken you back to work, right?
Me: Possibly. Although his distraction level is high.
Nora: This is a bad idea. She’s setting herself up to get hurt.
Everly: It’s fine. Friends can hang out at the hospital for something like this. There’s no rule against it.
Sophie: Plus, baby!
Everly: I know! I can’t wait to see pictures!
Nora: Why are you so excited to see pictures? We don’t even know Corban’s sister.
Everly: So? Babies are cute.
Me: I don’t expect to go farther than the waiting room so pictures are unlikely.
Sophie: That’s no fun.
Everly: Maybe just one picture?
Nora: You’re all hopeless.
Everly: Why so negative? Don’t we like Corban?
Nora: I’m sure Corban is great. Maybe he’s even amazing. His dick makes Hazel happy, so that makes me happy. But this is a girlfriend thing. And if you’re not a girlfriend, doing girlfriend things is dangerous. I’m just looking out for her.
Me: I know you are. It’s appreciated.
I tucked my phone back in my purse. Maybe Nora was right. Maybe I should go back to work.
But I didn’t want to. I wanted to stay with him.
Why? Maybe it was the tension in his grip on the steering wheel. The way his forearms flexed. The set of his jaw. He was nervous or concerned—either one a completely understandable reaction to the news that his sister was in labor. But there was something deeper than his posture or body language. Something that made the thought of leaving him in the hospital parking lot inexplicably unbearable.
I felt like he might need me, even if it was just to keep him company while he waited. He’d been there for me when I needed him. Why shouldn’t I do the same?
He was silent during the rest of the drive, his eyes on the road. Every minute or so he checked his phone, as if expecting a call or text with more news. I wanted to touch him, soothe his agitation. But it was as if he’d forgotten I was here.
We pulled into a spot in the hospital parking lot and got out of the car.
He reached out and grabbed my hand as I fell in step beside him. “I think he said they’re on the fourth floor.”
I slipped my hand into his and our fingers twined together. “We can ask at the front desk if it’s not clear.”
“Yeah. Sorry, I’m just kind of freaked out right now. My sister’s having a baby.” His voice was slightly breathless with awe and his concern was palpable.
I squeezed his hand. “She’ll be fine.”
He squeezed back. “Thanks.”
We went in through the large automatic doors at the front entrance and signs pointed the way. When we got to the maternity waiting room, he asked someone at the desk about his sister. She gently told him we could wait here, and Molly’s husband or a nurse would let us know as soon as there were any updates.
The waiting room was outfitted with couches and upholstered chairs. TVs were mounted high on the wall and stacks of magazines littered the side tables. A small group of people sat together in one corner, most of them looking at their phones. They didn’t appear to recognize Corban, so I assumed they were waiting for someone else.
I took a seat, but Corban couldn’t seem to stay still. He hesitated in front of the chair next to me, then stuffed his hands in his pockets and wandered around the room.
After a while, he stopped and glanced at me. “Oh, shit. Hazel, I’m sorry. We didn’t get lunch.”
“It’s okay. I don’t mind.”
“Are you sure? There’s probably a cafeteria. I could go with you, or…” He trailed off, looking toward the entrance to the maternity ward.
“No, you should stay here. I can wait.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “Thanks.”
“I’m sure your sister is fine.” I bit my lip before continuing. My mind fed me information I’d cataloged on the impact of modern medicine on the safety of childbirth. But I had a feeling even Corban didn’t want data right now. “Although it’s understandable that you’re worried about her.”
“I know she’s probably fine, and she has Martin and nurses and a doctor. But she’s my sister.” He shrugged. “I worry about her.”
He resumed his pacing and I flipped through a magazine. An excited father came out to share his news with the other group in the waiting room. I texted Elliott to let him know where we were. Fortunately, we didn’t have more subjects coming into the lab until tomorrow morning. He replied, asking me to congratulate Corban and his family.
We’d been waiting for just over an hour—sixty-three minutes since arriving, to be exact—when the door opened again.
A tall man with black hair, dark eyes, and a wide smile came out. I could tell immediately by Corban’s reaction that this was Martin.
“How is she?” Corban asked.
“They’re both great. Molly was amazing.”
Corban raked his hands through his hair again. “Oh thank God. Can we see them?”
