Love and the Laws of Motion Page 13

  Chapter Nineteen

  Nick was already awake when the first gray hints of dawn made it into his room. He’d been lying there, staring at the ceiling for hours, terrified he’d ruined everything.

  He’d kissed Livie. He’d kissed her.

  Over the years, he’d kissed plenty of girls. Sometimes because he was into her. Sometimes because he was into her for the night. Sometimes he wasn’t into her at all, but everybody was drunk and why not? Kissing was harmless, all in good fun, and no big deal, as long as everybody was on the same page.

  Last night was a very big deal. Livie wasn’t some random girl to share a casual lip-lock with. First, she was his friend, and as she’d so accurately pointed out the night he first came here, he didn’t have too many of those.

  Second—yesterday. No one was ever going to accuse him of being deeply introspective. Examining his own motivations and emotions wasn’t something he regularly did. But even he was aware that yesterday he’d been processing a lot of shit, and grabbing his nearest female friend and sticking his tongue down her throat was perhaps not a wise move. He was a roiling ball of pain and anger, and he’d been drinking. Taking it out on Livie was unfair as hell.

  Third, considering what she’d told him last night, he was pretty sure Livie had never been backed up against a door and kissed like that. When it finally happened, it shouldn’t have been with some fucked-up hot mess who’d just found out his fiancée had been cheating on him with a guy named Klaus. She was great, and she deserved someone great who would treat her great. Even if he was in his right mind right now—which he most certainly was not—he was not that guy.

  Last night, she’d seemed okay. She’d accepted his apology and told him not to worry about it. But was that true? Had he done something impossible to undo? Would things be forever awkward between them now? It would really suck if that were the case, because—as he’d realized as he’d laid in the dark all night castigating himself—he’d come to value her friendship. More than value it, he needed it. If he’d fucked things up and lost her, he’d never forgive himself.

  Looking for any excuse to stall, he checked his phone. There was a new text sent in the middle of the night. From Poppy.

  I’m sorry.

  She was sorry? About which part? Breaking up with him? Cheating on him? Getting caught at it? A week ago, he’d been desperate for a word from her, but now her vague apology for something so monumental made him mad. Go have a nice fucking life with Klaus, Poppy. He no longer gave a shit. Whatever he thought they’d been doing together for the past year, looking back on it now, it all seemed like a colossal waste of time. He tossed the phone back on the nightstand in disgust.

  How long could he hang out in bed before he’d be considered hiding? This long, he decided, forcing himself up. Time to face the music.

  There weren’t even any other Romanos around to offer distraction. Last night was Saturday, and he’d spent long enough with this family to know that Gemma and John would have gotten home late and would sleep away the morning. Jess was over at Alex’s place, as she was most nights. There would be just him and Livie.

  Spudge was waiting right outside his door, tail thumping against the floor.

  “Hey, buddy. We’re still good, right?”

  Spudge groaned in assent, then heaved himself to his feet to follow Nick downstairs. He was still arguing with himself about how best to play it off when he reached the kitchen and found Livie already there, making coffee. He froze as she glanced over her shoulder.

  “Perfect timing. Coffee’s ready.”

  “Um, good.” She seemed to be willing to move on as if nothing happened, and part of him was sorely tempted to do the same. But he wasn’t a socially awkward sixteen-year-old anymore. Livie was his friend, and last night, he’d fucked up with his friend. She deserved a decent apology from him, not whatever pathetic garbage he’d mumbled in a panic last night before he’d fled.

  “Look, Livie, about what happened last night—”

  She spun around, smiling brightly. “Don’t worry about it, Nick.” That damned smile of hers caught him right between the ribs every time, even when she was patently faking it, like now.

  “I feel like I should apologize—”

  “There’s really no need.” She was facing him, but her eyes weren’t meeting his. They were focused on a spot somewhere over his left shoulder. “You were drinking, you were upset, you weren’t thinking straight. It’s fine.”

  When she laid it all out like that, it sounded like a bunch of clichéd lines, even to his own ears. But what part wasn’t true? He’d just found out his fiancée had been cheating on him. He’d been drinking. He was definitely not thinking clearly last night. But he wished he’d reacted in just about any other way than that one.

  “I want to make sure you’re okay. That I didn’t—” He stopped and blew out a breath. “You’re a good friend, and I really hope I didn’t screw that up last night.”

  Livie exhaled, too, then finally looked him in the eye. “You didn’t. I promise.”

  That should have been reassuring, but he didn’t quite believe her. He didn’t believe that smile and he didn’t believe that suspicious brightness in her eyes. But he wasn’t going to push. After what he’d done, she was allowed to play this any way she wanted.

  “Okay,” he finally conceded. “Thank you.”

  “I gotta go.” She moved to the table to close up her messenger bag. “I’ve got a meeting at school.”

  “It’s Sunday.”

  “With Michiko. About some research.”

  Livie was a terrible liar. He felt awful, knowing she was trying to escape him. But maybe she needed some space. He’d give that to her. It was the least he could do. “Okay. I’m going to spend some time on the program tonight, if you’re around.”

