Imperfect Chemistry (16 page)

The heart has its reasons of which reason knows nothing.

–Blaise Pascal

“I am so sorry,” Jensen says, for the fourth time since we left his parent’s house.

“It’s not your fault.” We’re almost back to the duplex. After our hasty departure, Jensen was silent for approximately five minutes before he began the effusive apologies.

“I brought you into the lion’s den,” he says. “I knew they would be difficult, they always are, but I didn’t think they would be that crazy.” He laughs. “If anything, I thought they would behave more if you were there as a buffer.”

“You can’t control other people’s behavior. You can only control your own.”

“I shouldn’t have even told them we were—” He stops speaking suddenly and waves his hand, “Hanging out,” he says finally.

He turns down the alley and into the parking spot, leaving the car on so the soft filter of music is still trickling through the air. Neither of us moves to leave the car right away.

“I hope I’m not distracting you from your studies,” I say. “If you need assistance or if you want me to help in some way?”

“No. It’s fine.” He smiles at me. “What are you doing later?” he asks.

I pause at the sudden shift in conversation. “Freya is back, and she invited me over for dinner,” I say.  “I would ask you to come, but I’m not sure what the proper etiquette would be in this situation since it’s at her house.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says. There’s a pause and then he says, “Will you come over after?”

“Yes,” I respond quickly. “I’m not sure how late it will be.”

“That’s okay.” He shuts the car off then, and pulls the keys from the ignition. After fumbling with the ring for a moment, he hands a key to me. “Just let yourself in if I’m sleeping.”

“Okay.”

He gets out of the car then, and so do I, slipping the key in my front pocket.

We walk up the steps to the front porch in silence.

“Thank you for inviting me to brunch,” I say, turning towards him.

When I look up, he’s watching me with dark, serious eyes.

He reaches a hand out and cups my jawline. His thumb moves back and forth across my cheek. We don’t do more than stare at each other for a few long moments. Then his hand exerts a gentle pressure, pulling me towards him. When our lips meet, it happens again. I try to maintain my composure, but something about the feel of his lips moving softly against mine and the smell of his cologne makes my normally active brain turn into a whirl of nothing but sensation and instinct. I slide my hands under his jacket and around his back, pulling our bodies together so we are touching from our chests down.

He pulls away and gazes down at me, his hands still on my face. “I should go,” he says.

“Okay,” I say.

Then he tugs me back towards him and this time the kiss isn’t gentle at all. When we separate again we’re both breathing heavily.

“This time, I really mean it,” he says.

“Right,” I say, leaning into him and pulling his head down towards me.

After a few moments, he removes his hands from me and takes a large step away. “Okay,” he says. “I’ll see you later.”

I nod and turn away to head to my side of the duplex, but he grabs my arm and reels me in one last time. His kiss is hard and swift and then it’s over and he’s slipping back into his place.

It takes me a second to recover, and when I finally get behind my door I have to lean back against it to catch my breath.

***

I arrive at Freya’s right at six o’clock, the time she told me to arrive.

She opens the door and
reels me in for a big hug before pulling back and examining me from head to toe and then back to my face again.

“You look different,” she says.

“I do?”                           

“Come in and tell us about your holiday!” She yanks me into the living room.

Ted and Bethany are already there, sitting on the couches and drinking wine. There’s food on the coffee table: quiches, fruit, crackers and cheese. Her apartment is decorated with vintage items. The furniture is brightly colored orange and yellow hues, and she has a chair embroidered with floppy flowers. White fairy lights twinkle as they wrap around the room at the top of the walls.

“My darling genius girl!” Ted stands up and kisses me on the cheek.

Bethany stands too and gives me a hug. “You look different,” she says.

I glance over at Freya. “Why are you both saying that?” I ask.

“Oh, yeah,” Ted says, taking his seat back on the couch. “You’ve got this whole glowy thing going on.” He nods solemnly and waves around his face with his hand.

“I do?”

“Yes!” Freya says.

We all sit down. Bethany and Ted plop on the couch, I sit on the flowery chair.

Freya sits on the floor and grabs a quiche to stuff in her mouth. “You had sex, didn’t you!” she accuses around a mouthful of food.

“No,” I say. “And not for lack of trying.”

“OMG, I knew it!” Ted says. “You want to bone Jensen down, don’t you?”

“I’m not sure what that means,” I say. “But we have spent a lot of time together this week.”

“You have to tell us everything!” Bethany says.

I tell them nearly everything, though I skip some of the more personal details and completely leave out the part about Jensen’s artwork and the whole virgin thing. I get the feeling he doesn’t share that last bit often. Or ever.

“Let me get this straight,” Ted says, his face a picture of disbelief. “You’ve slept in the same bed nearly every night for almost a week?”

“Yes.”

“And nothing happened?”

“Yes.”

He claps his hands and his eyes turn gleeful. “Maybe he is gay!”

“No. He’s not,” I say assuredly.

“Well, are you guys together?” Bethany asks.

That makes me pause. “I don’t know.”

“Have you had
the talk
?” Freya asks.

“What’s that?”

They exchange knowing looks.

Freya answers. “The talk about being exclusive. The one I never had with Cameron and then he ended up in bed with Liz the slut.” She offers me a pointed look.

“No,” I answer. “We haven’t had that talk. But that’s okay. I’m enjoying our time together.”

“But you’re not having sex?” Ted still appears confused.

