Dopamine Rush (Love Rush #1)

Chapter 1

VIVIENNE

If I were to collapse, lose all consciousness, and bang my head against this wooden table, what’s the worst that could possibly happen?

Concussion. Fractured skull. Internal bleeding.

Not pleasant outcomes, by any means, but I’d take just about anything if it meant I could stop working.

School is hard. Life is hard. Organic chemistry at the doctoral level is even harder. Mix those three, and you’ve got the perfect conditions for a raging headache.

Add in a large pinch of failed experiments, a catalytic amount of hopelessness, and a deadline by which you’d like to start writing your thesis, and you’re successfully inducing a mental breakdown about every other day.

Every other, other day, if you’re fortunate.

Regrettably, luck hasn’t been on my side, which is how I find myself entering the fifth year of my PhD with one out of three projects completed. And if things don’t pick up soon, I’ll be stuck as a broke university student until I’m old. And gray. And in need of a hip replace—

“Vivienne!” A loud clap pierces the air, startling me out of my daze.

I jolt upright at the sound, my vision swimming around the book-filled shelves of Brews&Bookmarks until it settles on a determined-looking Evelyn swiping my mess aside.

Crumpled pieces of paper, multicolored pens, and one too many empty coffee cups pile up to my right as she takes a seat in the booth across from me.

“Guess how long Sutton and I have been staring at you from across the coffee shop?” Evelyn rests her chin in her palms, aiming one perfectly arched brow at me.

“Too damn long, I’ll tell you that,” Sutton answers on behalf of my single overworked brain cell.

Her hazel eyes gloss over my appearance once before two cups of coffee are set before me.

“One of them was mine, but you look like you need it more than I do.”

I roll my eyes playfully at the comment, lips tugging upward as Sutton slides in next to Evelyn.

“Caffeine and most likely overbeating heart aside, we need to discuss our plans for the weekend. It’s the first official week of school,” Evelyn says, like we haven’t been busting our asses all summer, “and that calls for a celebration.”

Sutton’s freckled face lights up at the idea. “I wholeheartedly agree. And you know what I think would be super fun?” She pauses for effect. “Axe throwing.”

Evelyn stills, side-eyeing our oftentimes too unhinged friend. “Sounds like a one-way trip to the ER.”

“What’s the point of knowing a doctor in training if we can’t put her to use?”

That one earns Sutton a nudge to the arm, seemingly snapping her back to the original topic of this conversation. “So…Evelyn and I were thinking,” she starts.

“And before you shut down the idea,” the medical student tacks on.

“You should hear us out,” Sutton continues.

“I’m scared.” The words spill out of me with a nervous laugh.

“You should be.” Sutton’s eyes widen in agreement.

Evelyn brushes off the warning with a knowing smile and a raise of her shoulder.

I don’t like where this is going.

“Girls’ night out!” she announces excitedly.

My eyes snap over to Evelyn’s, and while I glare in disapproval, hers meet mine with a defiant gaze.

“Absolutely not.”

“If that isn’t the most enthusiastic 'yes' I’ve ever heard!”

“Consider it done. We’re going out to celebrate,” Sutton cheers before it fades into a purse of her lips.

“Actually, I have that engineering event later this evening, and Evelyn’s been summoned to yet another family dinner, but come nine o’clock tomorrow night, we’ll be on our way to tearing up the dance floor! ”

“Perfect! Does that work for you, Vivienne?” Evelyn turns in my direction.

I stay quiet, guilt washing over me for feeling like a bad friend.

Over the past couple of years, I’ve turned those girls down more times than I can count—all due to the dread of leaving my work behind.

I want to go out. I want to be the carefree twenty-six-year-old who leaps at the chance to live life. But I can’t—not when I’ll be in my head thinking about wasted time and the things I’ll have to do once the night is over.

“Guys…” Their excitement fizzles at my matter-of-fact tone. “I don’t know if that’s such a great idea.”

The girls trade a knowing look as though they already saw this coming.

Lab. Coffee shop. Home. Eat. Sleep. Repeat.

I’ve been tearing myself down trying to make my chemistry work for the better part of the past year.

And out of everyone in my life, they know that best. They’ll listen to my occasional rants.

They see me make a beeline for my bed after a long day.

We live together, but I’m so absent that they question if I’m ever home at all.

“One night off isn’t going to kill you, Vivienne. In fact, it might help you,” Evelyn declares, her eyes soft with concern. “I know you feel this pressure to dedicate all your time to your research, but breaks are a necessity. The best remedy to a problem you can’t solve is time away from it.”

