Chapter 28
Mateo
“My thesis work focuses on identifying genetic differences between populations of Arctic invertebrates to understand how shifts in environmental conditions may drive adaptation and evolution.”
The lounge area is quiet as Charlie and Jett film on the couches in the corner, his video equipment illuminating them in blinding light. Doug adjusts the brightness, then moves the microphone to hover between them both.
Charlie pulls out every buzzword to explain her thesis, but instead of forcing her to reshoot the video two dozen times, Jett cheers her on as she explains the differences she uncovered between octopi at different sites in the Arctic.
I’ve read the paper she helped another PhD student with in her first year of our program. Her insight is brilliant, and though she’s the fifth author, she poured her heart and soul into the work.
A kernel of warmth spreads out from my diaphragm as her hands wave wildly while she speaks, features alight with excitement as she explains the laboratory process and the results of the paper .
Jett nods along, hanging off her every word. Not once have I heard him yell “cut,” and if I weren’t floating on cloud nine, I might take offense.
Instead, I’m watching on with a coffee in my hand, the one Charlie surprised me with this morning. I can only describe her radiance as breathtaking as she brutally woke me up and shoved the coffee in my face.
She proceeded to spend ten minutes talking about how she woke up earlier than me—she really emphasized the point—to make me the drink.
After she offered the play-by-play of her coffee-making expedition, she perched next to me and watched as I took the first sip.
I smiled through the bitter, assaulting taste of burnt espresso and sipped the scalding liquid like it was the best thing I’ve ever tasted.
It’s the same mug, but her botched attempt has been replaced with black coffee.
Charlie has been all giggles this morning, chatting with Vivian about the whale fall and talking in hushed whispers with Sofía while glancing my way. When I winked, they all fell into a fit of giggles, and Charlie’s blush reached the tips of her ears.
“Come over here,” Charlie beckons, waving her hand. She’s holding Jett’s phone with the other, giggling to herself. As I get closer, the sound comes into range, and I recognize my voice.
She’s watching my interview. What I’m unsure about is what in the video is funny enough for her nose to turn a cherry hue.
“What’s so funny, bruja?” I ask, leaning down to whisper in her ear.
Her lip quivers when she turns her head, trying to contain her laughter, but she loses it and chokes, waving around the phone.
“Sexy…Daddy…Bacteria.”
Huh?
When I look at Jett, he’s in the same boat as her, clutching his sides as they fall into a fit of laughter. I take the phone from her hand and stare at the screen, which is full of comments on my interview.
Who knew bacteria could be so sexy ?
If he was my professor, I would sit front row in his class. And on his face.
Did I just fall in love with a man talking about bacteria? I think so.
Bacteria Daddy.
I choke on the final comment before I shove the phone away.
Well, at least they’re kind comments, sort of. Some are a bit objectifying, and I’m unsure how I feel about Bacteria Daddy . Leaning toward I hate it and never want to hear it again.
“These are…”
“Amazing,” Charlie cheers. “When will you post mine? I want to get more views than Mateo.”
She and Jett exchange predictions on how her video will perform since her research is “way cooler than mine,” according to Jett.
She holds an unfair advantage. Everyone loves biodiversity and population genetics.
Only the super dope people care about the microbial composition of deep-sea ecosystems.
It’s me.
I’m a super dope person.
Charlie steals the frown on my lips with a kiss.
“Your video was great.” She pats my bicep in as lightly patronizing way, but I’m reveling in the simple kiss she offered. “But mine will be better.”
She’s had a good day, and I want it to last forever for her.
Instead of pulling away, she burrows against my side, slipping her arm around my waist.
“They’re going to put a movie on in the lounge. Did you want to go?”
I’m going to need thirty seconds to float backdown to earth before I can answer any question. I don’t know how to express to her what these small moments of intimacy mean to me. An innocent touch in public. A chaste kiss. Shared whispers.
“Sure, bruja.”
She detaches from my side but doesn’t move toward the lounge. Instead, her attention darts between my hand and my face. Back and forth until she reaches out and intertwines our fingers together.
“You’re being very affectionate today,” I comment, keeping my voice neutral, as we walk to the lounge. “Accidentally drink a love potion?”
I don’t want her to stop, but I’d like to know why.
“Isn’t that what couples do?” she asks, her shoulders growing tense.
“Some.” I shrug.
