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Kissing Her Crush

Page 21

by Ophelia London


  “No, we’re not,” Luke fired back, fists and jaw clenched. He gathered all the energy in his body that made him a fat, stupid idiot and channeled it into sharp focus. He seized Ivy’s open laptop on the counter and spun it around to face her. “Find the schedule. We’re fixing this now.”

  She just stood there. “You can’t touch anything. You’re the proctor.”

  “I’ll have a replacement here in ninety minutes. It’ll cost me, but I have connections.” He grabbed his phone and typed a short yet firm email to his buddy at Penn Med, promising him anything if he’d get here.

  “But how can you help?”

  “I have a degree in science just like she does. Where’s the schedule?” When Ivy still hadn’t moved, Luke stepped around her and clicked through to find today’s agenda. “I’ll do it all myself, if I have to,” he added, as he speed-read the spreadsheet. “But I sure as hell won’t let Natalie’s dream, what she’s worked so hard for, disappear. No way.”

  “Huh. I can see why she was strangling you that night.”

  Luke looked at her impatiently. “What?”

  “Nothing.” She shook her head. “We’re really behind now, and two men down.”

  “Where’s the final serum?” Luke said, ignoring her as he charged across the room for a lab coat.

  “Over there.” Ivy pointed to a fridge in the corner. “Bottom shelf.”

  “Is this the version susceptible to temperature?”

  “Yes.”

  “I won’t take it out until we’re ready.” He rubbed his chin and tried to think like Natalie. “Okay, I need three beakers, three syringes, and clean gloves. You”—he snapped his fingers at some random intern who happened to walk in—“get me gloves and two trays of chocolate, no three. Come on, let’s move.”

  “Did you call her yesterday?” Luke asked as Ivy loaded the first of the final set of slides.

  “Yes.”

  “Did you tell her?”

  “She knows we got a replacement for you.” Ivy paused and looked at Steve sitting at the desk Luke had used as proctor. “But when I mentioned your name, she threatened to light my hair on fire if I said another word.”

  “Dammit.” Luke muttered as he removed the slide from its latches. “I need another one. Haven’t had to use a microscope like this since grad school.”

  “You’ve been behind a desk too long,” Ivy said, pulling out a whole box of blank slides, even though they only needed five. “You need to get your hands dirty more often.”

  Luke chuckled under his breath, but it felt like his chest was caving in. He’d felt like that for two days. “You sound like Nat.” He tried not to let his hand shake when he spoke her name.

  While he, Ivy, John the pinch-hitting intern, and Steve had worked, he’d tried not to think about her. Too much was at stake to be distracted. But now that the rush was winding down, Luke thought about her a lot. Worried like hell that he’d blown the greatest thing in his life.

  “She knows the project is still moving forward?”

  Ivy nodded. “But she has no idea you’ve basically taken over her lab.”

  “Good.” He loaded the next slide and refocused the viewer. “No reason she ever has to.”

  They worked quietly for a few minutes, then Ivy said, “Does she know about the other thing?”

  “No.” Luke looked at her, annoyed. “And you don’t know about the other thing, either. Remember your promise?”

  “But it’s a huge deal. You should tell her.”

  At the moment, he wasn’t in a position to tell Natalie anything. She wouldn’t take his calls or allow Ivy to speak his name. Besides, Luke had already thought through the “other thing.” It was a done deal.

  “What if I tell her about it and she resents me—resents it? What if she resents me enough to not accept it?” That “if” was probably moot; it was clear Natalie already did resent him. The thought brought on another wave of the agony and helplessness he’d been living with. “No.” He shook his head firmly, channeling those heavy feelings into motivation. “This is the one thing I can control, and there’s no way she can find out.”

  Ivy sighed. “Then I won’t tell her.”

  “Thank you.”

  Another stretch of silence rolled by until Ivy broke it again. “Her parents are driving back from Harrisburg this afternoon, but not in time for her to make it to the lab before the data’s due.”

  “We’ll make it,” Luke said. Or this will all be for nothing, he privately added.

