The Soulmate Equation by Christina Lauren

EIGHTEEN

POPS, WOULD YOU get out of here for just a little while?”

He ignored her. “What’s a thirteen-letter word for ‘old’?”

“I’d say Ronald Davis,” Jess said, “but that’s only eleven.”

Nana chuckled from the bed, where she was drowsily half watching TV on mute.

“Well?” he prompted, tired and irritable.

Jess shook her head. “Nope.”

“What do you mean, ‘nope’?” he gruffed.

“I’m not helping you,” she told him. “You stink and you’re falling asleep in your chair.”

“She’s right,” Nana murmured.

He stared at Nana Jo, then at Jess, and then blinked down, forlorn, at the puzzle. “Octogenarian?” He counted on his fingers, and grunted in annoyance. “Septuagenarian?” Victorious, he moved to write it in.

“That’s fourteen letters,” Jess said. “You’re forgetting the U in there, aren’t you?”

Irked, Pops dropped the crossword onto the table in defeat.

“Go home for a bit,” Nana said sleepily. “I don’t need you watching me all day.”

“Well, it’s not my fault I can’t take my eyes off you. You’re just too pretty.”

Nana Jo rolled her eyes, but his words made her glow like a Christmas tree.

“Fine, I’ll go home and shower and sleep.” He stood, stretching. Something cracked in his back and he let out a tight moan before kissing Nana on the forehead. He looked over his shoulder at Jess. “You won’t leave her?” Jess forgave him the accusatory tone; he was exhausted.

It was on the tip of her tongue to joke that she promised to only leave if she got bored or hungry, or if a hot male nurse wanted to sneak into a supply closet, but now was not the time. “I won’t leave her.” Quietly, she added, “Superannuated.”

Letting out a quiet “Dammit, I should have known that one,” he walked back over and scribbled the word into the puzzle.

POPS RETURNED AROUNDthree, looking significantly cleaner and marginally better rested. He arrived only a handful of minutes before the physical therapist came to get Nana up and out of bed for the first time, and Jess was glad because it took all three of them to talk the normally fearless woman through the panic of putting weight on her leg.

Jess didn’t have time to reel in the emotional hit of seeing Nana so frail and scared; it took an hour to get her up and taking the ten assisted steps to the door, where a wheelchair took her to the PT room, and another hour there, working on strength and balance.

By the time Nana Jo was back in bed for the night it was just after five, and although Jess had been sitting for most of the day, she was so mentally drained that she just wanted to curl up in her bed—hell, she’d happily find a spot on the linoleum floor. But more than that, she wanted some time with Juno while her daughter was awake. And food. She hadn’t eaten since she’d picked at a dry bran muffin around ten that morning, and her stomach gnarled in annoyance.

Texting Fizzy that she’d have some dinner delivered, Jess climbed into her car, called an order in to Rama, and turned on the mellow rumble of the National. Music filled the car, and it was an intoxicating hit of calm.

You said love fills you up …

I got it worse than anyone else

Her shoulders tensed, and she turned the music off.

In the silence, her thoughts immediately flooded with River. The paradoxical brew of hospital tedium and chaos had held everything back, but in the dark solitude of her own car, emotion poured over her.

I thought it was obvious.

I want to hear you recite the odds that we would have met.

“‘I want you in my bed,’” she repeated aloud.

Jess pulled into her parking spot in the alley, listened to the engine tick in the silence. She could smell duck curry all the way down the path and sent a silent thanks to Rama.

Inside, Juno and Fizzy were at the table, feasting and playing cards. They were wearing handmade paper hats and Fizzy had put … a lot of makeup on Juno.

“We’re filming makeup tutorials for my mom,” Fizzy said, standing to walk over and give Jess a hug.

Jess stifled a laugh at her daughter’s exaggerated lips. “I see.”

With an irrepressible urge to deflate in fatigue, Jess considered simply lowering her body to the floor. But she wanted her arms around her kid so bad they ached. At the table, Jess lifted Juno up and set her on her lap while her daughter finished eating, pressing her face to the small stretch between the delicate shoulder blades. “I missed you, Bug.”

“I haven’t been gone, silly!” Juno bent in her grip, maneuvering a bite into her mouth.

Once they’d stuffed themselves to the point of discomfort, Juno settled on the couch to watch The Lion King, and Fizzy and Jess lingered in the kitchen with glasses of wine.

“I don’t like when you’re out of town,” Jess said through a yawn. “I blame you for yesterday.”

