Love on the Brain by Ali Hazelwood

            The phone is still ringing. I’m all about ignoring it, but Levi— I realize that Levi is not ignoring it. Levi is making his way under my shorts, sucking on the spot under my ear, and not even hearing it.

            “Levi.” He doesn’t quite snap out of it. He doesn’t pull back, doesn’t move his mouth from my skin, but he stops. His grip tightens around me. A child, reluctant to let go of a favorite toy. “Your phone. Do you want to . . . ?”

            His eyes are glassy. His hands not fully steady as he lets go of me, gingerly, with difficulty. I watch him try to collect himself for long seconds before he picks up. “Ward.”

            He is winded, chest moving up and down. He palms his erection like it hurts, all the while staring at me, me, only me. Then he looks away and his demeanor abruptly changes. “Say that again?” The speaker on the other end is female. I can’t make out the words, but I recognize the voice from before. From the picture in his office. “Yeah, of course,” Levi says reassuringly. His voice is still husky, but soft. Caring. Intimate. He turns around and gives me his back, like I’m not here anymore. They used to date, a nagging voice provides. What you just did with Levi? He used to do it with her. And much more.

            “I’ll be right there.”

            Reality’s catching up fast. I just—I did that. I haven’t been this close to another human being in years, and now—with Levi. I liked it, too. I forgot myself and probably all decency, but maybe he didn’t? He’s leaving in the middle of it. Because of a phone call. From a friend. Whom he used to date. Shit. Shit—

            “Bee?” I look up. His eyes are ablaze. His jeans tented. Okay—he is that big. “I need to go.” His throat bobs before and after he says it. He doesn’t seem fully in control. Could I convince him to stay, if I tried?

            Probably not. I won’t, anyway. “Of course.”

            “I would . . .”

            “It’s okay.”

            “I will . . .”

            “Yeah, you can . . .”

            “Yes.”

            I’ve no clue what he’s trying to say, and I seriously doubt he knows what I mean, since I have no idea myself. We’re talking over each other. Just like we were all over each other. Ba Dum Tss.

            One last glance and he leaves. He’s halfway down the stairs when I notice the car keys on the table, on top of the diagram I drew. I grab them and run after him. “Hey, you forgot your keys!”

            He stops on the landing and holds out his hand, so I go to him and drop them into his palm. I expect him to leave right after, but he surprises me by stepping closer. Then closer still.

            For long moments he just looks at me, eyes full of beautiful, undecipherable green things. My throat constricts, my stomach twists, and I want to tell him that I’m sorry, that it’s okay, that I know he made a mistake, that we never need to talk about this, never again. But before I can say anything, he cups my cheek and leans down to kiss me once more.

            This time it’s sweet, slow, savoring. Patient. This time it’s lingering and gentle—everything our other kiss wasn’t.

            I want to try them all. All the kisses Levi Ward is capable of, I want to sample them like fine wine.

            I touch my lips, feel his residual warmth, and don’t take my eyes off his back as he disappears.





17





PULVINAR: REACHING & GRASPING



From: [email protected]

                To: BLINK-CORE-ENGINEERING@MAILSERV, [email protected]

                Re: BLINK—Monday


I’ll be taking personal time and I won’t be in at all today (Monday). I uploaded three designs for you to work on. Bee came up with a great solution to the hardware/software incompatibility issues, and I want to finalize its implementation ASAP. Reach me via text if you have questions.


LW



            I read the email for the seventh time, and for the seventh time I marvel that I was given credit for my idea. Goes to show how low the bar is for cis dudes in STEM, doesn’t it? Thank you, Oh Penised Overlords, for the recognition I deserve.

            Not that I’m not grateful he introduced the idea, since I’m not sure his underlings would have taken it seriously if it came from me. Remember June 1903, when the Royal Institution invited Dr. Curie to give a lecture and then didn’t allow her to lecture because of her inferior lady brain? Pierre ended up speaking for her, even though she was sitting in the audience.