  “Sure. Yes. I’ll be here. See you then.”

  “Yeah, see you.” She squeezed past him on her way out of the kitchen. Her hair brushed his arm and he caught a whiff of that soft flowery scent of hers.

  Then she was gone, leaving him alone to face another really inconvenient truth, one he’d been desperately trying to avoid all night long.

  Kissing Livie had been fucking amazing, and forgetting it was going to be hard as hell.

  Chapter Twenty

  Livie stared at Langley’s office door, summoning the courage to lift her hand and knock.

  The email had come through on Monday morning, a short, official missive from the university to all the Astronomy undergrads and PhD candidates: Professor Langley had been named Acting Chair while Professor Finch was out.

  For Livie, it was a terrible blow. First, Janet was going to be out long enough that an Acting Chair needed to be named. Second, that the Acting Chair would be Langley. She still hadn’t gotten over that fight she’d walked in on. In her heart, she blamed him for what happened. And in her gut, she didn’t trust him.

  Still, he was in charge now, and when his email had come a few hours after the official announcement, telling her to come in for a meeting to discuss her dissertation, she couldn’t exactly refuse.

  Taking a deep breath, she raised her hand and knocked.

  “Come in,” Langley called from inside. His voice was different than his usual speaking voice—lower, more resonant. If she didn’t know any better, she’d suspect he’d been practicing that “come in” for maximum effect. It would be so like him.

  Langley’s office—unlike Janet’s—looked like a photo in a brochure of what a fancy British professor’s office would look like. Janet’s office was littered with a mish-mash of battered, university-issued furniture. Langley had brought in his own, a large mahogany desk and several matching bookshelves. He had a rug on the floor and his desk chair was a huge padded leather thing. There were a few astronomy texts on the bookshelves, all of them in pristine condition, but there was also open space, artfully fil
led in with sculptures and awards. Which awards, she had no idea. She found the idea of anyone awarding Langley anything for his research astonishing.

  He was behind his desk, peering at his laptop, a stupidly small silver thing. It was the only piece of computer equipment in the room. How did he do his job without a bank of computers? There had to be some other office where his actual work happened and this one was just for show, to impress students and university administration.

  Although he was roughly the same age as Janet, somewhere in his late fifties or early sixties, he looked a decade younger—or at least he was trying to look a decade younger. Like some kind of European movie star, he wore blazers over cashmere sweaters and weird, tight pants. And loafers. He wore loafers with no socks, even in the winter. His dark hair was thick and very carefully styled, not a hint of gray. She could almost hear Gemma in her head, snarking about male hair dye, and she wouldn’t put it past him. He probably spent more on his hair than she got in her graduate student stipend.

  He didn’t look up as she came in, still reading something on his laptop, peering through his glasses—arty, titanium half-rims perched on the end of his nose. As Livie approached his desk, she thought she spotted the blue band of Facebook across the top of his screen. Of course.

  “Professor Langley? You wanted to see me?”

  Langley glanced up, looking surprised to see her there, even though he’d requested the meeting himself a few hours earlier. “Olivia! Have a seat. And you know you can call me William.”

  “Okay,” she murmured as she sat. She was never, ever going to call him William.

  The two chairs facing his desk were significantly shorter than the one he sat in. They were too short for his desk, even, making her feel like a little kid trying to peer over the top. He turned to face her, lacing his fingers together on the leather blotter on his desk and leaning forward on his elbows. In the few moments since she’d entered the room until now, his distracted smile had shifted, his face transforming to a picture of concern and sympathy.

  “Olivia, this business with Dr. Finch is terribly unfortunate.”

  Livie didn’t respond, since he didn’t seem to be asking a question, only making an observation. She’d use a stronger word than “unfortunate” to describe what happened to Janet, but then again, Langley was the jerk who’d caused it, so she didn’t expect him to be overflowing with genuine grief.

  “With her situation still a mystery—”

  “It’s not a mystery, Professor Langley. I talk to her son every day.”

  Langley’s mask slipped slightly. “Ah. I didn’t realize. That’s very kind of you, Olivia. I’m sure the family appreciates your concern—”

  “I care about Janet very much.”

  He paused, his eyes taking her in briefly. “I’m sure you do. That being said, we don’t have any indication that she’ll return to work.”

  “Of course she will! She’s awake. It’s only a matter of time.” Which was casting Andy’s updates in the most optimistic light imaginable. While she was technically awake, Janet was still largely unresponsive, not talking or interacting in any way.

  “Yes. Well.” Langley forged ahead. “The point is, we don’t know when she’ll return, and as acting head of the department, I thought we should discuss your dissertation.”

  The change in direction caught her off guard. “My dissertation?”

  “With your advising professor absent for the foreseeable future, we’ll have to give some thought to how you’ll complete your PhD.”

  “I’m going to complete it with Janet. I’ll work without her until she’s back, and then we’ll get on with it.”

  “I understood you were working as her research assistant. How will you do that without her here to perform her research?”