My gaze drops to the table, the wavy grain of the wood serving as a good enough distraction. Deep down inside, I know she’s right, but her solution seems counterintuitive.

“Just think about it, okay? It’s a doctor’s order.”

A small smile tugs at my lips at the double meaning, and I somehow find myself making her that promise.

“Good.” A satisfied beam crosses her face. “Otherwise, I wasn’t going to give you this.” My hand catches the navy-blue notebook as it glides across the table. “Is that the one you wanted?”

I nod in approval, taking in the circled number four on the right-hand corner of the hard exterior.

Over the years, I’ve gone through one too many of these lab notebooks, documenting each and every one of my experiments. Whether they were successful is questionable at best, but that’s what all research boils down to—trial and error.

The familiar whiff of chemicals hits my nose as I crack the pages open. I flip to the latest entry, trying my hardest to ignore the jab to my heart at the sight of my 2-percent reaction yield. It might have been an epic fail, but with a little troubleshooting, this step could be successful.

I know it.

I feel it.

Okay, that’s a lie—but I’m hoping that if I put positive energy into the chemistry, I’ll get the same in return. So far, that’s been mostly unsuccessful. At this point, I’m just grateful Evelyn saved me a trip to the university by bringing this over.

“Thank you guys—for everything. The notebook. The coffee. Your patience with me.” I emphasize that last point.

Sutton waves her hand dismissively, an understanding smile softening her features. “Don’t worry about it. We’re all students—we’ve been there. Plus, that’s what friends are for.”

Two flashes of light go off, dragging our attention toward Evelyn’s phone. She flips it over, lips pressing into a thin line at her most recent notification. “Looks like it’s time for me to go.”

“I should head out as well.” Sutton slides out of the booth, allowing Evelyn to follow suit. “I have a fitting with the Loren Virelli for that event later tonight.” She squeals a tad too loudly, attracting the attention of nearby patrons. “What have I done to deserve this?”

“Worked your ass off,” Evelyn states the obvious with a wide grin.

And I couldn’t agree with that more.

Mechanical engineering student by day and social media content creator by night, Sutton has been dedicated to producing engaging science content for the past three years.

She’s only now reaping the rewards of her hard work with brand deals, events, and fittings with some of the most prominent fashion designers in the industry.

“Stop it, you guys! There’s no need for flattery.” Sutton brushes her amber hair over her shoulder before whispering, “That’s a joke. Please keep it coming.”

I sink into my seat at her absurdity, laughing as the girls exit the coffee shop, giggling just as hard.

The spark they’ve reignited in my day doesn’t last long, though, as I look down at the table. It’s one giant mess, and the worst part is, I have no progress to show for it.

Deciding it’s also time for me to leave, I tidy everything up, sling my backpack over my shoulder, grab my precious notebook, and head for the door.

Thoughts of checking in on my favorite coffee shop owner and his wife vanish as I collide with a hard body. The gasp that follows is immediate, not from the force of the contact, but from the gush of scalding liquid that sears my skin.

My gaze drifts downward to look at the prickling site of pain.

Jeans ruined with a brown mark. White Converse that are no longer white. It’s a painful sight, but it doesn’t begin to compare to that of my lab notebook.

Pages fanned out for all to see.

Permanently stained.

Ink smudged.

All the work I’ve done is gone, blurred away like none of it mattered.

The chiming of bells snaps my head in the direction of the glass door just in time to catch a glimpse of the culprit. Fitted navy blue suit. White turtleneck. Those goddamn red-bottom shoes.

He’s walking out.

The man who ruined my notebook is walking out.

“Hey!” I yell, swiping the remains of my work off the floor and slipping past the narrowing gap of the coffee shop door. “Where do you think you’re going?”

The warm September air hits my already flushed cheeks, and if my blood wasn’t boiling from anger before, it might as well be now. That’s only made worse by the fact that the mystery man’s steps didn’t falter at the sound of my voice.

He heard me.

There’s no doubt about it.

And while this might be good old, busy, and loud New York City, where every pedestrian minds their own business, I’d made myself more than clear.

Unwavering determination courses through me as I charge after him, dodging people left and right.

That signature burn quickly overtakes my legs, but I don’t quit.

I can’t. Nothing is going to stop me from giving that man a piece of my mind.

Not the pedestrians walking between us. And definitely not my lack of physical fitness.