Page 1 of Bond Strength

Chapter one

Declan

Dating was a ritualistic primate dance, and I still hadn’t learned the steps.

The girl who sat across from me…Barbara? Bingo? Balthazar? Whatever her name was, she’d picked her napkin into twenty-seven pieces during our discussion on terraforming Mars, a real and viable solution to our current problems here on Earth.

Except she gave me that look again, the one that precipitated her making a flimsy excuse and deciding to leave for the night. Which meant I’d failed to pick up the cues, and she wasn’t as engaged in terraforming Mars as I’d hoped. When she’d asked me what sign I was, I thought her interest in astrology would be translatable.

Clearly not.

Maybe I should’ve looked more into astrology before taking a date to Zodiac Brewery, but no hard data existed to explain why being a Virgo meant I was anxious. I was pretty sure my anxiety started when Ilearned the sun would eventually die, and it never quite stopped from there.

“Uh, I need to go to the bathroom,” Balthazar said.

I heaved a sigh, one that came out a lot heavier than intended. At first, I’d thought the first dozen or so women actually had to use the restroom, but I’d cracked the code. “If you want to end the date, we can do that now. You don’t need to pull the disappearing-into-the-bathroom act.”

Getting abandoned middate should be sad, but I was used to it. What I didn’t understand was why people didn’t communicate what they needed. A date was supposed to be about seeing if two people clicked. If they didn’t, they could go their merry ways instead of vanishing on me. The first few times, I’d been concerned the girls had drowned in the toilet.

Balthazar gaped at me as if I’d suggested something groundbreaking instead of basic communication. I might not be the best at reading subtle cues, but clear discussions were necessary in a family as large as mine, and I’d learned the skill early on.

“It’s not just me, though, right?” she said. “There’s not any chemistry here?”

I shrugged. Chemistry was one of those elusive things, humorous since I dealt with it daily on the scientific level. However, when it came to people, I’d been on date after date and rarely felt the sparks everyone talked about. Attraction hit sometimes, and I’d hook up when I needed or wanted to, but yet again, I questioned why I suffered through yet another pointless date.

The truth nagged inside me, ever-present.

Because I waited for someone to magically accept me, like my family did. I’d have better luck applying atomic manipulation to create a molecular wire.

“Right, I’m pretty sure that answers that.” Her brows drew together, and she was huffy, but I had no idea over what. We’d both agreed no mutual interest had emerged between us, and the whole point of dating was to try. The process followed the basic steps of the scientific method. If there was no experimentation, you’d never reach the desired outcome, but you’d have to hypothesize and test along the way.

“I’m fine to sit here and chat over dinner,” I said, even though given how she was glowering, I’d prefer not.

“No, I’m out.” Balthazar shot up from her seat, her beer still half-full. We hadn’t ordered our dinners yet, but that was on my agenda. I was so hungry my stomach kept rumbling. She stormed out the door, leaving me with yet another wasted date on my hands. However, the night didn’t have to be a complete failure. I could still get dinner.

I picked up one of the napkins and pulled out a pen from my messenger bag. I’d been tooling around with an equation, one I needed to work through, and now was as good a time as any. I scratched it out on the napkin, sinking into a comfortable zone.

“Hey, where did your date go?” the waitress asked, drawing me out in the middle of a problem. Irritation prickled through me, but that wasn’t her fault. I’d gotten lost in equations in the middle of a restaurant instead of a private place.

“We weren’t a good fit, but I’d still like to order if possible?”

“Absolutely.” The pink-haired girl was short and had a snarky air to her, probably a few years younger than me. From appearance and tone of voice, she would’ve been better to go on a date with rather than my choice from an app.

But choices had been made.

“Can I have a burger with bacon? But skip the cheese and other toppings. Especially lettuce.”

“Sure. Anything else?”

“That should be good.” I prayed they kept lettuce far away from my plate. It made my skin crawl. Healthy, my ass. Lettuce was a war crime of crunch and slime that had grown in popularity because bunnies were cute and ate it. Bunnies also ate their own shit, so clearly we shouldn’t be taking cues from them.

The server walked away, and I sipped my beer, prepared to dive into the depths of this formula.

A whistle from too close drew my attention. I looked up.

Oh, great.

Noah Langston had been a plague on my life since high school, and I went out of my way to avoid him at any cost.

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