Love Is In the Air Volume 1

by Susan Stoker

  The weird thing was they did exactly that. They talked about the moon landing and the current state of space exploration. They talked about the law, then physics. From there, they somehow managed to move on to Blumhouse horror movies and twist that over to James Bond, with both agreeing that Sean Connery was the best.

  They bounced from topic to topic with such seamless ease, that it was almost as if they were characters in a play who had rehearsed this conversation over and over again. Or a couple who had been together for years.

  Quantum entanglement, he thought again.

  It was unexpected. It was wonderful.

  And it was so damned inconvenient.

  Because how could he get involved with this woman?

  He couldn’t, no matter how much he wanted to. And God knew he did want to.

  Finally, they moved their conversation from the bar to the street, then walked the long distance through downtown and back to campus. Probably a foolish walk to take at night, especially since he was hardly paying attention to their surroundings. He was too wrapped up in their talking and in the feel of her hand twined with his.

  Then again, Jürgen was out there somewhere, making sure all was well. It was a lack of privacy, true. But one he grew up with, and it was so familiar that he barely thought about the his constant shadows.

  It was April, and there was a chill in the air. He gave her his jacket, and when they reached her door part of him wanted her to keep it, but another part wanted it back so he could wrap himself up in the scent of her.

  It was past midnight as they stood by her door, and she was lit only by the yellow porch light.

  “I really want to invite you in,” she said. “But I’m really not going to.”

  He wasn’t sure if he was sad or relieved. “Why not?”

  Her smile seemed to make her glow from the inside. And though he couldn’t tell in the light, he was pretty sure that she was blushing. “I think you know,” she said and rose up on her toes to kiss him on the cheek.

  “It’s too soon,” she whispered, her lips brushing his ear and sending hot wires of need spiraling through him. “But when it’s not,” she continued, “then the answer is yes.”

  “Do you want to talk?” Jürgen had asked after Leo—how was it that he was already thinking of himself as Leo?—had returned to his own condo, a four thousand square foot comfortable penthouse in one of the buildings just off The Drag.

  He’d wanted to live in a dorm, but his father had absolutely refused. So now he and Jürgen shared this place, and he simply told Mark and Clint that his father was a wealthy businessman.

  It was a story that was beginning to come in handy.

  “No, I don’t want to talk. I just want to sleep.” He didn’t want to sleep. He had energy to burn.

  Jürgen studied him. They were close, but they weren’t exactly friends. The man worked for his father, and though he pretended to be a college student, the truth was that he had well over a decade more life experience than Leo. Part of him wanted to ask Jürgen what he thought, but he’d meant it when he said he didn’t want to talk right now.

  Right then, all he wanted was to be alone with his thoughts and the memory of the evening with Skye.

  Jürgen hesitated, then nodded. “Very well, Sir. I will see you in the morning.”

  Leo nodded, then went off to his bedroom. He couldn’t sleep though. He walked the floor instead, pacing and thinking until finally he’d had enough.

  He knew he should wake Jürgen and tell him where he was going, but he left a note instead. It was three in the morning. He sincerely doubted a royal assassin was waiting on the street.

  He considered driving, but parking on campus was always a trial, and he didn’t want to have to move his car once morning came. Instead he took his bicycle and rode to the lab.

  The ride helped a bit, it burned off some of the energy that was rattling through him. But it wasn’t until he was at the whiteboard in Professor Malkin’s lab that he finally felt a sense of relief. A sense of calm. Time moved of its own accord after that, and he lost himself in the equations. In the scent of the dry erase markers, the feel of the felt tip against the slick whiteboard, and, most especially, the beauty of the equations that he was trying to work out.

  He was so lost, in fact, that he jumped about a mile when he heard someone behind him.

  He dropped the marker, and turned around to see his gray-haired, bespectacled mentor, Professor Jeffrey Malkin.

  “Working late, or coming in early?”

  Leo shrugged. “A little bit of both, I suppose.”

  “Jürgen texted me. He said I would probably find you here.”

  Leo winced. He should have known better than to think that he could sneak out without his bodyguard knowing. And, of course, he was trackable by his phone. He appreciated the bit of privacy that Jürgen gave him, but also knew that he was only doing his job.

  “Need to talk?” Professor Malkin had become both teacher and mentor in physics and, to a certain extent, in life. The man had an easy way about him, letting the world slide over him and taking what came in stride

  Leo tried to gather his thoughts so he could explain them to the professor. He wanted to share how much he wanted to be with Skye. And how he was glad that she’d shut the door. Because, strangely and against all odds, he liked the sense of anticipation. Of knowing that being with him meant enough to her that it was important to wait.

  He hadn’t intended to spend all night working out his sexual energy on an equation, but he was glad he did. It had given him a new perspective. He just wasn’t entirely sure what that perspective was.

  “Jürgen says that there’s a woman. Do you want to talk about that?”

  “No,” Leo lied. The truth was that it was a relief that the professor knew his true story. That he understood why Leo was here. That despite his affinity for physics, he would probably never have a career in it. How could he? It wasn’t even a question of probably; it was a definitive no.

