Chapter 13 #2
“That’s...something we can discuss at the lab, James,” I said carefully, taking a subtle step back toward Austin. “Thanks for bringing this, but it really could have waited until morning.”
“Science waits for no one,” James quipped, seemingly oblivious to the tension. “I’ll let you get back to your...evening. See you tomorrow, Kate. Nice meeting you, Carson.”
“Callahan,” Austin corrected flatly.
After James finally departed, I turned to find Austin already walking back to the living room, his shoulders rigid in a way I’d come to recognize as suppressed emotion.
“Sorry about that,” I said, setting the container on the entry table. “James is brilliant, but he has absolutely zero social awareness.”
Austin nodded without turning around, methodically gathering my scattered papers into a neat stack.
“Hey,” I said softly, approaching him. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” The clipped tone contradicted his words.
“Bullshit,” I challenged, gently taking the papers from his hands. “Talk to me.”
Austin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Do you have any idea how intimidating it is? Listening to you speak what might as well be a foreign language with someone who clearly thinks you’re the most brilliant person on the planet?”
“That’s what this is about? James?”
“It’s about feeling like a complete fucking idiot standing there while you two might as well have been discussing quantum physics,” he admitted, frustration evident in his voice. “And watching him look at you like you’re the answer to every question he’s ever had.”
I blinked, surprised. “Are you...jealous?”
“I’m not jealous,” he shot back too quickly. “I’m just...aware of the gap.”
“What gap?”
“The intellectual one,” he said, gesturing between us. “You’re revolutionizing medicine, and I hit a rubber disc around for a living.”
“That’s not fair—to either of us,” I replied, anger flaring unexpectedly. “You think what you do doesn’t require intelligence? The spatial awareness, strategic thinking, and split-second decision-making in hockey is just as complex as what I do—it’s just different.”
“Different enough that your colleague didn’t even bother remembering my name,” Austin countered. “And why the fuck is he showing up at your—at our door at midnight?”
“I don’t know! I didn’t ask him to!” I threw my hands up. “And for the record, I don’t appreciate the implication that I somehow invited this.”
“I never said—”
“You didn’t have to. It’s written all over your face,” I interrupted. “You’ve been like this since the bar incident. Like you’re just waiting for me to realize I should be with someone who can discuss bacterial conjugation over dinner.”
Austin fell silent, his blue eyes studying me with an intensity that made me shiver.
“Is that what you think of me?” I asked more quietly. “That I’d choose someone based on their ability to understand my research?”
“No,” he finally said, his voice softer. “But I think it’s natural to want to be with someone who shares your passions.”
“My passion is science,” I acknowledged, moving closer to him. “But that doesn’t mean I need or want to be with another scientist. Do you only date hockey players?”
“That’s different.”
“Why? Because you’re a man and I’m a woman?”
He had the decency to look chagrined. “That’s not what I meant.”
I took his hand, forcing him to meet my eyes. “Austin, I could explain my research to you if you wanted to understand it. But I don’t need you to. Just like you don’t need me to understand the intricacies of your power play strategy.”
“I know,” he admitted. “It just hit me tonight, watching you two. You have this whole world that I’m not part of.”
“And you have yours,” I reminded him. “That’s okay. It’s actually kind of wonderful.”
His thumb traced patterns on my palm, sending tingles up my arm. “I’m not good at this—the relationship stuff.”
“Newsflash: neither am I,” I said with a small smile. “But I’m pretty good at figuring things out. And you’re worth figuring out, Austin Callahan.”
The tension between us softened as he pulled me into his arms, resting his chin on top of my head.
“For what it’s worth,” I murmured against his chest, “James Chen has nothing on you.”
“No?” His voice rumbled beneath my ear.
“Not even close,” I promised, feeling his arms tighten around me.
We stood like that for a moment. When he finally pulled back, his expression had shifted to something more serious.
“Kate, there’s actually something I need to talk to you about,” he said, his voice quiet but weighted with significance.
“That sounds ominous.”
He shook his head quickly. “It’s not bad, exactly. Just...complicated.” He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture I’d come to recognize as his tell when something was bothering him.
I waited, watching the internal debate play across his features.
“Actually,” he said after a long pause, “it’s late, and you’ve had a big breakthrough today. We should celebrate that instead.”
“Austin,” I pressed gently, “whatever it is, you can tell me.”
He hesitated, then shook his head. “Not tonight. Let’s just enjoy this moment. I’ve missed seeing you this excited about your work.”
“Are you sure?” I searched his face for clues.
“Yeah.” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Something felt off, but what?