  “Parts of the project are mine to head up.”

  “Such as?”

  “We’re working on a new program to analyze Hubble data. I’m overseeing that project.”

  That gave him pause. Really, what did he think she did all day? Peter Hockman might be nothing more than Langley’s errand boy, but Janet gave Livie serious assignments and expected professional work from her.

  “I see. That’s quite impressive. That said, I still have reservations about allowing you to continue working on your thesis without your advisor present.”

  “But—”

  He held up a hand to silence her. “For the moment, however, since we don’t know how long that will be the case, I’ll let you proceed. But if Professor Finch doesn’t return to work in a reasonable amount of time, we may need to reconsider.”

  “I’m sure that won’t be necessary.” Livie’s heart was pounding and her palms were sweating. Could Langley really yank her off Janet’s research?

  “I’m sure you’re right.” Langley’s falsely sympathetic smile was back. “But we need to keep an eye on your academic and research progress. We’d hate for this unfortunate incident to hinder you earning your PhD, right?”

  Livie dropped her eyes to the carpet, unwilling to look at his fake sad eyes for another second. “Of course not.”

  There was a pause before Langley spoke again, his voice shifting into a new register. “Olivia, you know I’d love to have you working on my research.”

  She lifted her head and gaped at him, not sure she’d understood correctly. “What?”

  He smiled again, but this one wasn’t full of fake sympathy. “You’re a very bright young woman. I’m sure I could make full use of your talents.”

  With a clumsy shove, she pushed her chair back and scrambled to her feet. “That’s very kind of you, Professor Langley, but I’m sure Janet will be back soon and I’ll be hard at work on her research.”

  “I hope so, Olivia. I hope so. For your sake, if for nothing else.”

  She didn’t buy his concern for a second. He was jealous of Janet’s research, of her success, and here he was, looking to torpedo her work the second she wasn’t there to defend it. Well, he’d have to go through Livie first.

  “Is there anything else, Professor?”

  “Not right now. Have a good day, Olivia.”

  She turned and left without another word.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “He said what?” Nick looked up from his laptop.

  “He wants me to move over to his research group.”

  Livie was pacing slowly around the guest room, head down, eyes on the floor—what she did when she was trying to work out a thorny problem. He was on the bed, leaning against the headboard, computer in his lap. They’d been wrestling with the Hubble program but had gotten sidetracked as she told him about her meeting with the new department head.

  “That’s not what you said. You said he could make use of your talents.”

  Livie waved a hand in the air. “What he meant was that I’m a good student and he wants me on his project.”

  This Langley guy sounded like a total asshole, and something about the meeting made Nick’s hackles rise.

  “Are you sure about that? Sounds like the guy was coming on to you.”

  Livie scoffed. “Oh, please. Why on earth would he even think about me that way?”

  Against his will, his eyes roamed down Livie’s body as she paced back and forth in front of him.

  That damned kiss. Since that stupid kiss last week, he found himself noticing all sorts of new things about Livie. Like how small her waist was when he caught a glimpse of it under those old flannel shirts of her father’s, or how long her legs were, and how perfectly curved her ass was, even in those shapeless jeans she wore. He’d been aware that Livie was attractive before, but he hadn’t been aware that he found her attractive. And now that he did, he didn’t have a clue what to do about it.

  “No idea whatsoever,” he muttered to himself.

  “Whatever. For now, Langley’s going to let me move fo
rward on the Hubble project on my own. I’m not going to worry about it.”

  He hesitated before he asked the obvious question, the one Livie didn’t want to face. “What happens if she doesn’t come back?”

  It wasn’t an unreasonable conjecture when you were dealing with a woman Finch’s age, suffering a massive heart attack and then a stroke, too, left with damage so severe she was still hospitalized and largely unresponsive. None of it was good. Every day that passed made it more unlikely that Finch—the Finch Livie knew and loved—was going to make it back from this as she’d been before.

  “She will.”

  “Livie—”

  “She will. And when she does, we’re going to have this code figured out.”

  Okay, Livie didn’t want to deal with the possibility right now. Fine. Maybe that was better. After all, she seemed more than capable of carrying on Finch’s research without her. What better way to care for the woman than by making sure her life’s work continued in her absence?

  And for that to happen, they were going to need to crack the nut on this program. This was turning out to be one of the biggest challenges he’d ever faced. Hacking was easy. Every computer network or security system, no matter how complex, was nothing more than a puzzle, one with boundaries and rules. All you needed to do was figure out those boundaries and rules and eventually, you’d figure out the solution to the puzzle. Here, the puzzle didn’t exist yet. They had to conceive of the puzzle and figure out how to build it, before they could begin to figure out the solution.

  He rubbed his face and attempted to refocus. “Okay, the problem is, we can’t begin to tell Hubble what to look for without giving it some defining characteristics. But we won’t know the defining characteristics until we record them.”

  “Right,” Livie said slowly, still pacing. “It’s like trying to focus on something without looking directly at it. How do you see it when you can’t look at it?”