Chapter Eleven
Jesse
After changing into a tank top and oversized shorts, I hauled my basket downstairs. I moved at a snail’s pace, hoping Mr. Gore—with his troll feet and bionic hearing—wouldn’t catch me.
I eased open the laundry room door, silently begging the hinges not to squeal. They didn’t. I was in the middle of a relieved breath, when someone yanked the door from the other side.
My heart leapt into my throat. I bit back a string of curses that would’ve made a sailor blush.
“Sebastian! Holy shit, you scared me.” I whispered loudly enough to disturb the entire building. “What the hell are you doing creeping around like that?”
Sebastian looked puzzled. “You’re the one creeping around. Why are you whispering?”
“Because I don’t want to wake up the neighbors.”
“It’s nine p.m.”
His condescending tone irked the hell out of me.
I pushed him back and went inside. “I didn’t want Mr. Gore to hear me, okay? He gives me the creeps.”
“He’s actually a nice guy. You just don’t know him well.”
“Nor do I want to.” I looked at the machines, one of which was working. “Why are you doing laundry at this hour?”
“I waited for it to get cooler in here. I was just on my way up to grab a bottle of water. You want one?”
I was taken aback. “Oh. Are you… going to come back... and stay here?”
“Sure. So, water or something else?”
He had a great smile. I had to give him that.
No man could date that many women unless he was gorgeous.
He wore a white tank top that showed off his muscled torso, and a pair of shorts that revealed toned, tanned legs.
He must work out like a maniac to stay in shape while having a desk job.
At least, I assumed he had a desk job. I had no idea what he actually did at NASA.
“Water, thanks.” As I walked around him, a whiff of his cologne caressed my senses—something fresh and citrusy made delicious by body heat and pheromones.
A wave of heat rushed through me as I set my basket down and focused on the task at hand.
I’d better get my underwear into the machine before Sebastian got back.
I should get in there too and wash the image of his sinfully sexy body from my brain.
When he looked at me, did he remember I’d seen him naked in all his glory? I sure as hell did.
I loaded the machine and switched it on, then walked over to one of the three mismatched chairs my dad had bought for this space. He’d enjoyed sitting here and listening to the hum of the machines. I found it soothing too. It forced me to slow down after a long, hard day.
The laundry room was a cramped, dingy space.
The walls were lined with crumbling brick, and the floor was rough concrete.
The unshaded lightbulbs provided just enough illumination to make out the rows of washing machines and dryers.
The air was thick with the damp mustiness of an underground space with poor ventilation, making it warmer than it should’ve been.
I wiped a bead of sweat off my brow. Sebastian and I were going to be stuck here together for a while. What were we supposed to talk about? I sucked at small talk, and our last meaningful conversation hadn’t gone so well.
The door opened and Sebastian entered, carrying two water bottles. He handed me one. It was ice-cold.
“Thanks.” I unscrewed the lid and took a swig.
“No problem.”
He settled on the chair next to mine. The backrest creaked as he leaned against it, stretching his legs out in front of him.
“You look comfortable. Nice day?” I took another sip of water.
“Decent.”
I cocked my head. “What exactly is it that you do?”
He gave me a half smile. “Basically? I write code. All day, most days.”
“That’s it? You work at NASA. I expected at least one robot or a secret moon landing.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, everyone pictures astronauts or rocket launches. But someone has to make sure the satellites keep talking to the ground.” He leaned back, looking almost bashful.
“I’m a software engineer at NASA’s Goddard Institute, over by Columbia.
I help build tools that process satellite data—climate modeling, mostly.
Evapotranspiration rates, drought tracking, water conservation systems. Stuff that helps scientists, farmers, policymakers… ”
He trailed off, but there was a quiet conviction in his tone that pulled me in.
“So you code for Earth?” I asked, my voice softer now.
He nodded. “Exactly. I build interfaces that help turn raw satellite data into usable insights—how much water a crop field loses, where drought’s hitting hardest, how we can manage it smarter. Some of our tools get picked up by open-source communities, even other countries.”
“You sound like you love it.”
His smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “I really do. I’ve always wanted to do something that mattered. I’ll never go into space, but if a line of code I wrote helps feed people or save a river… that’s enough.”
My chest warmed, unexpectedly. There was something disarming about the way he said it—not showy, just honest. A man who coded to save the world, one algorithm at a time.
His eyes were full of depth and intelligence as he stared at something only he could see.
Galaxies far away? Algorithms and space coordinates so far out of my understanding as a trip to the Moon?
For the first time since we’d met, I didn’t see a shallow womanizer.
Instead, I feasted my eyes on a man of science.
A man I could respect. A man I did respect.
“Did you always want to work for NASA?”
He pursed his lips in thought for a second. “I guess I did.”
“Why?”
His answer came slowly, pensively. “Various reasons. I wanted to be useful to the world. And also… I wanted to learn all there is about the universe, to find answers about divinity and why things happen.” He moistened his lips.
“Especially why bad things happen, and if there’s a way to prevent them. ”
There was something there, something deep, something hidden in the depths of his eyes. I wondered what bad things had happened to him, but I didn’t dare pry. Not yet. I didn’t feel I’d earned the right to explore more layers of this man. But I wanted to.