We? Did he mean we, as in also me?
Uh-oh.
Martin looked past Corban at me.
“It’s okay, I can wait here. I don’t want to intrude.”
“Oh, right.” Corban gestured toward me. “Sorry, I always forget introductions. This is Hazel. Hazel, my brother-in-law, Martin.”
Martin smiled and his happiness was contagious. “Come on back. It’s just us right now.”
I stood from my chair, slipping a magazine back on the table. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I’ll ask Molly before you go in, but I don’t think she’ll mind.” Martin smiled again and clapped Corban on the back. “Come meet your niece.”
Corban reached out and grabbed my hand again. The warmth of his skin and the way his fingers twined with mine proved to be irresistible. We followed Martin through the interior door and down a hallway.
I’d never been in the childbirth wing of a hospital before. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected. More noise, perhaps? Babies crying? Women screaming in pain? There was nothing like that here. Just soft lighting and a hushed ambiance that reminded me of a library.
Martin stopped in front of a partially open door, the interior screened by a thick curtain. He went inside and came back a moment later. “Come on in.”
Corban pulled me through, past the curtain, into a dimly lit room. More thick curtains blocked the light from a window and a door led to a bathroom. Molly sat up in bed, cradling a tiny bundle in her arms.
“Hey, weirdo.” Corban let go of my hand and took a few steps closer.
She smiled at him. Her face was makeup-free, her hair tucked behind her ears. There was tiredness in her eyes, but like her husband, her joy was infectious. Quite frankly, she looked beautiful.
“Hey, twinkie,” she said. “Do you want to hold her?”
Corban froze next to the bed, his eyes wide. “Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure.” She lifted the bundle and set her gently in Corban’s arms. “Say hi to Uncle Corban.”
“Oh my god,” he whispered, his gaze fixed on the tiny baby in his arms. “I love her so much.”
Molly laughed softly, her eyes shining with tears. “I know. Me too.”
“Hi, sweet girl,” he cooed at the baby. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other in a subtle rocking motion.
The fact that I remained standing and didn’t melt into a puddle on the floor was a miracle rivaled only by the miracle of new life sleeping in Corban’s arms. My knees were in danger of buckling and my heart felt as if it would burst right out of my chest. A breathtaking surge of emotion consumed me from within. Awe, happiness, and gratitude that I was here to witness this moment, mixed with a dose of lust so potent my cheeks flushed hot.
I had never been more
attracted to Corban Nash than I was seeing him gently cradling his newborn niece.
“What’s her name?” Corban asked.
“Kaitlyn, but we’ll call her Kate.”
“It’s perfect.” He turned to me. “Do you want to hold her?”
My breath caught in my throat, my eyes darting between Corban and Molly. I was completely out of my depth, invading a family moment so beautiful and personal it made my eyes sting with the threat of tears. “I apologize for intruding. Corban and I were going to lunch when your husband called and then I stayed to keep him company in the waiting room. I realize you don’t know me well and this is all very private and I won’t stay long because I’m sure you’re quite tired. But I would very much like to hold your baby.”
I stopped, surprised at the torrent of words that had poured from my mouth. Especially the last part. But it was true. I did want to hold her.
“You’re fine,” Molly said with a smile. “I don’t mind that you’re here with Corban.”
“I should wash my hands. I wouldn’t want to be responsible for introducing any harmful microorganisms to her developing immune system.”
Molly and Martin shared a look—a subtle communication passing between them that I didn’t understand. I set my purse down and washed my hands thoroughly, then approached Corban with hesitant steps.
He carefully passed the sleeping baby to me. She weighed almost nothing, just a tiny body wrapped tightly in a blanket, a pink knit hat on her head.
Her eyes were closed, and a bit of dark hair peeked out from beneath the hat. She had round cheeks and a little bow of a mouth.
“She’s perfect,” I breathed.
Corban rubbed my back while I stared down at the baby, unable to look away. I’d always wondered if I lacked the natural biological instinct to procreate, since I’d never been one to gush over babies. But holding Kate in my arms ignited a tiny spark inside me. A little flare of desire I’d never felt before.
It was all quite overwhelming. After a moment, I carefully passed her back to Corban.
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