  He could support other physicists, and he could review their work. He could discuss concepts with them over state dinners. But he would never be the one at the whiteboard again. Not after these years in Texas passed.

  The thought depressed him. Depressed him almost as much as the inevitability of losing Skye. And wasn’t that fascinating? Yesterday, nothing would have depressed him more than knowing that he had to leave his career in physics behind. Now something else had beat that out.

  He wasn’t sure if he should laugh or cry. Somehow the fact that there was something worse didn’t make it better. It just meant that he had twice as much to lose when he went back to Avelle-am-see.

  “I just want to figure it out. You understand that, too, Professor. I know you do.” He tapped the whiteboard. “There’s a whole level of understanding that we haven’t reached and so many answers I want to find. Quantum physics can be a pathway to a deeper understanding and a better world. ”

  Malkin nodded slowly, as if he was trying to follow the wildness of Leo’s thoughts. Leo understood that. After a night of no sleep thinking about the career he wanted and the woman he craved, he was probably being a little bit hard to understand.

  “All of that’s true,” the professor said. “But you have to live in this world. You can’t always have the job you want. Maybe you can’t always have the people you want around you, either.”

  He added the last with a small frown, and Leo swallowed.

  “We all have our roles, Leopold. Yours, right now, is to keep a very small corner of the globe functioning. You want to discover something enduring? Discover it in yourself.”

  “Professor—”

  The older man held up a hand. “You have so many resources that others don’t. Maybe the crown doesn’t represent the path you want, but it is a path. And if you walk it right, you could still end up exactly where you need to be.”

  “She said something similar,” Leo said.

  “The young woman?” Professor Malkin’s
brows rose. “I didn’t realize you’d told her your true identity.”

  Leo shook his head. “No. No, we were talking about legacies. And heritage. She’s essentially the heir to one of the larger law firms in the area. It’s a legacy she wants though.” He shrugged. “But she made a good point about carrying on. About some things being bigger than yourself.”

  Professor Malkin smiled. “She sounds like a smart and wonderful woman.”

  “Yeah,” Leo said, not sure if he wanted to laugh or cry. “I think she really is.”

  4

  He was there when she left the law school.

  Skye sighed when she saw him, only then realizing that she hadn’t allowed herself to hope. She’d wanted to see him. Wanted to know that this thing between them was real.

  She took two steps toward him, and he did the same, and they met on the sidewalk in front of the building, forcing other students to walk around them as they stood there like idiots gazing into each other’s eyes.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Hi, yourself.” He grinned, and that simple twist of his mouth had her feeling hot and tingly all over. “I wanted to walk you home.”

  “How long have you been waiting here? Usually I hang out and study longer.”

  “I was prepared to wait as long as necessary. I thought I might have to go inside and make sure I wasn’t at the wrong door. I guess we’re simpatico, since you came out.”

  She tilted her head to the side, her lips twitching with the hint of a smile. “Like quantum entanglement?”

  “Did you look that up?”

  “I did. Particles that have a connection even across massive stretches of space. It sounds like something out of a sci-fi novel.”

  “It does, but it’s real.” He reached out and took her hand.

  “Yeah,” she said, as the warmth from his hand engulfed her. “I think it is.”

  For a moment, time hung heavy between them. Then she shook herself, and forced a little laugh to shake off the need that was growing inside her. “So, I got an escort, and I didn’t even have to call the service. Lucky me.”

  “Well to be honest, I also have a favor to ask.”

  “Uh-huh. All I am to you is someone to ask favors...”

  They started walking, still holding hands and falling in step with each other. She couldn’t remember ever being more comfortable with another person in her entire life. It was like magic. “So what’s the favor?”

  “I told you I was taking that creative writing class? Well, I am completely stuck on the final project. Which is frankly my only final project.”

  “Do you don’t have finals?”

  “I have a special arrangement with Professor Malkin in the physics department. My research essentially is my final. And I’ve already taken them in my other classes. All that’s left is creative writing, and it’s kicking my ass.”

  Her brows rose. “I don’t believe anything could kick your ass. You’re far too put together. I think this is just a transparent attempt to spend more time with me.”

  “All right. You found me out. But honestly, I really do need help. Do you think maybe we could spend an hour?”

  “Yeah. I think we can spend all the time you need.”

  They continued chatting on the way to her apartment, discussing her upcoming finals and the fact that the summer was almost there. He planned to spend the entire summer working in the lab with Professor Malkin, a fact that thrilled Skye, since she was enrolled for the summer as well.

  Though neither said it aloud, they both knew that they’d be spending as much time together as their schedules allowed. Skye even looked forward to reading law while he worked out equations on a white board. She had always loved the scent of the markers. They smelled like education.

  “It’ll be a good summer,” he said, then squeezed her hand. It was all so strange, and yet wonderful at the same time.

  When they reached her apartment, he came in, and though it was his first time in the place, he seemed perfectly at home there. He settled on the couch, and she came over and sat beside him. Then, as if they’d planned it, they slipped seamlessly into the conversation about his story.