“Seems reasonable.” Fizzy swallowed a sip and bit her lip, studying Jess with narrowed eyes. “Juno says River Nicolas picked her up and took her to ballet?”

Jess waved a hand, unprepared to talk about it yet. “How are things with you and Banker Rob?”

“Hot and fantastic.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Will he be coming to your place later?”

Fizzy shook her head, waving her glass with a delicately bent wrist. “He’s out of town, remember? Which means you won’t get to avoid the River conversation.” Her best friend sat at the table and patted the seat next to her.

“Oh. Right.” Jess sat, but immediately crumpled, resting her head on her arms. “I’m too tired, Fizz.”

“Tell me what’s going on. You look …” She leaned in, lifting Jess’s hair to peek at her face. “This looks like more than just worry about Jo.”

Straightening, Jess quietly unloaded it all, parcel by parcel. She admitted she was starting to feel for River—feelings too big to ponder when it seemed like everything else in her life was pounding at the door to be dealt with. She admitted she didn’t know whether River’s intentions were completely trustworthy, even though he swore they were. She told Fizzy about the cocktail party, about honest-to-God one of the most intense make-outs the parking lot of Scripps Mercy had ever seen. She told Fizzy about how she couldn’t stop thinking about him. She told Fizzy every detail she could think to tell, like she was purging her sins.

“He said that?” Fizzy whispered, wary of the small but excellent ears in the other room. “He actually said the words ‘I want you in my bed’? Just like that?”

Jess nodded.

“With eye contact?”

“Steady, ardent, I’m-going-to-fuck-you-until-you-find-religion eye contact,” Jess confirmed.

Fizzy groaned, reaching for her purse, pulling her notebook out, and writing it down.

Jess bent over her arms again, exhaling an enormous sigh. “I just need some time to figure this all out. It’s happening so fast.”

Fizzy dropped her pen, scoffing at this. “Come on. No, you don’t.”

Surprised, Jess looked up at her. “What do you mean I don’t?”

“You’ve known him for weeks now. You’re telling me he told you he wanted to take you to dinner and hear you be nerdy. He wants to be there for you without you feeling guilty. He admitted he wants you in his bed—this poor boy is sprung, Jess, and you’re going to—what? Shove it aside?”

Jess stared at her, uncomprehending.

“You’re looking for a way out of feeling anything,” Fizzy said, “but you’re clearly bonkers for this guy.”

“I’m not sure ‘bonkers’—”

“You’re scared, and it’s cliché.”

She exhaled a shocked laugh. “Wow, give it to me straight, Felicity.”

“You think having feelings for River is selfish.”

“I mean, this situation does actually take me away from both work and Juno,” she said. “I’ve barely seen her the past two days.”

“So?” Fizzy challenged.

“What … ? I—” Jess grew flustered. “She’s my kid. I want to see her.”

“Of course you do,” Fizzy said, “but she’s Jo’s and Pops’s and mine, too. She and I had a blast tonight, and I wish I could see her more. But you act like asking for help is selfish, you see wanting something just for yourself as selfish, you see taking any time away from your kid as selfish, and if you’re selfish, then you must be turning into your mother.”

Hearing it aloud was like being punched.

“But you’re not your mom, Jess.” Fizzy took her hand, lifting it to her mouth to kiss it. “There isn’t even a drop of Jamie Davis in you.”

Jess’s voice broke. “I know.”

“And if you could do anything tonight when Juno goes to bed, what would it be?”

She expected the word Sleep to drop out of her mouth. But instead: “I’d go to his place.”

Fizzy’s dark eyes flashed with smug victory. “Then go. I’ll stay here with the kid as long as you need me to.”

“Fizz, you don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t.” She kissed Jess’s hand again. “That’s the whole point. You do things for me because you love me. I do things for you because I love you. Duh.”

Jess scrounged around for the last remaining excuse. Luckily, it was a good one: “I don’t know where he lives.”

“Well, you could text him. Or …” Fizzy reached across the table for a piece of paper and handed it to her. On it, in small, cramped handwriting, was the name River Nicolas Peña and an address in North Park.

“Wait,” Jess said, laughing incredulously, “how did this end up on my table?”

“I asked the same thing when I found it in Juno’s backpack,” Fizzy said with mock bewilderment. “And Juno explained that she wanted to mail him some drawings of Pigeon. How kind of him to give this to her.”

RIVER OPENED THE door and his mouth went slack.

“Jess.” He reached for her shoulder, concerned. “What are you—? Are you okay?”