The last thing I want is for Charlie to pretend for my sake. To put on a face and do what she thinks would make me happy, or do something because it’s “what couples do.” What makes me happy is being with Charlie. Point blank. Period.
“Do you not like it?”
Fuck.
Her question is soft and so full of uncertainty it sends an ache through my chest.
I reroute our path, drag her into the empty lab, and flick on the fluorescent light. She releases a surprised squeal when I lift her into the air and drop her onto the countertop.
“This is against lab protocol,” she says, before giggling.
Fuck, I could listen to that sound for the rest of my life, grow drunk off the way it makes me feel.
Her arms wrap around my shoulders as I step between her thighs. I’m overwhelmed by her infectious giggle and the intoxicating scent of the balm she wears, the freckles decorating her nose and how her feet dangle and softly tap my knees .
“I couldn’t care less what other people do, Charlie.
I care about us . What’s right for us might not be right for someone else.
” At my words, she drags her bottom lip between her teeth.
“If you don’t want to be physical in public, that’s fine.
If you want to hold hands, I’m all for it.
But you don’t need to do something because you think it’s what I want or because you think it will make me happy. ”
She scans the space, pausing on the different machines and pipettes, but she refuses to meet my gaze. It happens when she’s lost in the maze of her thoughts. I’ve observed it when she’s stuck trying to write parts of her dissertation or struggling to identify and express her emotions.
“I want to,” she admits barely above a whisper. “With you, I think I want to.”
There’s this odd sensation stumbling around my chest—an unsteady beat as Charlie’s fingers drag across the back of my neck to tangle in the edges of my hair.
“I’m trying,” she continues. “I don’t know if I’m doing anything right, but I’m giving you everything I have.”
I don’t think she has any idea the power she holds over me, but I think it’s time she should know. She has complete control over my heart.
Fear grips my chest as I rest my hands on her hips.
There’s no telling how she’ll take the truth I’m going to offer her. I’m baring my soul to her—offering her the opportunity to crush me. But I’m faithful she won’t.
“There is no ‘right,’” I say, pushing a stray curl of blond hair from her cheek. My finger trails down her cheekbone, right along her scar. “There is only you and me. Does this feel right to you?”
Does this feel like fate to her? Like the stars she believes in guided us together?
I feel it, down to the marrow of my bones. With her, there is an inexplicable sense of comfort. She is both the raging wind before a summer storm and the first rays of sunshine at the break of dawn .
“It feels easy,” she says, “and it scares me.” Charlie’s head tilts. “Is it supposed to feel this way?”
“I don’t know,” I admit, shrugging. “It feels that way for me, too, though.”
Charlie’s nose scrunches the way it does when she doesn’t understand something or one of her undergrads asks an obvious question.
“You’re supposed to know,” she says defensively. “You are the ‘knower’ of these things.”
“I have no idea what I’m doing, but I’m pretty confident ‘knower’ isn’t a word.”
She exhales a large gust of air that tickles against my skin.
“There’s not enough room in this relationship for two people who know nothing about relationships. That’s my role.”
Her head jerks back, and her mouth pops open to form an O.
What is happening to her? I haven’t seen this reaction from her before, so I can’t pull out anything to combat what’s happening inside her mind.
“What’s going on up here?” I tap on her forehead, right between her brows. A crinkle forms beneath the pad of my finger.
“I called this a relationship,” she mumbles.
Oh.
Now is probably an unideal time to tell her she’s done it a handful of times, and each time I’ve wanted to hear it again.
Trepidation settles deep in my gut.
“And that…bothers you?”
My question is neutral, but I feel far from it. Every day with her, my feelings grow deeper—more cemented.
Her chin lifts, and her arms cross over her chest in defiance.
“I didn’t say that.”
“What are you saying, then?”
“I’m saying…I’m saying that’s what this feels like for me.” Her fingers grip my hair in a possessive way. “You feel like my partner. ”
I stay silent to allow Charlie the space to make her claim because it’s what it feels like. I might have also lost function of my tongue.
“You make me feel alive, Mateo. More than I ever have in the last few years. I didn’t think I would ever feel safe enough to desire a relationship with someone, but I want it with you.”
A lopsided grin forms on my face. “Well, that’s good,” I say, trailing my thumb along her jaw. “Because I told my abuela about us.”
“ What ?”