  “It just feels very flat,” he said after he let her read a small section. “But I can’t seem to fix it.”

  “Well, you’re not wrong,” she said. “The writing is great and your voice is strong, but you’re missing the depth in the characters.”

  He turned to look at her more directly, his eyes narrowed slightly. At first, she wondered if she’d pricked his ego, something she hadn’t expected. Then he said, “You have no idea how good it is to hear someone actually criticize me who isn’t supposed to.”

  “Supposed to?”

  “Like a teacher or a parent or an older sister. I tend to be surrounded by a lot of people who sing my praises, whether I deserve it or not.”

  “Really?” She tilted her head, trying to figure him out. “You still haven’t told me what kind of business your dad’s in. And you don’t have to if you don’t want to. But I’m guessing there’s a lot of people who fall all over you because Daddy is so important.”

  “Right you are,” he said, looking both impressed and amused. “You’re a very intuitive woman.”

  They were sitting side by side, their thighs touching. And, honestly, it was hard to concentrated. “Intuition didn’t play into it at all,” she said, forcing herself to focus on the words, and not the feel of him beside her. “You pretty much threw clues at me. But this,” she continued, tapping the tablet that displayed his story, “is what we need to be talking about.”

  “I am all ears. How do I fix it?”

  “Well, I’m really not an expert, but your story’s about a dinner party. And it focuses on the conversations that the guests are having, and how everything twists around during the course of the meal.”

  “That’s a problem?”

  “No. Not on the face of it. The story architecture is great. The problem is you’re not getting into the people. You’re writing them like cardboard. I don’t mean to be harsh, but there’s no life to them, and I feel like you don’t really know them.”

  “But they’re just characters on the page. How to I fix that.”

  “They’re more than characters. They’re real.” She could see he wasn’t following, and pressed on. “You talk about quantum physics right? About how there’s all this stuff that goes on unseen under the surface?”

  He nodded.

  “Well, think of it that way. There’s this whole other world going on under the surface. They’re not just letters on a page. They’re people, and do you need to breathe life into them.”

  “Fair enough. But I don’t know how to do that.”

  “Sure you do. You do that all the time.”

  “I assure you, I don’t.”

  “I bet you do it at work,” she countered. “You figure out what your dad is going to ask for, or you talk to one of his subordinates who’s fawning all over you. When you do, you know exactly what they’re thinking, right? So all you have to do use that skill to get into your character’s head.”

  She saw that he was nodding slowly, as if understanding was dawning, and she barreled on. “Try it now. If you were writing about this moment from my point of view, what would you write? What would you say on the paper that I was thinking?”

  Skye watched his face as the wheels turned in his mind. “Go ahead. You’re not going to embarrass me. This is just a writing exercise.”

  “Just a writing exercise?”

  She nodded.

  His lips pressed together as he nodded slowly. “All right. How’s this. Skye looked at Leo thinking he was the most incredible, manly, sexy man she had ever met. She wanted him desperately. His touch. His kiss. She wanted to hold his hand and run off with him. To hide away so it was just the two of them forever and ever.” He cleared his throat, but said nothing else.

  Her heart thumped in her chest. She knew he was teasing, but her reaction was all too re
al. She had to force herself to stay calm. To meet his eyes and say, with a sarcastic little lilt, “Wow. It’s like you know me.”

  His voice seemed to drop a notch when he said, “Do I?”

  She swallowed. That wasn’t the response she expected. She thought he’d been playing a game, but if so, why was the room suddenly so hot?

  For that matter, why wasn’t he kissing her?

  Oh, dear God, how had this gotten so off track?

  “Skye,” he pressed. “Do I know you?”

  “I-yes.” She cleared her throat. “I think you’re absolutely going to ace that final.”

  His voice was low when he said, “Right now, I don’t care about the final at all.”

  His hand cupped her neck, and he eased her forward until those perfect lips met his and she lost herself in a wild kiss that made her feel like the universe was exploding around her. The kind of kiss that made her want to melt against him. Or peel off her clothes and feel his body against hers.

  She eased back, her pulse so loud she could hear the blood pounding through her. “I, I think you’re distracting me.”

  He ran a lock of her hair through his fingers. “Is that good? Or is that bad?”

  “The kiss? That was very, very good. The distracting? I have to ace this final.” She reached over and grabbed his hands. “I can’t believe I’m saying this. I don’t want to study. But I have to study. I really do.”

  He kissed his fingertip, then pressed it to her lips. “I know. Terrible timing. I’m sorry. I simply couldn’t help myself.”

  “I like hearing that,” she admitted. “It makes me feel special.”

  “You are.” He cleared his throat and shifted on the couch. “Should I go? I don’t want to keep you from studying. If I’m a distraction...”

  He started to push off the couch, but she grabbed his hand and yanked him back down. “No. Please. I promise I can study. If I start to lose focus, I’ll kick you out. But I’d really like you to stay.”

  He settled back onto the couch, his smile going straight to her heart. “Good. Because that’s what I want to do.”