Rings True (Chemically Bonded #1)

Chapter One

Seth

Monday

I lean against the cushioned backrest of the restaurant booth, finally able to relax after having to be “on” all day.

I gave a talk during the morning conference session, then spent the afternoon fielding questions from competitors who develop similar drugs.

It took a lot of energy to ride that razor edge between being a scientist, excited to talk about my research, and being a tight-lipped corporate cog devoted to my company’s bottom line—the edge I’m not really sure I will ever be comfortable riding.

But the day is over at last, and between my adrenaline plummeting and the light buzz from the one drink I’ve had on a very empty stomach, I’m almost ready for a nap.

The restaurant is packed, the hum of conversation lulling me further to sleep.

Our waiter is young and eager, but a bit out of his depth with how busy the place is tonight, so we've been waiting awhile for our food. There are eleven of us, squeezed into a booth that seats eight. Javi says they do this every year—on the first day of the Annual Pharmaceutical Chemistry Conference, all the alums of our joint PhD advisor’s research group get together at the hotel restaurant, have dinner and usually close the place down.

It’s been four years since I graduated, but it’s my first time attending this conference.

My employer doesn’t send its newbies to share sensitive findings in front of competition, but I guess I’m no longer one.

I sit at the edge of the booth, next to me Edie, Belinda, and Javier—my three favorite people from grad school. Javi and I started our PhDs at the same time, the girls joined us the year after. They were the best friends I’ve ever had.

From how they laugh and tease each other, I suspect they’ve all stayed in touch. Except me.

I wish I could’ve. I really do.

Edie waves her arms around, almost smacking me in the face.

She’s in the middle of an anecdote involving a jar of peanut butter, her toddler nieces, and the family dog.

Javi smiles as he listens, his eyes on the beer bottle that he absentmindedly rolls between his palms. I have the impression he’s heard the peanut-butter story more than once, but he would never say so and risk hurting Edie’s feelings.

We all love Edie’s epic tales, as embellished as they usually are.

Belinda—Billie—is squished between Edie and Javi.

She no longer wears glasses, and her dark wavy hair, which used to be pulled back in a mercilessly tight bun, is now down and styled, with reddish highlights and soft waves.

She looks every bit the professional woman, even if her raised shoulders and hands hidden beneath the table reveal she’s still not comfortable taking up space.

Billie chuckles at something Edie has said, and reaches for her drink. I don’t know why I notice the movement, why I follow her left hand with my eyes.

I watch Billie’s fingers curl around the tall slim glass of her mojito, which is half full, with crushed mint stuck to the walls. She picks up the glass and brings the straw to her lips—

She’s not wearing a ring.

...

She’s not wearing that fucking ring.

...

What the hell?

...

My breath is stuck. My mind is stuck.

Everything falls out of focus—Edie with the windmill arms; Javi with the rolling bottle—everything except Billie, her painted lips pursed around the straw, her left hand clutching the glass, bare.

Unadorned.

Ringless.

Naked.

An eternity passes before I draw breath again. Then blood rushes to my head and I’m awake again, wanting to run, to jump, to fight. Wanting to scream.

Because Billie had never taken that damn wedding ring off. Not once in all the time I knew her.

Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe the wedding band clashes with her outfit or something. I almost laugh because “clashing with her outfit” would’ve never been something the Billie I used to know cared about. But this new Billie, with her hair and makeup done? Her, I’m not sure I know.

My heart pounds with a deafening beat.

Edie’s noticed something’s off about me, because she watches me askance, one of her eyebrows raised in a silent question. I pretend not to see it.

All this because of Billie’s missing ring.

I need to get a fucking grip.

Billie had gotten married to her high school boyfriend as soon as she’d finished college, the summer before she started graduate school.

The summer before we met. She never wore an engagement ring, just a wedding band made of white gold, which she never took off, not even when she had to wear gloves to work with chemicals.

She said she liked how simple and clean the band looked.

She’d gaze adoringly at it while wiggling her beautiful long fingers.

God, how I hated that thin piece of metal.

I hated it so much. Every glance at it spoke of how I was too late, how I’d been late to the race before I’d even known there was a race.

Before I’d ever met Billie, before I spent hours upon hours working beside her, geeking out, troubleshooting experiments, dealing with late nights, paper revisions, and nasty referees.

Before we became friends, the best of friends, before we talked about everything, except for the one thing we couldn’t talk about, which was that I was hopelessly in love with her and that she’d been married—she had always been fucking married—to Douchebag Doug, who didn’t deserve her.

He just happened to go to the same high school as her and had the good sense to realize what a spectacular woman hid behind the geeky highschooler mask, and he plucked her from the rubble, those were Billie’s words—plucked her from the rubble—like he was a tastemaker and she was fortunate to be discovered by him, and not like he’d been the luckiest motherfucker alive for having the privilege to even be near her.

Doug never liked that she was getting her PhD.

My guess is he felt the degree would make it clear she was better than him.

When Billie first joined the lab, he attended our group’s social events with her, but he would always stand by himself, beer in his hand, glowering, silent.

Within a year, he stopped coming, which was a relief to me, and I think it was for Billie, too, because she was never as relaxed with him around as she was when it was just her and our friends. .. Or her and me.

God, I loved those times when it was just her and me.

I lived for those times. It was torture, not being able to touch her like I so desperately wanted.

All those late nights in the lab, I felt the pull a million times and I could’ve sworn she felt something, too, because when things got tense and the air between us charged, she would reach for that fucking ring and twist it on her finger, like she was trying to ground herself, to remind herself of what she had at home.