All at once, she had no idea what to say. He was standing in front of her in lounge pants that hung low on his hips and a threadbare Stanford T-shirt. He was barefoot and freshly showered. His hair was wet and finger-brushed back off his face; his lips were smooth and perfect. Unraveled and bare, Jess knew in her bones that he was her ninety-eight.

“I wanted to see you.”

Realization altered his expression, and his eyes darted behind her and then quickly back. He licked his lips. “Is Ju—”

“Fizzy.”

He stared, breaths coming out in shorter and shorter gusts. Maybe three seconds later, Jess didn’t know who was moving first, whether he pulled her inside or she stepped in out of the cool, humid night, but she was in his entryway only a moment before the door slammed and she was pushed back against it. River braced his hands beside her head, staring with wild disbelief. And then he bent, pressing a groaning kiss to her mouth.

The feel of it, the perfect pressure and angle, transformed her longing into a staggering hunger. Jess’s hands shook as they made fists in the soft fabric of his shirt, and when he tasted her—lips parted, tongue teasing—she was hit with a desire so intense it felt like taking a breath too big to hold. She had to pull away, gasping for air.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” he growled, scraping his teeth down her jaw, sucking, biting at her neck. “Did you come here for this?”

Jess nodded, and greedy hands bunched her sweater as they moved up her torso, seeking skin. The loss of contact while he pulled away to yank it up and over her head was torture, and Jess jerked him back, wedging her hands between them to get his T-shirt off as quickly as her frantic fingers would let her. Beneath her touch he was hard and smooth, candy for her feverish hands.

Jess laughed an apology into his mouth as she managed to get his elbow briefly tangled in one of his sleeves. “It’s okay,” he breathed, tossing the shirt away. His eyes met hers for an electric beat before his hair fell forward and he bent to kiss her.

While his mouth moved down her jaw and neck, over her shoulder and along the sensitive inside of her wrist, she watched her fingers memorize each perfect inch of his torso. River’s shoulders were broad but not massive, defined but not bulky. His chest, too, and lower, where his stomach clenched under her touch. Jess wanted to dig in, bite, consume. And when her nails scratched up his back, over the curves of his shoulders, tracing his perfect collarbones, his breath caught in his throat.

With his gaze on her face, River reached back, releasing the clasp of her bra. His hands were rough and warm, and Jess wanted to catch every tiny shift in his expression, every reaction to the feel of her. The way he looked at her—the sweet devastation pinching his brow—made Jess feel like she’d been plugged directly into the sun. Urging him back, she fell to her knees, drugged and nearly delirious with need.

He let out a whispered “Oh, God” as she worked his pants and boxers down; River turned her into Medusa with his fingers in her hair, and with a voice that had grown hoarse, he quietly begged for more than the heat of her breath. She looked up, and when their eyes met, hunger speared painfully through her. Jess hadn’t ever felt this desired or this powerful. Having never craved anything in excess like this before, she wanted to pull him into every bit of her body at once, wanted to break off pieces too big to consume.

River’s voice went from whispered pleas into broken, growling warnings, and with a cry, he pulled his hips away, wrapping a hand around her arm and guiding her to her feet. Jerking her close, he tucked her head beneath his chin while he caught his breath. With the pause in the frenzy, Jess grew aware of how fast her own breaths were coming, how it felt like their hearts were hammering on opposite sides of the same door.

I want to never get used to this, she thought, holding him. If tonight is about being selfish, then here’s my selfish wish: I hope we never get used to this.

He pulled away, sending his hands over her body—hungrily touching chest, and ribs, and the curved small of her back—and Jess closed her eyes, tilting her head as his mouth slid up her throat. Teasing, his fingers toyed with the button on her jeans.

“Can I take these off?”

At her nod, River worked the button loose, smiling and kicking his own clothing free as he peeled hers down her legs. Leaning away, he grabbed and threw something to the floor, and when he carefully lowered her down, Jess realized he’d pulled a plush blanket from the couch.

Her back met the blanket, and his hips slid between her thighs. She got one gentle kiss before the heat of his mouth moved down her neck, sucking and kissing at her breasts, fingers digging into hips and navel and then gently feeling, stroking, before his kiss was there, too. The relief of it was like being uncapped and poured across his floor, and her fingers made fists in his hair as Jess closed her eyes against the overload of sensation.

She felt blindly for the purse she must have dropped as soon as her back hit the door, and fumbled through the fog of lust, pulling the square of foil free.

River heard the tear, lifting his head and dragging his mouth up her body. He tasted like her, but sounded like a man on the verge of breaking when she gripped him, rolling on the condom.

