Chapter 15
M y class ran late the following Monday, so I had to sprint through the quad and cut through one of the science buildings just to make it on time to our faculty meeting on the other side of campus. By the time I reachedthe entrance of Roble Hall and hurried to the designated room on the third floor, I was sweaty and out of breath.
I managed to slip in through the back just as Dr. Abel was getting to the podium and setting up for his presentation. Sarah and Lionel had saved me a seat near the rear of the conference room, where we’d spend the next thirty minutes listening to Captain Creeper give a presentation on ethics and sexual harassment in the workplace.
“You think he knows the irony of what he was saying?” Sarah asked as we all left the meeting together.
“No, he thinks he’s just being friendly when he tells us we should smile more,” I answered. “Although, the Captain seemed a little off his game today. He didn’t even crack a smile when he talked about the penal code.”
“I heard his wife just left him,” Lionel said.
“Are you surprised?” Sarah asked. “Even his hair abandoned him.”
“I swear he looked straight at me when he got to the part about dating students being an ethical code violation,” Lionel said.
Sarah rolled her eyes. “You’re imagining things.”
“A guilty conscience will do that to you,” I said, piling on.
“Go play in traffic, both of you,” he said. “I’ve got to get to my next class.”
“Biceps in that class?” Sarah asked with a smirk.
“I haven’t the slightest clue who you’re referring to,” Lionel said, walking away. “But yes,” he called over his shoulder.
“I’ve got to get going, too. I’m meeting my sister for lunch, so I can listen to her complain endlessly about her deadbeat husband that she should have left years ago,” Sarah said.
“Yikes. Have fun!”
“See ya,” she said with a wave.
I cut through the same building as a shortcut to get back to the music department. I don’t know how I missed it the first time, but right through the entrance was a huge eucalyptus tree that was surrounded by glass on all four sides. It stretched all the way to the top of the exposed ceiling so that it was technically outside even though it was placed indoors. I stood admiring the construction of it for a few minutes when I heard a familiar voice carrying down the hallway.
I grew curious so I followed the sound until I found the source emanating from a large lecture hall. The door was partially ajar so I peeked in. It was twice the size of my classroom, but nearly every seat was taken as its occupants studiously observed Dr. Alexsander Strovinski pacing back and forth at the front of the auditorium.
I listened in on his lecture about some complicated process in the brain that made my own brain hurt just trying to decipher all the advanced words and scientific jargon. But he spoke with such confidence and had absolute command of the room. You would normally see at least a few students dozing off or looking bored, but this group was hanging on every word.
“Automatic detection of an unexpected change in the sensory input is a central element of exogenous attentional control. Stimulus-specific adaptation is a potential neuronal mechanism for detecting such changes and has been strongly identified across sensory modalities and different instances of the ascending sensory pathways…”
Yep, definitely over my head.
But he was so magnetic up there that I, along with everyone else, had trouble looking away. It was as if he were the center of gravity, and we all couldn’t help but be pulled in.
I thought it was probably best if I didn’t lurk by the door and possibly disturb the lesson. Common sense told me the best thing to do would be to leave, so naturally, I waited for him to turn and write something on the board before I dashed to one of the few open seats along the aisle. He seemed to be none the wiser as he turned and continued his lecture.
I felt a slow smile spread across my face as I watched him. He was completely in his element, and I had to admit I was a little jealous. He was just as new to teaching as I was and yet here he was doing it so naturally and with such conviction. It was like he’d been doing it all his life.
I’m not sure how I captured his attention since I was sitting as low in the seat as possible in such a large crowd, but eventually, his gaze inexplicably found me, and we locked eyes. I smiled, knowing I was busted. He raised an eyebrow questioningly but didn’t miss a beat as he continued on with his lecture, pacing from one side of the room to the other.
Every time he turned to my side of the room, his eyes always found their way back to me. After a while, he stopped the back-and-forth pattern and stood directly in the center of the room. We were locking eyes so often that the rest of the room began to blur, leaving the two of us caught in a quiet exchange that made the crowded room seem distant and unimportant.
His voice carried a rich timbre, the kind you could sink into like a warm bath, soothing and all-encompassing. His face remained an enigma, a mask concealing every trace of his thoughts. But his eyes—those whiskey eyes—told stories his lips never would, and I clung to every single word.
