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“I know. That’s why I like you.”
She jerked in surprise. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He rolled his eyes. “Oh, don’t get defensive. I recognize that tone from twenty paces. I meant it as a compliment.”
“Explain.”
“I mean, I like you as you are. I like that you speak your mind. I like that you don’t worry about getting your hands dirty, and that you get me flowers when you apologize.”
She bit her lip. “You like the flowers?”
He laughed. “Yeah. I think I understand the appeal of them, now that someone’s given me a bouquet of my very own.”
“They brighten up the place,” she said.
“Just like you,” he said, coming to stand beside her. “You make this place nicer. I think you could make everywhere nicer.” She sucked in a deep breath when his fingertips brushed her jaw, just barely skimming as he ran a finger up to tuck her hair behind her ear. “You’re the only real thing I’ve had in my life for a while, Grace.”
“No, Anton, th-”
“Shh,” he murmured and leaned in close to her so that his lips pressed against her temple. “You are. Now, listen to me. That’s your job, remember?”
Grace laughed and leaned against him as she blinked away tears. “I don’t work for you. I work for Lou. You’re just visiting.”
“I’ll have to buy the facility immediately and have that changed.” His hands moved to cup her cheeks, and he tilted her head back so that he gazed down at her. Their bodies pressed so close that hers moved in tandem with his as he breathed.
She raised her hands up to his biceps, fingers wrapping around the muscles she found there.
“You can’t buy CERN,” she whispered, breath syncing up with his so seamlessly that she swore what they were doing could be considered mediation. She felt the earlier tension rolling off her body as they inched closer, bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces.
“I don’t like being told what to do,” he said, his eyes dropping to her mouth. He leaned close to her, and her lips parted in anticipation of the kiss she knew was coming. Their opportunities for kisses had been few and far between, and this kiss was long overdue.
Odin, she wanted to climb him like a redwood, and only managed to hold herself in check because of the yoga voodoo magic their breathing had worked.
“So I’ve been told,” she managed to get out before his lips brushed hers. Their kiss was tentative at first, sweet in its uncertainty. Anton’s hands were gentle as they combed through her hair, and he slanted their mouths together after another gentle brush of their lips, kissing her deeper. A low moan in her throat made him pull her tighter, whispering her name against her lips with all the care of a prayer.
Men didn’t handle her like she was fine china, they didn’t kiss her with passion that made her toes curl, or her breath catch in her throat.
Men didn’t do any of this with her.
But Anton did.
sixteen
“The very natureof science is discoveries, and the best of those discoveries are the ones you don't expect.” —Neil deGrasse Tyson
Anton popped his knuckles and sighed, looking out at the night skyline, tapping and twirling the heavy silver pen between his fingers. It was quiet in his apartment, Grace having gone to bed, and the clicking of the pen was comforting to him. A blessing, as Anton couldn’t stop his hands from moving. It was a nervous habit. Something he did when he didn’t want to think or speak. He’d learned to be silent when he’d enrolled at MIT. In those early days, it was easy to go ages without using his voice, and he found he welcomed the quiet, so long as he didn’t look too hard at himself.
His first few months at MIT, Anton had kept his head in his books, his nose clean, and nearly every free hour alone, dreaming or inventing new tech capable of keeping up with his ever-changing needs. It was good in the quiet spaces then. There was no one to give him a suspicious look. No one that made him wonder if he belonged there.
He didn’t do well with that kind of attention.
Despite his reputation as a partier and attention-seeker, Anton had never been good with people, and trying to explain what he wanted to accomplish to the other students, who barely took him seriously, really wasn’t his cup of tea.
He knew the professors were confused at his presence in their classes. At first, they moved over him, as if expecting him to be playing on his phone rather than taking copious notes. But nearly immediately they noticed his unwavering attention and bit by bit he earned their acceptance. He even became a favorite of some faculty members, which pleased him more than he let on. His cohort took longer to come around, not that it bothered him.
He was a patient man. Always had been, and certainly could extend that to his cohort.
Not that he really gave a shit what they thought of him. What were they going to do for him that he couldn’t do for himself? And aside from that, being left alone suited him just fine. Too many people looking to him for attention, or worse, giving him attention, had pushed him down a dangerous path littered with booze, women, and impulsive decisions.