“No.”

“
Hmph.” He sips his wine.

“Tell me about your Thanksgivings,” I say, in an effort to change the subject.

Freya talks about a former boyfriend she ran into in her hometown, Bethany complains about her grandmother’s arbitrary and frequent use of moth balls, and Ted goes on and on about how his family played football and went off-roading.

Freya serves salad and lasagna and we eat in the living room. After dinner, there’s more talking and laughing and then I’m ready to go home. Or to Jensen’s home, rather.

“Thank you for having me over,” I tell Freya as I’m leaving.

“No problem,” she says, giving me a hug. “We’ll get together for lunch this week?”

“Sure.”

By the time I get to Jensen’s it’s after ten and all of the lights are off on his side of the duplex. I sneak in quietly using the key he gave me, leaving it next to the
wabi-sabi dish in the living room before brushing my teeth with the toothbrush I’ve left there and crawling into bed with him.

He snuffles in his sleep, making me smile. I try and relax on my side of the soft bed, but for some reason I can’t. After a minute of tossing and turning, Jensen shifts towards me and yanks me against him, one of his arms over my midsection and a heavy leg over mine. Once I’m pressed against him, feeling his
body warmth seep into my back, it’s easier to relax and before I know it I fall asleep.

***

The next day is Monday. Jensen has classes all day, and I spend the day staring blankly at my computer screen, still unable to reach the idea from the recesses of my mind for a viable experiment. Since sitting around doesn’t seem to be effective, I decide to take a walk, hoping the increased blood flow and moving through the chilled air will shake something loose in my mind.

I’m heading home, still no closer to an idea, when my phone rings.

“Hey!” Freya yells into my ear. “What are you doing?” Her voice is a little anxious.

“Walking home from the lab. You?”

It sounds like she’s outside. “I’m just now leaving the law library. Had a study group. Listen, I have to talk to you, can you meet me now?”

“I’m almost home and you’re on the other side of campus. Are you okay? Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” she says quickly. “It’s just…ah…dammit.” She pauses and huffs out a breath. “I didn’t want to tell you this on the phone, but I saw Jensen with another girl,” she says the last four words quickly, like ripping off a Band-Aid.

I stop walking and watch my breath come out in puffs in front of my face for a second. “So?” I ask. “He’s allowed to hang out with people other than me, Freya. I don’t expect him not to have other girls in his life who are friends. In fact, I’ve met some of his friends that are girls.”

“It’s not like that,” she says. “I saw him hugging a girl. And they were pressed pretty close together and it seemed a bit more than friendly.” She sighs. “I just had to tell you. I know you and Jensen haven’t talked about being exclusive and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I won’t,” I say.

“How do you know?”

“What did she look like?” I ask.

“Blonde, legs up to here, basically your perfect bitch.”

That sounds like Candice.

“That sounds like a girl I know he’s friends with,” I say.

“Okay, th
at’s not all I have to tell you.” Her voice is pained.  “They walked off together and I sort of followed them.”

“Freya!”

“I know, I know, but I couldn’t help it. And…they went back to his place.”

I’m not surprised. Jensen texted earlier and he had mentioned working on Candice’s piece in between classes. I am surprised Freya took the time to follow him on my behalf. It’s actually sort of sweet, in a terribly misplaced way.

Freya is still speaking. “I don’t know how long they were in there together,” she says. “I had to go because mob boss guy caught me hiding in the bushes, but it was longer than twenty minutes for sure.”

“Does mob boss guy have an actual name?”

“Yeah. I think it’s like, Dean, or something. He has this awful habit of catching me at my worst. My ass was literally sticking up and out of this bush when he came up behind me. At first, all I saw was his feet, then when I tried to back out, my hair got caught on a branch. He had to help me get untangled, and by the time that was finished, I had to run to get to my criminal law class.”

“I think he likes you,” I say. Why else would he stop and help her?

“What? No. He definitely does not like me. He’s perpetually grumpy in my presence and he thinks I’m a dumbass.”

“How do you know what he thinks?”

“You should have seen the look on his face when I told him I had criminal law! He was all, ‘Isn’t that a little advanced for you?’ I almost decked him and then…wait! You’re trying to change the subject and deflect attention from Jensen, but it won’t work with me, missy.”

“Freya,” I say. “It’s okay. They didn’t do anything.”

“How do you know?”

“I can’t tell you. I just do.”

“Listen, Lucy, no one disputes that you’re a genius, but when it comes to stuff like this, you have to trust me. This guy is no good. And yeah, I mean, he’s really hot and everything, but he’s obviously damaged from what happened with Chloe and he’s using this time to take advantage of you and who knows how many other girls.”

“Freya, I know they didn’t do anything.”

“How can you possibly know that? You weren’t there.” She lets out an angry groan. “I can’t believe that guy, acting all sweet and shit and the whole time he’s totally playing you. Well, he’s going to pay, believe you me.”

“Freya, no,” I say. I know exactly what she’s thinking. “You cannot hire your mob boss guy to beat up Jensen, I won’t let you.”

“You can’t stop me! Maybe I can get him to make a recorded confession, that way you’ll believe me.”

“Freya!” I sigh. I’m standing on the sidewalk alone
. The campus is empty this late at night. I have visions of Jensen strapped to a chair and being coerced into a fake confession. “You know, a confession received under duress isn’t admissible in court.”