  “Are you going to try to make contact with her when we’re done?”

  “She doesn’t want to see me.” He exhaled and tried to work out the kink in his neck, but the aching had taken over his entire body, though the worst of the pain centralized around his heart. “I’ve left messages. She’d call back if she wanted to talk. She must be so pissed at me.” He heard misery in his voice and didn’t care.

  “She doesn’t know what she is,” Ivy said. “I know what she is, even if she doesn’t. Even if you don’t.”

  Luke didn’t have the extra energy to follow what she was saying. He could barely concentrate on anything but the task at hand. He clamped in the next slide and made a checkmark in his notebook. “I’m leaving for DC tomorrow. I planned on staying for a while, but it seems futile.”

  His heart beat like a fifty pound slug whenever he thought about leaving. Because he wasn’t just leaving Natalie, but his parents, his family. He’d be leaving Hershey—his home, and the damn enchanting way all its street lights were shaped like chocolate Kisses.

  “Hey. Check it out.” He slid the microscope toward Ivy.

  “That’s it.”

  Luke held out a pen. “You do the honors.”

  Ivy grinned, and Luke tried to find some kind of satisfaction in the moment, but it was hollow. He was hollow. So hollow and so out of time.

  It was the second day in a week Luke found himself driving toward Amish country before breakfast. Not until he spotted the “Welcome to Intercourse” sign did he finally take his lead foot off the accelerator.

  He’d banged on her apartment door and even begged Ivy for her parent’s address in Hershey. She was nowhere. Which meant, she was at the farm.

  He waiting impatiently behind a buggy at a four-way stop but was flying again by the time he turned onto the gravel driveway. Her car wasn’t there. Neither was her father’s truck.

  Luke marched up the stairs and knocked. Once. Twice. Three times. He was about to make himself at home on the porch swing and wait all damn day when the door opened.

  “Hey,” Brandon said.

  Luke was surprised. He knew from Ivy that he’d been released from the hospital the day before, but he didn’t expect to see him here. “Hey. Is your sister here?”

  He shook his head.

  “Was she?”

  The kid hesitated, then nodded.

  “Is she coming back?” When Brandon didn’t reply, Luke backed off. “It’s cool. I’ll wait in my car if you want, but I’m not leaving ‘till I see her.”

  “She went with my parents on a delivery.” He gripped the door jam. “It was a big one, and she knew it’d take them all day if she didn’t help.”

  “So they left you alone?” He regretted it the second it escaped his mouth. “Sorry, man.”

  “It’s okay.” Brandon shifted his weight. “I guess you heard what happened.”

  “Only that you were in the hospital.” He did a quick visual sweep of the kid’s wrists. No bandages or scars from a razor. Then he hated himself for even thinking that.

  “It was an accident.” Brandon took a beat, then held the door wide open. “Wanna come in?”

  He sat in the armchair across from where Luke sat on the couch. “I was building a model,” Brandon began. “This three-D puzzle of the Charger from Fast and Furious. I kept getting the tiny pieces mixed up, so I emptied a few of my med bottles so I could use them. I tried to keep all the pills separated, but a bunch fell down the sink. Then I could
n’t remember which pills went in which bottle, I don’t pay attention. There’s one I’m supposed to take only right before bed.” He shrugged and tugged at his cuffs. “I guess I took the wrong one with dinner ’cause I woke up in the ER after they pumped my stomach.”

  Luke felt pain behind his eyes. He swallowed and asked, “Are you okay?”

  Brandon nodded. “It was a stupid mistake, and even after I explained what happened and why some of the pills were gone, they made me spend the night there. I wasn’t trying to OD, but Mom…” He stopped and ran a hand across his mouth. “They finally believed me when only a tiny bit of meds showed in the blood test. They look at me different now. Well, Nat doesn’t, but she never has.” He picked at the frayed cuff of his sweatshirt. “I think she made them all go on the delivery today. She knows I can’t stand when they look at me like that.”