But he went still over her, and she paused, too, moving her hands to rest them on his hips. “Too fast?”

He shook his head and smiled down at her. “Just making sure.”

Jess reached up to push the hair out of his eyes and nodded, unable to get the words out.

“Say it,” he said, bending to kiss her. “I’m sure. Are you?”

She couldn’t spread her hands out wide enough; even with his body aligned all along hers, she needed to get closer. “I want to,” she said. “Please.”

River dropped his forehead to her temple, letting her be the one to take him in. They both went still for a breathless pause, and in that time Jess existed only on the razor-sharp edge of bliss and discomfort. Carefully, holding still, he kissed her—so sweet and searching—and she could finally exhale.

“You okay?” River kissed her mouth again, and Jess felt him pull back and take in her expression. “We can stop.”

Was he serious? They absolutely could not. Her drama-queen body was certain they’d die if they tried.

“No. Don’t go.”

“Okay.” His lips dragged across her jaw and she could feel his smile. “I won’t.”

He kissed her again, pulling away with a gentle bite. When he whispered through a laugh, “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m shaking,” and she felt the truth of it under her hands, she could exhale some more because it made her think maybe she wasn’t alone in this feeling—so desperate for him that she might cry.

River moved over her—slow, then building in tempo, pressing into her again and again, releasing a quiet grunt with every forward pitch and—

—and suddenly she felt the weight rolling down her spine like a steel boulder in a trap ready to spring.

Jess got only one word out—“I’m”—before it hit her like an explosion, the inside-out splitting of heat and relief spreading through her entire body. She was still too tangled up to appreciate River’s abandon, but it imprinted in the back of her mind how he groaned her name against her neck, going tightly still over her.

After a pause filled only with the sounds of their short, stuttering breaths, River pushed up on his arms and stared down at her. His hair was a mess of dark curls falling into his eyes, but Jess had the weird sense of looking into a mirror anyway; his gaze was brimming with the same shock and amazement she felt vibrating in her blood. It hit her in a sharp, startling truth: her whole life she had been put together wrong in one tiny, invisible, and critical way. And having that piece altered just enough for it to slide into place suddenly changed everything.

“Can you stay?” he asked, catching his breath. “Stay here tonight?”

Her heart pinched painfully and Jess ran a hand down his sweaty chest, over his stomach. “I don’t think so.”

Nodding, he pulled back with a wince, and she immediately ached for him. River sat back on his heels and ran a warm palm along her leg, from hip to knee.

She marveled at this man who, a month ago, she’d known only as “Americano,” as surly and quiet and selfish. This shy, brilliant man kneeling in front of her who showed up without having to be asked, who put the ball in her court, who asked her if she was sure and told her they could stop. She felt her control slipping out of her grip, and the two syllables of his name tattooed a permanent echo inside her.

River’s shoulders rose and fell with his still-labored breathing, and he closed his eyes, sliding his hands up over her hips again, across her navel. “I don’t have to say it, do I?”

“Maybe not,” Jess said, gazing up at him. “I still want you to.”

Somehow she’d known exactly what he would look like without a stitch of clothing on, but she took a leisurely visual perusal anyway.

“That was unreal, wasn’t it?” he finally said. “I don’t feel like the same person I was an hour ago.”

“I was just thinking the exact same thing.”

He laughed quietly. “I can’t believe we did it on the floor. In all the times I imagined it, I did not imagine the floor.”

“I probably wouldn’t have let you get much farther than the entryway.”

“I like a woman on a mission.”

With hungry, curious eyes, Jess watched him stand and stride unselfconsciously naked across the foyer to his sleek, austere kitchen. She hadn’t even taken a moment to look around his place, but it was exactly what she expected: open floor plan, clean lines, simple furniture, understated wall decor. There were, for example, no crayon drawings of hippos taped to his refrigerator or unpaired socks strewn on the floor.

He returned a moment later, coming over her like a shadowed, predatory animal. “I’m going to think about this constantly now.”

Jess laughed, admitting, “I already do.”

“Like when?” he whispered.

She rolled her eyes away, thinking. “Um. Shelter Island—”

“Same.”

Her eyes met his again. “And the kiss at the party—”

“Of course.”

“The parking lot at the hospital.”

“I almost asked to follow you home.”

She reached up, sliding her thumb over his bottom lip. “I’m glad you didn’t. I would have said yes, but I wasn’t ready yesterday.”