The intensity of his gaze held me captive, making it impossible to tear my eyes away. He continued speaking but never turned his attention away from me. Eventually, I became distracted by the fullness of his mouth.My eyes lowered to those sumptuous lips as I watched them forming words but didn’t hear a sound. I thought of everything he might be able to do with those lips. How perfectly soft they would feel brushing across my skin. How much I wanted to feel them pressed against my own. My mouth suddenly went dry, and I felt a warm flush creeping up my neck. Holy crap, was I actually getting turned on… in a room full of students?
I pressed my legs together and realized yes… yes, I was. I still didn’t look away, though. I continued to picture his mouth on mine… fingers threaded in my hair… our bodies pressed together...
“Alright, that’ll be all for today, guys,” I heard him say, snapping me back to reality.
I slowly let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. As the crowd of students started to make their way out, I thought I might be able to slip out without being seen. That is, until I heard my name being called.
“Ms. Olivier, can I see you after class, please?”
Well, there went that brilliant plan .
I hoped he wasn’t angry with me for sitting in on his lecture. I waited until most of the students had left before I made my way to the front where he was still talking with a few stragglers.
Once everyone had departed, I asked, “You wanted to see me, sir?” I was trying to be funny, but it sounded more like a line from a bad porno.
He raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment on my bad joke or even question what I was doing there.He simply asked, “Are you busy right now?”
Just picturing us rolling around in bed together like a couple of rotisserie chickens… but besides that, no.
I cleared my throat. “No, why?”
“I’d like to show you something.”
“Okay,” I agreed, feeling curious.
He gathered his things, and I followed him up the stairs to the second floor. We headed down a side hallway, passing a few offices, when I noticed one with Dr. Alexsander Strovinski labeled on the door. It looked to be about twice the size of all the others.
When we got to the end of the hallway, Lex flicked on the lights of a completely vacant laboratory. There were several long tables in the center of the room with microscopes, beakers, and other lab equipment scattered across them. The walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling shelves stacked with far too many books to count as well as different models of the brain.
“Take a seat right here,” he said, pulling out a stool that had a microscope sitting on the table directly in front of it.
“Is this your lab?” I asked, looking around.
“I wouldn’t call it my lab,” he said, smiling. “But it’s the one Stanford is letting me use for my research for the time being.”
I rolled my eyes. “Semantics.”
I took a seat on the stool, swinging my legs back and forth. “So what is it you wanted to show me?”
“Hold on one second,” he said, rifling through a few boxes in the corner of the room. “I just need to find… here it is.”
He opened the box as he walked over to me and took out a small glass slide before slipping it into place under the microscope. “Take a look.”
I leaned forward, now extremely curious about what he wanted to show me.
“It’s a bit fuzzy,” I told him. I remembered from high school biology that I probably just needed to adjust the knobs on the side to bring it into focus, but I didn’t want to take the chance and break his fancy lab equipment.
He leaned over my shoulder, looking through the lens and adjusting the knobs. Our faces were mere inches apart. He smelled like clean laundry and general maleness. I breathed in slowly, savoring the scent of him, until he pulled away, allowing me to look through the lens again. The image was crystal clear now, but I still had no idea what I was looking at.
“Umm Lex, I hate to break it to you, but the only thing I remember from biology class is to steer clear of the kid who was overly excited about frog dissection day.”
He laughed. “Sorry. You’re looking at a tissue sample from a part of the brain called the pre-frontal cortex.”
“Okay?” I said, continuing to look at the image.
“Do you know what the pre-frontal cortex is responsible for?”
“Decision making?” I guessed, thinking that sounded familiar.
“Exactly,” he said excitedly, though he couldn’t hide the surprise in his tone. “But not just decision making. It’s responsible for impulse control, emotional reactions, as well as our focus.”
“Should I be taking notes?” I teased.
He chuckled again. “Does anything seem unusual about this image?”
“Not really, no.” It looked okay as far as I could tell but that wasn’t saying much.
“That’s because this is healthy tissue,” he said. I could sense him coming closer. I inhaled that familiar scent again, feeling the warmth of his body as he leaned over to change out the slides, his chest brushing against the side of my arm.
“Now, look at this one,” he said, remaining close to my side.
As soon as the fog of lust cleared, I was able to focus on the new image before me. I could definitely see a noticeable difference. The cells appeared more shriveled and distorted and just had a sickly look to them.
“This one looks much worse,” I said.
“It is.” He was silent for a few moments. “This is the pre-frontal cortex of a heroin addict,” he said quietly.
I froze. It suddenly dawned on me why he was showing me this.
This was about my father.
“I wanted you to see it,” he said almost apologetically. “I wanted you to know that no matter how much you love a person, addiction alters your brain on a cellular level to the point where you lose almost all impulse control. The person you’re looking at had virtually no willpower. We like to think we’re in control, but ultimately, we are at the mercy of our brain and how well it’s functioning on any given day.”