  Brandon sat back, shook his head and looked down. “Sorry, didn’t mean to unload all that on you.”

  “It’s cool,” Luke said like he was shrugging it off, even though he’d listen to whatever this kid wanted to say. “I’m glad everything worked out.”

  “Yeah.” His eyebrows suddenly squished together. “Hey. Nat thinks you’re already gone.”

  “I’m supposed to be, but I need to talk to her. She hasn’t been at the lab.” Luke was tugging at his shirt cuffs the same way Brandon had. “We finished without her.”

  “Nat didn’t finish because of me?”

  “Um. No.” Luke backtracked, cursing himself for the insensitive slip-up.

  “Shit.” He made white-knuckled double fists on his lap. “It’s my fault.”

  “It’s not, I swear. I turned in the trial results right on schedule. Nothing happened because of you.”

  “Wasn’t it Natalie’s project, though?”

  “It still is.”

  Brandon opened his mouth but didn’t speak for a minute. “You helped her finish it? But I’ve heard her call you the candy cop.”

  “Sugar Nazi.” The term made him want to laugh now. If Natalie only knew the truth…

  “But you helped her anyway.” The kid eyed him for a moment, his gaze as perceptive as Natalie’s. “You’re the guy who was following her in the parking lot that day.”

  “Uh.” Luke started bouncing his knee. “Sort of. But it’s not what you think.”

  “Wait.” His eyebrows lifted. “You’re the guy she got caught on tape making out with at Hersheypark.”

  “She told you about that?”

  “She tells me things all the time. I don’t think she knows I’m listening, but I am.”

  He sat back. “When you were here the other day, it wasn’t for work. You like her.”

  Luke was bouncing both knees now. “I like everybody.”

  “No, you like her.”

  “Yeah.” He stopped twitching, and stared at the floor between his feet. “Yeah. I like her.”

  Like. What a stupid, useless word. Like wasn’t at all how he felt about Natalie. It was too hollow and small. She made him feel full and electric, like he could fly her to the moon and back, and then hold her in his arms. He wanted to be a better man when she was with him, even when she wasn’t with him.

  Two days ago, when he’d decided to finish the trial, he feared he might’ve been throwing away the future he’d worked so hard for, the future he thought he wanted. And then, only a few hours ago, he’d willingly thrown that future away.

  At least, that was what the NIH had told him.

  Because of Natalie, Luke wanted even more out of life, more from his job and the future. But none of it meant anything if that future didn’t include her by his side, inside his arms.

  “I love her.”

  “Awesome.”

  Startled, Luke flinched and looked up. He hadn’t realized he’d said the words aloud. He’d hardly had time to think them or to feel their strength and realness in his soul and in his head…his head that had been too broken to trust her.

  “Don’t say anything to her,” he asked. “I mean, I never told her.” But suddenly, it was the only thing he wanted to say. The phrase was burning a hole in his brain. “She won’t”—he paused and raked both hands through his hair—“she won’t talk to me.”

  “’Cause she’s all pissed off,” Brandon said. “She’s so stubborn.”

  “Tell me about it. The only time she ever listens to me about a subject she wants to avoid is when I catch her off guard.”

  “So do that.”

  “Yeah.” He laughed drearily under his breath. “Should I jump out of a cake holding a sign?”

  “Dude, no. But you gotta do something. Right?”

  Of course he did. And it shouldn’t have taken a sixteen-year-old to make him see that. Luke was in love with a crazy, sexy, chocoholic, kindhearted, brilliant woman, and he’d do anything to make her listen. Absolutely anything to win her back.

  Suddenly, he was so restless, he jumped up and began pacing the room, while his heart pounded in his chest so hard he had to clench his teeth.

  Catch Natalie Holden off guard when he couldn’t even get in the same room with her. How the hell would he do that?

  Wait a minute. He froze in place. The idea smacked him in the face like a line drive, and before long, the plan was brewing.

