Page 38 of Boiling Point
“Speaking of which, what do you plan to do with your engineering degree?” I asked, steering us back to safer ground. “Graduate school? Engine design? Flying? Military? Perhaps an astronaut?”
She laughed again, full and bright. “Let’s start with grad school.” Her face dropped for a moment before the light returned. “I’m not qualified for the military, so astronaut is definitely out too.”
“Why are you disqualified from service, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Heart condition.” She tapped her chest. “Mitral valve prolapse.”
“Is everything all right?” I asked, only then catching the edge of worry in my voice.
She waved a hand. “I’m fine. I just have a good relationship with my cardiologist.” She paused, gaze drifting to the jet before snapping back to me. “It doesn’t affect me in any real way—just made both the Navy and the Air Force turn me down.”
I stepped closer, as though proximity might lessen the impact of what she’d said. “The same reason being an astronaut is ruled out?”
She laughed and nodded. “And the fact that I’m perfectly happy on this planet and don’t feel the need to leave it.”Her expression turned wistful. “My dad had the same heart condition, and it kept him out too.”
“Then I admire your tenacity even more.” The words escaped before I could temper them, but they rang true.
She glanced away, a light flush coloring her cheeks as we passed a wall of sepia-toned photographs—aviators mid-laugh or mid-stride, their lives frozen and framed. Gabrielle studied them, perhaps finding echoes of herself in their imagined stories.
“How about you? Why physics?”
I considered the question, momentarily distracted by her nearness. “A lifelong fascination,” I said. “Not merely how things work, but why. I suppose that sounds terribly dull.”
“Not at all,” she said, green eyes keen and curious.
I paused before a display case of radio components, weighing the right words to articulate a passion that had always defied explanation. “In a world where everything is gray and in flux, the pursuit of answers—real answers, without spin—feels practically spiritual.”
She smiled—undeniably mischievous. “You almost make physics sound sexy.”
“Almost?” My pulse quickened as I stepped closer. “You don’t think physics is sexy?”
She laughed, light and unrestrained. “I think you’re doing your best to convince me.”
“Physics is exceedingly sexy,” I insisted, feigning indignation. “The sexiest of the sciences.”
“Not chemistry?” she teased as we passed another row of exhibits. “Or biology?”
“They’re just applied physics,” I said. “And they wish they were as sexy.” I grabbed her hand and tugged her behind a mannequin in full flight gear. “Allow me to make my case more effectively.” She barely had time to gasp before I pulled her close.My mouth was at her ear, my voice low enough to be indecent. “Physics is energy,” I murmured, tracing a finger along her jawline. I pulled her flush against me. “Bodies in motion.”
“Heat?” she breathed.
“Thermodynamics,” I corrected, nipping at her earlobe. Her shiver was immediate and gratifying.
We were scandalously hidden, obscured by aviation memorabilia in a strategic corner of the exhibit. Her back pressed against the cool metal wall as I loomed over her with a barely civilized hunger. She tilted her head back, eyes alight with challenge.
“Wavelength is why your eyes are that stunning shade of green.” I kissed her neck. “Why your cheeks flush pink when I kiss you.”
“Frequency.” She was breathless, her voice soft and teasing. “Is why I can hear your voice.”
I groaned, filled with want and urgency. I placed her palm flat on my chest. “That jolt you feel? That’s your nervous system—pure electricity.” I took her face in my hands and kissed her, slow and heated.
She returned the kiss with a fervor that made my head spin, then pulled back just enough to whisper, “What about acceleration?”
I chuckled as I kissed along her collarbone. “You mean the way we’re moving dangerously fast?”
“Mm-hmm.” She tangled her fingers in my hair.
“That’s velocity,” I said, every neuron firing as she pressed closer.
