Advanced Physical Chemistry

by Susannah Nix

  As she headed to the bathroom to brush her teeth—just in case he wasn’t coming over to dump her—there was a knock on her door. She detoured into the living room and peered through the peephole.

  Caleb’s familiar bulk shifted uneasily on the other side.

  She threw open the door and his eyes lifted to hers. A chemical reaction occurred as they gazed at one another, but it wasn’t just about heat. This felt more like synthesis than combustion. Two simple compounds combining into something more complex.

  Before she had time to consider the implications, he moved toward her, cradling the back of her head in his palm as he pressed warm lips to her forehead. “I missed you.” His nose bumped against hers as they leaned into one another, their breaths syncing and slowing in relief.

  Whatever was happening between them had already grown out of her control. It was too late to protect herself now. The horses had stampeded through the open barn door and were hurtling toward inevitable heartbreak.

  She might as well enjoy the ride in the meantime.

  Penny curled her fingers in the front of Caleb’s shirt as she lifted her face to his. His hand slid through her hair to cup her cheek. He kissed her forehead again, and then her lips.

  This is it, she thought, closing her eyes as she felt her body relax. Equilibrium.

  * * *

  Penny lay with her head pillowed on Caleb’s arm as she meditated on the perfection of his torso. His eyes were closed, and his chest rose and fell in slow, relaxed expirations under her hand. She watched her fingertips explore the smooth trough of his breastbone, test the firm muscle of his pecs, and trace the ridges of his ribs.

  They hadn’t talked about what they were doing, or what was happening between them, although it seemed obvious something had changed. Penny was scared to bring it up, afraid that shining a light on it would cause it to disappear, like ice crystals melting in the sun.

  If Caleb knew how strong her feelings had become, he’d surely insist on ending things immediately. She couldn’t let that happen. She’d made her bed, and she intended to lie in it as much as possible while she still could. Consequences be damned.

  “I went to see George tonight,” she said, when the silence started to feel too weighty.

  Caleb’s eyes cracked open, and he turned his face toward her. “How’s he doing?”

  “Mike’s moving him up to San Jose.”

  He nodded somberly. “That’s probably for the best.”

  “He has to give up his house. The one he and his wife lived in for forty years. I can’t even imagine.”

  “I’ve never lived anywhere longer than four years, so neither can I.” His eyes looked almost black in the dim light.

  She felt a chill and pulled the sheet up over her chest, scooting closer to absorb more of his warmth. “My grandparents have lived in their house since they got married. They raised all their kids there. I think it would kill them to have to sell it and move somewhere else. Poor George. It makes me so sad to think about it. All those memories.”

  Caleb’s hand touched her hair. “You can’t live in the past. He’ll be better off closer to his family.”

  “I know.” She sighed. “It still makes me sad.”

  His arm tightened around her, and his lips brushed the top of her head. “One thing I learned from moving around so much as a kid: home’s not a place. It’s the people you’re with.”

  She pressed her face into his neck, breathing him in. The scent of coffee had become an aphrodisiac. She’d never be able to smell it again without getting turned on. A warm hand slid down her back, and she pulled his face to hers, enjoying the slow drift of pleasure as their mouths met in a leisurely kiss. She would happily stay in this moment forever, if only she could find a way to stop time.

  “It’s getting late,” Caleb said.

  Penny looked at the clock and saw that it was almost eleven. It really was late this time.

  “I should go.” He sat up and threw the covers back.

  She reached for him. “Don’t.”

  “I have work in the morning.” He sounded apologetic. Like he wanted to stay.

  “Don’t go,” she said, squeezing his forearm. “Sleep here.”

  His brow furrowed in indecision. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure. Stay the night.”

  He did.

  * * *

  Penny’s knees went to jelly as soon as she saw Caleb standing behind the counter at Antidote the next morning. Like a silly, lovestruck schoolgirl. You’d think she’d be past that sort of reaction to him by now, but apparently not. Maybe she’d never get past it.

  He wasn’t even his usual flawless self today. His shirt was rumpled, his hair faintly lopsided, and his designer stubble looked rough around the edges. He was still transcendently beautiful, and last night she’d slept with those tree trunk arms wrapped around her. A very small, very petty part of her wanted to climb up on the counter and shout the news to the world.

  His alarm had woken him before dawn, and he’d dressed in the dark before slipping out of her apartment with a soft kiss and whispered goodbye. She’d managed to mumble something vaguely resembling “Have a good day” before rolling over and falling right back to sleep in the warm spot he’d left behind. When her own alarm had gone off a couple hours later, she’d spent a few disoriented seconds believing the whole thing had been a dream.

  There were no other customers in line, so as soon as she was certain her legs would support her, Penny walked straight up to the register.

  “Morning,” Caleb said in his monotone customer service voice, but his eyes were soft as they gazed at her. “You want the usual?”

  “Yes, please,” she replied, staring back at him. Roxanne was rearranging the pastry case just a couple of feet away, so Penny refrained from saying anything else.

