Page 10 of A Brush with Love
At this point, he was downright snickering at her. She clapped a hand over her face and made a blind punch for his shoulder in a weird attempt at self-preservation.
“I’m sorry, Harper, are these names supposed to indicate that what popped into my head is somehow wrong?”
Her face flushed a deep crimson, and she peeked at him through her fingers. Dan’s smile grew wider, that gorgeous dimple making another guest appearance. He was so cute it was almost obscene.
“I officially hate you. It gets air bubbles out of stone pourings.” She gave his wheeled lab chair a hefty push with her foot and he started to roll away, laughing. Harper broke out in helpless giggles.
“I’m sorry—I’m sorry! You would think they would come up with names a little less… primed for innuendos,” he said, wheeling back toward her.
“I think to be an innuendo, it has to be subtle. That was anything but.” She turned back to their work, but the smile refused to leave her heated cheeks. “I guess they assume the future doctors of America are a little more mature than that.”
“Guess I’m not cut out for the job.” Something sadder and darker flitted to the surface of his gleaming eyes, but it was gone before Harper could define it—his goofy smile firmly back in place.
They spent the next half hour in the connected wet lab. Harper showed Dan how to mix and set the powdered stone, the finished product coming out nearly perfect with minimal issues along the way. They both shared a moment of delicate pride at what they’d created together. As they were cleaning up, Dan broke the peaceful silence that had fallen between them.
“Do you want to grab some food?”
Harper’s eyes darted up to his. Working together in the lab was one thing. The lab was her domain, her safety net of skill, and a place she rarely felt awkward or nervous. Interacting with Dan in the real world felt infinitely more terrifying.
“T-together?”
“Preferably. I mean, we can sit at different tables if you want? I hate to think I’m that terrible of company.”
“No! No. That’s not what I mean. I—I mean—we don’t really—know each other… Do we?” She searched his face for confirmation.
Dan let out a soft laugh. “No, we don’t,” he confirmed, ducking his head and running a palm across his neck. “Which is kind of why I asked.”
Her eyes bounced around the room, unable to rest on one thing, as the familiar pulse of anxiety started in her stomach and radiated outward to her limbs.
It wasn’t that she didn’twantto eat with him, it was more that she didn’t know if she physicallycould. The whole exercise had been a teaching one, a situation that provided her confidence and a constant flow of conversation. Helping him had automatically afforded her value and didn’t require her to slide real pieces of herself across a table in an exchange of emotional currency.
Sharing a meal tilted the dynamic in a way she didn’t think she was capable of functioning in, not when he made her nerves feel like they’d been plunged into a socket with a metal fork.
“I have to study,” she blurted out. This was the truth. Glancing at the clock on the wall, she felt panic tickle at her rib cage.
“Who doesn’t?” He shrugged. “But you also need to eat. Fuel that big ole brain.” He tapped his finger lightly on her temple, and Harper felt like she was going to pass out.
All she could do was stare at him, paralyzed by the equally strong forces of want and fear. It wasn’t a new sensation; she was constantly immobilized by warring impulses until anxiety eventually won out and she retreated from the tempting distraction.
But as Dan smiled at her—a look that was warm and soft and encouraging—want gained the upper hand.
“Come on,” he finally said, grabbing both of their bags and slinging them over one shoulder. He took her hand and led her toward the exit.
“Where are we going?” she asked nervously, but she didn’t try to take her hand away.
CHAPTER 5
DAN
Stepping out of school was like stepping out of a bubble. No one was fully human under the fluorescent lights of the clinic. Emotions and personalities were largely unzipped and hung up outside the school doors, allowing only the callused skin ofintellectualsto enter. Leaving at the end of the day left you feeling naked and exposed, blinking at the world around you and trying to remember how to be a person.
Dan lifted the collar of his coat against the wind and jammed his frozen fingers into his pockets. Glancing at Harper, he felt the delicate thread of their newfound closeness fraying. He wasn’t sure how to navigate the awkward reality of being strangers in the real world.
Her eyes danced around the street, unwilling to land near him for too long. Dan was glad to know he wasn’t alone in his cluelessness about what came next. He was struck by the overwhelming impulse to do something ridiculous, like lick the tip of her nose or say something stupid just to make her laugh. He wanted to watch the nervous energy drain from her face and see it bloom with humor.
Harper cleared her throat, and he realized how long he’d been staring at her.Super chill, Dan. Really killing it.
“Do you like Jewish delis?” he asked. “Like hoagies and stuff? I’ve heard of this great place on Eighth and Sansom I’ve wanted to try.”