I didn’t move an inch as I continued looking at the fragmented picture. Tears started to fill my eyes, distorting the image even further. He was trying to show me what he and my mother had been attempting to tell me all along—my father had been ill.No matter how much it hurt that he wasn’t able to overcome his addiction, I couldn’t deny what was staring back at me through the lens—proof that addiction was as real as any other illness.
I blinked away my tears before I finally looked up at him.
“Thank you, Lex,” I whispered, knowing if I spoke any louder my voice was going to crack.
His forehead wrinkled. “You’re not mad?”
I shook my head before getting down off the stool and standing before him. His eyes roamed over my face like he was looking for any hint that I was lying. I could almost see the wheels working overtime in his mind.
“You’re going to hug me, aren’t you?” he guessed.
I nodded and waited a moment to see if he was going to refuse me.
“Ready?” I asked softly.
He gave a quick nod in response. I stepped toward him until we were toe to toe. I looped my arms around his waist, pressing my cheek to the center of his chest. I could hear his heart hammering wildly as he tentatively wrapped his arms around me. He was probably uncomfortable with the close contact, but I selfishly didn’t pull away. I could think of no other way to show him how grateful I was that he cared enough to show me this.
I stood there quietly holding onto him until his heart slowed to a normal rhythm. He had one hand pressed against the center of my back, while the other slid slowly to the nape of my neck. I didn’t have a single clue how long we stood that way, but I knew in that moment as I held him and he held me back that I couldn’t deny how I felt any longer.
I was falling for him.
I’d been falling. The time I’d spent pretending we were nothing more than friends had been a complete and utter waste of time. The truth had always been there, no matter how hard I tried not to see it.He was more than a neighbor, more than a friend, he was just… more. In every single way.
With so much at stake, this realization should have felt more frightening than it did. But I just couldn’t find it in myself to be scared. There’s a certain calmness that the truth always brings when it’s finally revealed, and I was ready for it.
I pulled back a fraction, still not letting go as my eyes lifted to meet his. He peered down at me through thick lashes, his gaze feeling like a caress to my soul. I felt his grip on me tighten, and his breathing seemed shallower as we stood there taking each other in.
I leaned in further without thinking. Everything in me was pulled toward this man. His eyes became fixated on my mouth at the same moment my gaze found his.
“Lex?” I heard a female voice call out to him.
The feeling of being doused in icy cold water hit me as we pulled away just as Nicky walked through the door. We weren’t doing anything wrong, but I’m sure we still looked guilty as hell.
“I was coming to see why you weren’t in your office, Lex, but I’m glad to see you’re hard at work here,” she sneered, looking between the two of us.
“I was just leaving.” I wasn’t in the mood to deal with her attitude today.
“No, don’t let me interrupt. I can see you’ve developed a serious interest in neurobiology lately.”
“That’s enough, Nicky,” Lex warned.
“What? Were you two just pondering the mechanism of renin-angiotensin inhibitors and their capacity for suppressing neuronal cell death?”
I knew she was trying to make me feel small for not knowing anything about neuroscience, the one thing that held them together.
“What we were doing is none of your concern. In fact, you should worry more about your own work rather than wasting time tracking my every move,” he said crossly. “Your work might even be a little better if you gave it the same attention.”
Ouch . I didn’t want to see the look of hurt on her face that I knew was there, not that she didn’t deserve it. She had no response as she stood in the doorway, looking shell-shocked. I would have bet my life he had never spoken to her that way before.
I knew it was time for me to leave. “I’m going to go,” I told Lex.
“I’ll walk you out,” he said, still sounding annoyed. I wasn’t expecting him to, but maybe he didn’t want to deal with her either.
She said nothing as we brushed past her, still frozen in the doorway. I almost apologized for causing such a rift between them. I didn’t have any ill will toward her, even though she acted like a total twat every time I encountered her.
Once we made it out of the building, I stopped and turned toward him. “Thank you again, Lex. You don’t know how much this meant to me.”
He nodded. “I’m sorry about Nicky. I know she can be tough to deal with sometimes.”
I gave him a tight smile. “Go easy on her. I’d probably be the same way if you dumped me.”
He looked taken aback by that statement and seemed to be fumbling for something to say.
“Anyway, thanks again,” I said, saving him the effort.
He continued to stare blankly at me, the shock never leaving his face as he mumbled, “You’re welcome.”
I walked away with an overwhelming, undeniable realization—I really, really liked California.