Page 50 of At First Flight
“I mean, yeah. It’s the older part of the building, but the incubator is on a backup generator.”
“Lila, you can’t work like this,” he barks.
With a sarcastic guffaw, I reply, “I don’t have many options. And really, it’s fine. Nothing you can do about it.”
“Is that what you think?” He relaxes as he straightens. “You just say the word, sweetheart, and I could have a state-of-the-art facility built here in town by the end of the month.”
“That’s impossible.” I shake my head to rid the thought of having a research facility all to myself. A place where no one would question my theories or patents. A place to make a difference.
“It’s really not. It would please me a great deal to build this for you.”
The temptation is robust, almost as much as the temptation to climb Dean like my own personal playground.
“No, Dean. I don’t want you to spend your money on me. Plus, we’d have to follow a bunch of rules and regulations. Not even you can jump through the loopholes.”
Reaching out, he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear that has escaped from the messy twist I put my hair up in. When our skin touches, that recently awoken garden of butterflies in my stomach takes flight. “Lila, I think you’d be very surprised to find out what I’d do for you.”
All I want him to do right now is kiss me. I bet he tastes like mint from his toothpaste and something sweet like a dark chocolate. Dean looks at me almost expectantly, knowing the pull he has. The words settle on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t seem to force them out.
“I, um… had a visitor today,” I say, my fingers skimming the rim of the lab table. I try to sound nonchalant, but I can feel Dean’s gaze flick over to me.
“Yeah?” he asks, tone easy. But when I look up, his eyes are already locked on mine.
I shrug like it’s no big deal. “Someone from the school district. An administrator.” I try to keep my tone light, but the words feel heavier than I expected.
Dean leans his hip against the table, brow raised. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, fine. She just… offered me something. A part-time position.” I pause, letting it sit between us for a second. “Science curriculum coordinator. For the entire district.”
His expression doesn’t change much, but I swear something flashes behind his eyes. Surprise? Concern? I’m not sure. I’m probably imagining it.
I keep going before I lose the nerve. “It caught me off guard. I didn’t even know that was something I could do. I’ve always pictured myself in a lab or a research facility. Somewheresterile and important. But today…” I shake my head, fingers tightening around the glass.
“What changed?” he asks quietly, voice pitched lower now, like he knows this is more than just a job conversation.
I glance toward the grimy window where the glass lost its brilliance decades before. My throat tightens. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just starting to realize that impact isn’t always about publications or breakthroughs. Maybe it’s about who’s watching you. Who’s learning from you. Maybe it’s smaller… and somehow more important.”
Dean doesn’t move, but his gaze softens. “Sounds like she saw something in you.”
“Maybe.” I laugh, soft and unsure. “Or maybe she was just desperate. Maybe the old coordinator retired, and no one’s filled the role since.”
“I doubt that,” he murmurs, his mouth twitching at the corners.
I chance a look at him, heart picking up speed. The way he’s watching me—calm, steady, and a little too intense—makes my skin prickle in the best way.
Instead of wondering what staying here could mean, I say, “I’m almost done for today,” and turn my head back to my laptop.
“That’s fine. I’ll wait.”
“What for?” I ask, trying to ignore the screeching stool as he plants it beside mine.
“I want to take you to dinner, and I was hoping maybe you could show me some of your favorite places in town.”
“Dinner? Just you and me? That’s like a…”
“A date, yes.”
“You want to take me on a date? I thought you just wanted to sleep with me,” I say, embarrassment kissing my cheeks as the words fly from my lips before I can catch them.