  Caleb held her eyes for a moment before he rang her up and went to make her latte. When it was ready, he brought it over and set it in front of her. He’d made a pair of hearts in the milk.

  “You need anything else?” His eyes were mischievous, as if he were daring her to say something lascivious.

  “Nope,” she said, refusing to take the bait. “I’m good.”

  He didn’t hang around to chat, instead occupying himself with busywork: collecting dirty dishes, rinsing them at the sink, wiping down the condiment bar and refilling the containers of sugar and creamer. But he kept directing furtive looks her way. Every once in a while their eyes would meet, and his mouth would twitch, and then he’d turn away and pretend to be busy.

  No wonder it had taken her so long to realize he liked her, if this was his post-coital flirting. Thank God he’d lost his head and kissed her at the hospital, or she would have forever remained cheerfully oblivious to the fact that he was interested in her.

  She took her phone out and pretended to read, but she was hyperconscious of every movement Caleb made. She kept following him out of the corner of her eye, until finally she just gave up and blatantly stared at him. He was making a cappuccino and she watched him top it off with foam, his mouth settling into a cute little frown of concentration as he poured the milk. His tattoo was peeking out of his T-shirt, and it gave her an intoxicating thrill to remember how she’d traced it with her fingertips.

  He carried the cappuccino to the counter and called out the customer’s name. His eyes fell on Penny and she smiled, but he still didn’t come over. Instead, he pulled out his phone. She watched him type something into it, wondering who he was texting.

  Her phone buzzed in her hand, and she jumped—he’d texted her.

  You’re staring, the message said. She looked up at him and shrugged. He shook his head, amusement twinkling in his eyes, but stayed where he was.

  You’re nice to look at, she typed back. Are you afraid to come talk to me?

  Yes.

  She smiled at the screen. Little old me? I don’t bite.

  I have evidence to the contrary.

  She stifled a laugh and gl
anced up to find him smiling at her. He shook his head and turned his back on her.

  You liked it, she typed back.

  She could see his triceps twitch as he typed another text, and she tapped her finger against the side of her phone while she waited for it to come through.

  That’s why I’m staying over here. I might not be able to resist temptation.

  To do what? she wrote back.

  She’d never considered herself a temptation to anyone before. It was exhilarating to wield that kind of power.

  Jump over the counter and besmirch your reputation.

  She crossed her legs, suddenly very aware of her clothes touching her bare skin.

  Come over and besmirch me tonight instead?

  The three little dots flickered as he typed his answer. What time?

  I’ve got my weight training class at six, but I should be done by 7:30.

  Don’t shower after, he texted back. Don’t even change your clothes.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “You don’t have to push me,” Caleb protested as Penny herded him out of her apartment on Sunday morning. “I’m going.”

  They’d spent the last four nights together at her place. In fact, they’d spent almost every free minute they had together.

  It was a dangerous game Penny was playing, but she’d moved beyond caring into the sweet embrace of nihilism. She’d be crushed when Caleb left no matter what, so she might as well soak up every second she could until then.

  Her one concession to rationality and common sense was maintaining all her usual activities, even when it meant kicking Caleb out of her apartment so she could go to yoga or her weight training class. Or, like today, to volunteer at the nursing home for two hours.

  “I’m going to be late if we don’t hurry. You have your phone, right?” As she dug in her purse for her keys, the plate of shortbread cookies she was juggling started to tip precariously, and she let out a squeal of alarm.

  Caleb deftly relieved her of the capsizing baked goods, which he’d helped her make this morning. He was surprisingly handy with a rolling pin and cookie cutter for someone who looked like he should be modeling underwear for Calvin Klein. “Yes I have my phone,” he said with an indulgent grunt, “and ten dollars in my pocket that says you’ve never been late for anything in your life.”

  Penny fished her keys out of her purse and opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off.

  “And arriving on time doesn’t count as being late, Amy Santiago.”

  She twisted her head to beam at him as she locked the door. “Did you just make a Brooklyn Nine-Nine reference? I’m so proud of you, I’m going to let that dig about my punctuality go without comment.”

  They’d made it through another season over the last few days and only had three more to go. Caleb didn’t know it yet, but she already had plans to make him watch The Good Place next. They should just have time to get through it before he left.

  Penny felt a pang of unease at the thought of the drop-dead date looming over them, but pushed it to the back of her mind as she started for the stairs with Caleb following behind with her cookies like a dutiful footman.

  “But I’ll have you know my punctuality is admirable,” she added.

  “Is this you letting it go?” he asked in sardonic amusement.

  “It’s good manners,” she said. “For the record.”

  “I’ll have the court reporter make a note.” They reached the bottom of the stairs and turned in the direction of her car. “What time will you be back from entertaining the elderly?” he asked, drawing abreast of her on the sidewalk.

  “Two-thirty.”

  “Perfect. That’ll give me time to do a load of laundry while you’re gone.”

  He didn’t even have to ask anymore. It was just assumed he’d come back to her place later.

  They’d conveniently avoided the subject of how much time they were spending together. Penny lived in constant fear that Caleb would suddenly feel the need to back off again in some sort of misguided attempt at gallantry. As if anything could protect her from what was coming.