He opened his mouth, gently biting the tip of her finger. “I know. I hope you were tonight.”

She nodded, mesmerized by the sight of his teeth around her finger. “I was. It lived up to the mental hype. It exceeded the mental hype.”

“I wanted you before Shelter Island,” he said quietly.

Jess pulled back a little, surprised. “When?”

“The night we found out about the match, when we were outside. I wondered what it would feel like to kiss you.” He bent, giving her a tiny peck. “And at dinner, with Dave and Brandon.” He kissed her again. “In the lab when I took your blood. Our first date. Pretty much every time I thought about you.”

“Do you think it’s because the number told you to want me?”

He shook his head. “I believe in the algorithm, but not that much. I fought it. Just like you did.”

Jess stared up at him, running her palm up his chest. A faint echo of discomfort registered in her back, and he must have felt her wince because he pushed up, reaching for and helping her stand.

River bent, pulling on his boxers before draping the throw blanket around her shoulders. Taking her hand, he led them to the couch, gesturing for her to sit first, but Jess stepped forward, gently pushing him until he sat, and then placed a knee on either side of his hips, straddling him. Bringing the blanket around her shoulders, she sealed them in together below their necks.

Beneath the blanket, River ran his hands up her bare thighs and let out a long, slow breath. “You’re going to kill me.”

Suddenly it all felt very surreal. “I honestly can’t believe that I’m here and we just had sex on your floor.”

River went in for a kiss and laughed against her mouth. “Does Juno know you’re here?”

“No.”

He lifted a brow. “Does she know we’re … ?”

“She’s asked me a couple times if you were my boyfriend, but …” Jess shook her head. “I’m not really talking about it with her yet.”

He gave a little That’s fair frown and pushed the blanket off her shoulders, drawing lazy spirals over her collarbones. “But I assume Fizzy knows.”

“She practically shoved me out the door with your address in my hand.”

He looked up at her face, realization dawning. “Shit. I forgot to tell you about the cat drawings and giving her my address. I didn’t mean to overstep, but that kid is persuasive.”

With a laugh, Jess waved this off. “Trust me, I know how she operates. It’s why we joke that she’s half Fizzy’s.”

“Still. I’m sorry I didn’t mention it.”

“Are you kidding?” She kissed him again. “I’m sorry because no doubt she made you feel incredibly guilty, questioning everything about yourself, before you finally relented.”

He laughed, tilting his head back and giving her a delightful view of his throat. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you know exactly how it went down.”

“She definitely does not get the evil-genius persuasiveness from me.”

River’s smile stuttered; Alec was there with them now. River reached up to twist a long strand of her hair around his finger.

Jess cleared her throat. “Or her father, for that matter. Like I said: she’s half Fizzy’s.”

“Her father’s not in the picture at all?” River asked quietly.

“Alec, and no.”

“So he won’t ever—”

“Try to share custody?” Jess anticipated the end to the question, shaking her head. “No. He signed away his rights before Juno was born.”

River blew out a surprised breath. “What a dick.”

She loved that this was his reaction, but she didn’t need it. “I’m glad he did.”

He smiled up at her, unsure, and she got a tiny glimpse of River from before, the cautious, shy man who hadn’t yet pulled her proverbial pin and made her come undone.

“What?” she asked, reaching up and drawing a line over the crease in his forehead.

“Has Juno ever met one of your boyfriends?”

Jess laughed and he shifted her forward, closer. She deflected. “Is that what this is? Boyfriend?”

“As soon as I said that word, it seemed both a presumption and an underrepresentation.”

“Because ninety-eight,” she said, grinning.

He leaned in, kissing her neck. “Because ninety-eight.”

“The more accurate question,” she said as he kissed his way around the curve of her jaw, “is whether I’ve had a boyfriend since Juno.”

River stilled, and then pulled back, looking at her. “Isn’t she seven?”

“She is. I’ve seen a few people here and there, but no one I would consider a boyfriend.”

He drew another gently looping shape across her collarbone, humming. “Wow.”

“Is that weird?” Jess asked.

“I don’t know. I’m not sure how I would handle it, either, if I had a kid.”

“Do you date a lot?”

He brought both hands below the blanket again and laid them on her hips. It made it hard to focus on his words even when he said, “Not a lot. Some. A couple times a month, maybe? I work a hundred hours a week.”

“Not this week.”

River grinned. “No, not this week. This week I’ve been unable to stop checking in on my Diamond Match.”

She kissed him again, deeper. “I’m glad you’re persistent.”

“One of us has to be.”