I knew she’d never betray Douchebag and that’s part of why I loved her so much. She was loyal, my Billie.

I never said anything, and she didn’t either.

Sometimes I worried it was all in my head, the way she’d become my best friend, my reason for getting up in the morning.

Other times, she watched me when she thought I didn’t notice, and I saw such longing on her face, my insides twisted and it took all I had not to turn around and grab her, rip those goggles and lab coat off her, and rail her right there on the lab bench, glassware shattering to the ground.

And here we are, eight years after I’d first met her, four years after I left the lab and the torture that was seeing her every day, knowing we’d be amazing together but that we’d never get a chance, and she’s not wearing that goddamn ring.

I can only imagine how I appear at the moment, because my heart is racing, sweat pebbling on my brow. Billie gives me a quizzical look, and Edie’s face is pinched with unmistakable concern.

What puzzles me is that no one else has said anything about the ring. I can’t imagine the others haven’t noticed it missing, that Edie hasn’t asked about it. Do they know something I don’t? Should I say something? Should I wait?

Right when I feel like I might have a stroke, Edie and Billie get up to go to the bathroom. I sigh with relief and stand up to let them pass.

When I sit back down, I scoot over to Javi as he takes a swig of his beer. “Did you notice Billie’s not wearing her wedding ring?” I ask.

He downs a few gulps and raises an eyebrow. “Yeah? I mean, sure.”

“What do you mean, sure?”

“She got a divorce. It was finalized a few months ago.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Javi winces. “What exactly did you expect me to do? Send an email with the subject ‘Billie’s single again’?”

“Yes!”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffs. “You’ve made it clear you’re not interested in keeping in touch.

With any of us. The only reason you’re here now is because I’ve noticed you in the conference program, so I knew you’d be here.

But I don’t have the faintest idea what you’ve been up to all this time. ”

I open my mouth to protest, but he’s right.

I did sever contact with everyone. I left everything behind because leaving married Billie behind was a respite from torture.

I couldn’t take being in contact with anyone who knew her, because I couldn’t stand to see pictures of her smiling babies and stories of family bliss.

“Look, it’s not like I don’t get it,” says Javi, his face softening. “We all get it. But it still sucks that you had to fall off the face of the Earth.”

“What?” I frown, confused. “What do you get?”

“That it’s hard staying in touch. Because of Billie.”

I feel I should say something, but there’s nothing to say. Because he’s one hundred percent right.

“Oh, come on, don’t play dumb.” Javi’s voice is mostly amused, with a tinge of exasperation. “You’ve always been into her. It was pretty obvious. Made for some thick sexual tension; I thought we’d have to stick you two under the fume hood to syphon out all the pheromones.”

I think I’m going to be sick. “Did ... everyone know?”

“Pretty much. You weren’t subtle about it.”

“Fuck.”

“I will also note that you’re not denying it.”

“Fuck. Fuck!” I rub my eyes with the balls of my thumbs. “Do you think she knew, too?”

Javi shrugs. “No idea. She would’ve had to be blind not to see it. Then again, she never brought it up, so who knows?”

I take a deep breath, then several more, trying to get my bearings. Javi gives me time, watching me patiently. His calm unnerves me.

“We never did anything, you know,” I say. “She never even hinted at anything. She was loyal to Doug.”

Javi nods. “I know.”

“Fuck!” I throw my head back until it hits the backrest. “I can’t believe everyone knew.”

“Hey.” Javi reaches out and slaps me on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it too much. People have lab crushes all the time. And for what it’s worth, I’ve always thought there’s something there.”

I put my head in my hands. “It wasn’t a crush. She’s ... she’s my soulmate.”

Javi sighs, long and deep, like my misery is a huge annoyance. “Look,” he says, “I can’t believe you’re into this whole soulmate business, but if that’s how you feel, you should go for it.”

“How? I live in Philly, she lives in Raleigh.”

“Pfft.” He waves me off. “You could move. Or she could.”

In the corner of my eye, I see Edie and Billie coming back from the restroom.

“Just go for it,” Javi insists. “She likes you. I’m sure she does. This is your chance; you might not get another one. She won’t be single for long.”

Billie and Edie don’t make it all the way back, but instead stop by a neighboring table to chat with people we all know from another lab.

As Billie smiles and shakes hands, I take in her form.

She’s really grown into herself, looking polished in a jacket over a nice fitted dress.

Back when I knew her, she wore a lab coat over baggy clothes.

She kept herself hidden, yet I still wanted her, all of her parts that I could see—her perfect skin, her quick smile, her long slender fingers, the shell of her ear that I spent a ridiculous amount of time imagining myself running my tongue over.

But now I see a grownup Billie, with wide hips and strong calves, the muscles taut and shapely as she stands tall in leather pumps.

She’s elegant and confident, so different from the girl I used to know. ..

Then her eyes dart to me and I recognize her—it’s her face, my Billie’s face. I don’t know what she sees in my expression, but she loses the easy smile. Her eyes widen as emotions flicker on the canvas of her skin, a faint blush tinting her cheeks.

She’s not immune to me. I know it. I always have. And now I know she knows it, too.

I’ve waited long enough. I won’t wait anymore.

I leap off my seat.

“Dude,” Javi mutters, “I didn’t mean go for it right this instant. Don’t make a scene.”

“I won’t make a scene. I’m just going to talk to one of my former labmates.”

“The one everyone knows you’ve always had a giant boner for.”

“If everyone knows, then this won’t be a surprise.” I roll my shoulders like a boxer before a fight. “Wish me luck.”

Javi chuckles and gives me a fist bump.