Page 36 of The Spark Between Us

I nodded, ashamed that I couldn’t do something as simple as drive a car. “I can calculate the annihilation rate of slow positrons, but I can’t take a road trip without running into a bus. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

He nodded in sudden understanding. “That’s why you couldn’t commute here from Berkeley.”

“Not without a driverless car.” I lowered my gaze to the floor. He might as well know everything.

“I wondered about that. Finn didn’t say.”

“Well, now you know. And even if I don’t get my license suspended, my insurance rates will pound me, so I’m really going to need this bike ...” I started to pull away, but his light touch on my skin made it impossible.

“Hey.” He moved his hand from my chin to my cheek. A sweet gesture, but I knew it didn’t have the same meaning for him—he was a professional lifesaver, after all. He knew how to comfort people going through trauma. “There’s nothing wrong with you. So you’re a distracted driver. In this day and age, join the club. At least you weren’t texting.”

“Because I don’t have a death wish.”

He smiled at that. Then I noticed the dawning of recognition on his face, and he checked the time. I’d waylaid him. “You have plans. I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t worry. I can push them back.”

“No, no, don’t. I’ll feel even worse. Please. Go enjoy your date, and I’ll ride back to your house and learn my way around.” I did my best to smile convincingly.

He hesitated, lines creasing his brow.

“Relax. I’m not going to call up Finn and say you abandoned me,” I said.

He looked again at the time. “I’m happy to help you pick out a bike if you want to come back tomorrow. I just...”

“No, no. I’m good.”

After another moment of indecision, he nodded. I watched his easy saunter to the door, imagining an alternate universe where he’d turn around and tell me he’d rather cancel his date to hang with me. The shop’s bell jingled as he pushed it open. “Okay, just...text me that you made it back to my house, okay?”

I gave him a thumbs up and moved into the depths of the store, ready to find a two-wheeler that spoke to me. It didn’t take long. I settled on a one-speed cruiser with a rack on the back, onto which I attached a square basket.

I calculated that the ride from Braden’s house to the lab was about five flat miles. If I caught all the lights, I could make it to work in under a half hour and probably wouldn’t be so sweaty that I’d need to change clothes. My new yellow bike, with its bell and brown leather seat, fit the bill perfectly.

After paying, I dropped my purse into the basket and rode to a grocery store for some dinner things. And maybe wine.

I’d been exhausted most nights after work, but my new purchase energized me. Tonight I’d have the place to myself. Time to have some fun in the kitchen while the hot roommate painted the town fire engine red.

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