I caught myself staring at him, my lips parted in admiration.
He frowned. “Something wrong?”
We were facing each other, our knees touching.
I shook my head slowly. “Nothing’s wrong. I just… For a moment there, I saw you in a new light.”
His mouth curved into a smile. “Is that new light good or bad?” His voice was low, intimate, barely audible above the hum of the washers.
“It’s good.” I moistened my lips.
His eyes lowered to my mouth, and his pupils dilated, darkening the brown irises.
“Let me guess,” he said. “You’ve just realized you’re sapiosexual.”
“Sapio-what?” I was almost in a trance, trapped by his intense gaze on mine. The word ‘sexual’ sent a shiver of need straight to my core.
“Sapiosexual. It means someone who’s attracted to highly intelligent people.”
We were both whispering now, as if any loud sound would destroy the odd magic happening between us.
I swallowed softly. “I guess I am.”
“I wasn’t… until now.”
He reached out and gently cupped the back of my neck, bringing his face close to mine.
Then his mouth found mine, warm and sure.
I gripped a handful of his tank top, my fingers grazing the steel curves of muscle beneath.
When his tongue slid against mine, I moaned into the kiss, heat blooming low in my belly.
His other hand was on my waist, drawing me closer to him.
His mouth was giving, demanding, impossible to resist. His scent was intoxicating.
I wanted more. I wanted all of him. I was desperate to feel every inch of his body next to mine.
The depth and intensity of his kiss told me that he felt the same way.
I had no idea what might’ve happened if a loud noise hadn’t snapped us apart like guilty teenagers. Would he have laid me out right there on the concrete floor and torn off my clothes? I’d never know. My body still trembled with the aftershocks of lust, heart racing, breath shallow, skin flushed.
I scrambled upright, legs unsteady. I was mortified—and still wildly turned on.
Mr. Yamaguchi stood in the doorway, barely visible behind his enormous laundry basket.
Grateful and humiliated in equal measure, I bolted toward him to help, mumbling something that might’ve been a greeting. What the hell had I just done? I had never lost my head like that with any guy—never.
I shook my head, half in amusement, half in horror, and reached for Mr. Yamaguchi’s basket. It was heavier than it looked.
“Let me help you with that, Mr. Yamaguchi.” I hoisted it onto one of the machines. “Why are you doing laundry so late?”
He adjusted his glasses with a harrumph.
“It’s too damn hot during the day. I keep telling Mr. Gore to install an AC unit in here, but it’s like shouting into the void.
And anyway, I’ve got insomnia.” He glanced up at me, then his eyes shifted to the corner, where Sebastian still sat, very strategically positioned.
“Evening, Mr. Yamaguchi.” Sebastian raised a hand in greeting, but stayed firmly planted, legs crossed like a monk hiding a scandal.
“Hey there, Sebastian. You kids were hot too, huh?”
I nearly choked. If only he knew. I wasn’t sure whether to laugh, faint, or throw myself into the dryer.
Giving Sebastian a little more recovery time, I busied myself by transferring my laundry from washer to dryer, chatting with Mr. Yamaguchi as though nothing had just almost happened on the floor five feet away.
“How was your day, Mr. Yamaguchi?” I closed the door to the dryer.
“Hot.”
Seriously, was that the only word the man knew tonight?
“How was yours?” he added, starting to sort his laundry.
“It was pretty great. I meant to stop by and thank you. The social media ads you helped me put together worked. A gallery reached out. They want to feature my work in an exhibit.”
Mr. Yamaguchi beamed. “You’re very talented, Jesse. You deserve to be seen and celebrated.”
My cheeks warmed a little. “Thank you.”
Behind me, I heard Sebastian’s footsteps approaching the washer. I didn’t look. I couldn’t look. I wasn’t ready to face his... situation. Or mine. My heart was still recovering from its earlier sprint.
“So, you’re having an exhibit in a gallery?” His cheeks were still a little flushed, but he tried to sound casual. “Congratulations. That’s amazing. Let me know where and when. I’ll be there.”
I blinked, caught off guard. “You will?”
He met my gaze without hesitation. “Absolutely. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Okay. Will Candi be with you?” I asked, aiming for polite curiosity. “I’ll need a guest list for the caterers.”
“I’m no longer seeing Candi.” His voice was calm, almost gentle. “I decided to follow your advice and find what I really want—that unique, special someone.”
I swallowed hard, my eyes snapping to his. This wasn’t teasing. This wasn’t vague flirtation or accidental chemistry. His intention was unmistakable.
And it terrified me.
The air between us crackled, thick with everything unspoken. Guilt pricked at me—faint but present. But he’d said it himself: Candi wasn’t it. He wasn’t walking away from something real. He was stepping toward it.
Still, I couldn’t handle it. Not the weight of his gaze, not the pounding of my own heart, not the raw truth of what I was starting to want.
“I just remembered something,” I blurted. “I’ll come back for my stuff later.”
I turned and offered Mr. Yamaguchi a too-bright smile. “Goodnight!”
But the path to the door went right past Sebastian. And as I slipped by, he leaned in—so close I felt his breath against my cheek—and whispered in a low voice that sent a shiver down my spine.
“You can run, but you can’t hide. You and I are not done.”