The Chemistry of Love(91)

“What kind of experiment is this?” I asked and then yawned.

“No experiment,” he said, and I thought I felt his lips brush against my forehead. “And in addition to fifteen beds, there are eighteen showers in this house. In case you wanted to test the repeatability of that particular experiment.”

I smiled and thought that I had never felt safer, securer, or more content in my entire life.

I’d never been happier.

We cuddled tightly, and he started stroking my hair. I wanted to purr like a cat and rub against him.

Instead, my breathing became slower, more even, as sleep clouded my thoughts.

The last thing I thought I heard him say before I drifted off was, “My brother is an idiot.”



“Hi!”

I blinked several times, temporarily forgetting where I was. Sunlight streamed in through the massive windows.

Lindy stood over me. I had been sleeping on the couch at Marco’s house in Vermont. And I was alone. I wondered where he had gone and at what point he’d left me by myself.

“Hey,” I said to her, rubbing my eyes. “What time is it?”

“It’s past noon. Everybody else went skiing, but I wanted to stay here with you.” She started cracking her knuckles, and it was like fireworks popping.

I groaned, and she asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I really hate that sound.”

It took her a second to figure out what I meant. “The knuckle cracking? How have you not stabbed Marco yet?”

“What do you mean?”

“He pops his knuckles constantly. It’s a Kimball family trait. We all do it, but Marco is the worst. He does it so much that it sounds like cannon fire.”

That made me sit straight up. “Marco? He never does. I mean, there was that one time.” At Catalina’s party. When I’d asked him not to do it around me. “But he hasn’t done it since.”

Lindy looked impressed. “Wow. He must really like you. That’s like the equivalent of a room full of roses. I’m really glad you’re here, though. I have a report for you on the lipstick. I gave it to some of my friends to try out, and I wrote everything down. Then after, I wanted to go through every cosmetic I own and have you explain to me how they’re made and what they do.”

“Okay, but can I shower and brush my teeth first?” I asked.

“Sure. I’ll come find you after!”

Not knowing how much time Lindy was going to give me before she tracked me down, I hurried to get ready. I wondered how many members of the Kimball family had seen me sleeping on their couch, most likely drooling.

Lindy made good on her promise, and I had just finished brushing my wet hair when she came into my room with an armful of supplies. I spent the rest of the afternoon discussing the science behind her favorite products, but what she seemed most impressed by was how easily I could re-create them for pennies on the dollar.

There was a knock at the door, and when I said, “Come in!” I was surprised to see Craig.

Not just surprised but distinctly not excited.

“Hey, Lindy—Mom’s looking for you.”

She rolled her eyes and gathered up her things. “We’ll talk more later,” she said to me.

Craig stepped into the room, and I felt self-conscious. “Excited for dinner tonight?”

Should I have been? I assumed it was just a family dinner. “Is this a big deal? Like I should dress up?” Were they celebrating Craig’s engagement again?

“No. We usually dress casual. Which I’m sure you won’t have a problem with.”

I glanced down at my sweatpants and baggy shirt and then glared at him. He was a condescending jerk. I felt stupid. How had I ever imagined myself in love with this man? Because he was nice to me for ten minutes in a parking lot? Marco would have followed me home to make sure I got there safely instead of driving off.

I didn’t know anything about Craig. His favorite sports team and video games didn’t count. I never had known anything real about him. And the few things that I had learned? It had destroyed any pretend feelings I’d had for him. I’d been waiting for a rom-com hero. I wanted the fairy tale happily ever after that my parents and grandparents had. I’d made Craig be that hero even though he didn’t fit.

He wasn’t what I wanted. He never had been. I’d made up this person who didn’t exist and put Craig’s face on him.

But maybe that man, my ideal man, was the one I’d been spending all my time with.

I thought I’d wanted Legolas, but all along I’d been waiting for Aragorn.

“You seem to be settling in nicely,” he said, and I noticed a venomous edge to his voice that reminded me of his mother. If I hadn’t already been grossed out by his general demeanor, that one attribute would have pushed me completely over the edge. “This must be quite the upgrade for you.”

“Did you need something?” I asked, not responding to his dig. Those things he’d said to me at the party—those hadn’t been butchered compliments. He’d meant to insult me, and I had been, as Marco said, “too nice” to see it.

“Lindy told me about the lipstick.”

That was unsettling. I was wearing it now. I reached up to touch my lower lip. “And?”

He came over and sat on the edge of the bed, close to me. “I thought we had an arrangement. That you’d bring that sort of thing to me first.”