  “You know, I’ve never seen where you live,” she said as they approached her car.

  “It’s not much to see.”

  She opened the rear hatch of her little white Kia. “I don’t care. I want to see it.”

  He leaned into the car to set the plate of cookies in the cargo area. “No, you don’t.”

  “Why?” She arranged her yoga bag up against the cookies to keep them from sliding around and turned to face him.

  “Because it’s a dump.”

  “It’s where you live.”

  He shook his head. “You’re going to be disappointed.”

  “Invite me over.”

  He reached up and closed the tailgate. “My roommates might be there.”

  “So? I want to meet them.”

  “Why?”

  “They’re your roommates.”

  “I barely know them.”

  “Invite me over.”

  “You’re relentless,” he said, but his eyes were glinting with affection.

  “And you’re stubborn. I’m starting to think you’re hiding a secret wife or a harem or something and that’s why you don’t want me to see where you live.”

  “That’s ridiculous. How could I afford to support a harem on a barista’s salary?”

  She prodded him in the chest with her index finger. “If you want to have sex tonight, you have to invite me over.”

  “Penny,” he said on an exasperated sigh.

  “What?”

  “Do you want to come over to my place later today?”

  She rose up on her toes and kissed his cheek. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  * * *

  Caleb wasn’t lying. His place was a dump.

  He lived near LAX, in a cobalt blue stucco house with a ghastly white ironwork railing stretched across the front. A stunted, half-dead banana tree squatted in the middle of a patchy lawn next to a driveway so cracked it looked like a window someone had thrown a rock through. The doorbell had a piece of duct tape over it, so Penny pulled open the rusty burglar bars and knocked on the white paneled door.

  Caleb answered it wearing a gray tank top and baggy athletic shorts. A sheen of sweat glistened on his face and arms. “You’ve been working out!” she exclaimed in delight.

  The corner of his mouth lifted. “Just for you.”

  She threw herself into his arms and he kissed her, spinning her around so he could shut the door.

  The inside of his house was no better than the outside, she discovered as soon as she’d finished kissing him. The walls and trim and fixtures were all painted a dingy, yellowed white that made her think of rotten eggs, and the floor was covered with patterned orange ceramic tile that must have dated from the nineteen fifties.

  “Don’t take off your shoes,” Caleb warned, following her gaze to the floor.

  Footprints muddied the tile and drifts of dust bunnies crowded in the corners. It didn’t appear to have been swept or mopped since the house was built.

  “My roommates don’t believe in cleaning, and I got tired of being their maid. We’re currently engaged in a war of attrition. These floors are the hill I’m going to die on.”

  “Are you winning?” Penny lifted her foot and her shoe tried to stick to the floor, reluctantly letting go with a sticky sound.

  Caleb let out a dispirited sigh. “I’m pretty sure they haven’t even noticed.”

  Her fingers itched for a broom. And a mop. And possibly some napalm to burn the whole place to the ground. “You know, I could—”

  “Don’t you dare. This is why I didn’t want to invite you over. I knew you’d want to clean, and you’re not allowed.”

  She took in the rest of the living room. There was a couch covered in mustard yellow corduroy, two ancient vinyl La-Z-Boys that had been patched so much they were at least thirty percent duct tape, and a cheap veneer coffee table covered in beer bottle
s, coffee mugs, old pizza boxes, and dirty paper plates.

  “It’s nice,” she said, trying to be polite.

  “No, it’s not.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “You shouldn’t lie. You’re terrible at it.”

  She struggled for something positive to say. “It’s got good bones. And the tile isn’t the worst I’ve ever seen.” Although it was definitely in the top ten. Top five, even.

  “The rent’s cheap.” Caleb looked around in distaste. “That’s the best thing I can say about it. But it’s only temporary.”

  Right. Temporary. Just like she was only temporary. Was he slumming it with her like he was with this dump he lived in?

  He put his hand on the small of her back and guided her through the living room. “Come on, I’ll give you the tour.”

  “Yay.” She edged toward the mess, drawn to it like ferrous metal caught in a magnetic field. “Maybe I could just—”

  “Nope,” Caleb said, pulling her back. “It’s their mess and it’ll stay until they clean it up.”

  The sight of it was physically painful to her. If she had a garbage bag, it would only take a minute to tidy up the worst of it. “Yes, but—”

  “Don’t look at it.” Caleb took her by the arm and led her into the kitchen.

  “Now I know why you always want to come to my place.”

  “The fact that you’re there also has something to do with it too,” he said, and she couldn’t help smiling in response.

  The kitchen was slightly less revolting. The floor, which was covered in more of the orange tile, was horrifically filthy, but only half the sink was full of dirty dishes. And the Formica counters actually looked as if they had been cleaned sometime in the current millennium.

  “I have to cook in here,” he explained. “So I try to keep it relatively sanitary. I refuse to do their dishes though.”

  Penny turned her back on the dirty dishes so she wouldn’t be overwhelmed by the compulsion to wash them.