  “I know what to do,” he told Brandon. “But I’m gonna need your help, man, and your mad guitar skills. You up for it?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Natalie pouted in the backseat of her father’s car. It had been years since she’d had a serious moping fest, and today seemed like as good a day as any, even though they were on their way to get ice cream.

  Ivy had called so many times that Natalie had finally turned off her phone, but at least the trial hadn’t been a total loss. When she’d seen the text from Ivy that it had been finished on time, she’d been surprised. But very, very grateful.

  So why didn’t it feel right?

  The landscape of Lancaster County rushed by as she glumly stared out the window.

  Yes, she’d gotten what she’d wanted and proved her theory was legit in the lab, but…the cost felt too high, like she’d lost more than she’d gained. The only solace was maybe she’d get to try again. But she wasn’t a fool. It was highly unlikely she’d get another miracle grant for phase two. This research project so dear to her heart was over.

  She slouched down in her seat and crossed her arms. She wasn’t in the mood for ice cream, anyway.

  Luke had called her, too. And she hadn’t picked up. She’d been playing make believe in her heart for too long. She should have known that the boy she’d dreamed of didn’t truly care about her, make her the priority. Neither of them were ready to trust again, maybe even love each other. It had all been wishful thinking, which brings nothing but heartache.

  And she’d been right all along.

  She was better off with just work. Just a quiet apartment and a refrigerator full of deadly mushrooms and eight bags of Hershey’s Kisses to keep her company at night.

  Luke’s eyes were on a government position in DC, while all Natalie wanted was to help make the world a sweeter place. Sure, she did that by inventing delicious ways to sell chocolate, but what was wrong with that? Worst of all, Luke considered living in Hershey beneath him.

  Had he ever said that, though? Or had Natalie made that jump? And just because she was a food chemist and he was a nutritionist didn’t mean they couldn’t get along. They got along great, actually. She felt closer to Luke than anyone.

  Her breath suddenly caught and she sat up straight. Why, exactly, was she a self-inflicted prisoner in this car in the middle of Amish country and not on a train bound for DC?

  Because she’d refused to talk to him, and now he was gone.

  She held her breath then pushed it out, concentrating on not crying. Which, of course, made her want to break down in hysterical sobs.

  She glanced at Muff in the other backseat. He had his ear buds in and was tapping his foot to whatever song he was l
istening to. He was also moving the fingers of his left hand like he was playing guitar.

  This made Natalie’s already broken heart shatter. Did Luke have any idea what he’d done for her brother? She’d tried to thank him, but she couldn’t remember if she’d even gotten the words out. She’d probably just grabbed him and kissed him instead, letting her actions speak.

  Gah!—the uncontrollable passion she felt for that ridiculous, gorgeous sugar Nazi was almost embarrassing. Will I ever feel that strongly about anyone ever again? she wondered, as she swiped a tear rolling down her cheek.

  Muff snapped his fingers in front of her face to get her attention.

  “What?” she growled, miserably.

  With his headphones still on, he pointed at her cheek, made the pantomime of ugly crying, then wagged his index finger.

  “I’m not crying,” she said, crossing her arms. “It’s allergies.”

  Muff rolled his eyes, wagged his finger again, then looked out his window.

  “Who has allergies?” Mom asked from the front seat.

  “No one,” Natalie replied, scrunching further down in her seat, getting back to her pouting party.

  “Your great-aunt Toby was allergic to the color turquoise,” Dad said, looking at her from the rearview mirror. “A color.” He chuckled. “Can you imagine?”

  “She wasn’t allergic,” Mom said. “She just hated it.”

  “Same thing.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  Natalie wished she was wearing ear buds, too. Her parents… They were trying so hard, so lovingly absurd. Like right now. Brandon said he was craving a Phillip Arthur special, so the next thing she knew, they were packed in the car, driving eighty miles round trip so their son could have ice cream. Natalie just wished Muff hadn’t insisted she come along. She’d rather have sat on the back porch and thrown apple cores at crows until she stopped feeling like crap.

  “You sure you won’t come in?” Mom said, as the other three got out of the car at the ice cream parlor.

 

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