Page 7 of Love in the Lab
I have to swallow before I can brilliantly respond, “Yeah.”
But when I start to follow her out of the water, I’ve forgotten how to move my legs. I slosh ungracefully to shore, where we remove the boots and waders and pack everything back in the truck.
It’s a quick drive to the next site, farther east. Again, we park on the side of the road, suit up, and wade into the water.
As Molly collects the sample, I can’t help but tease her. “Hey, Mol Madness!” I call.
When I’m certain she’s looking at me, I stretch my hand to the side and dip it in the water as if I’m going to splash her.
She glares at me, face as hard as stone. “No.”
“Aw, come on! Water fight?”
“No. I'm working.”
I exaggerate a sigh. “Don’t you think work should be fun?”
“No,” she answers. “I think work should be work.”
Molly finishes filling the sample bottle the final time. She looks like she wants to chuck it at my face. “I need to focus, Jonathan.”
My pulse races when she says my name. I think it’s the first time she’s ever called me Jonathan, or at least the first time in a long time, and I like it a little too much.
“We’ll see.” I smirk.
With a withering look, she shoves the sample bottle into my chest and stomps away. Or at least she tries to. Instead, the next thing I know, she’s tripping forward. I try to grab her, but she’s already out of arm’s reach.
I’m too late, and Molly tumbles face-first into the water.
Chapter three
Molly
I’m soaked to the skin. Worse, these waders are filling up with heavy water, which makes it impossible for me to move. At least my glasses stayed put, though the lenses are dotted with water droplets.
“Are you okay?” Jonathan asks as he pulls me back to my feet, his expression alarmed.
No. I amnotokay. I haven’t been okay this whole freaking day. My clothes are sticking to my skin. The suspenders on the waders are rubbing across my shoulder blades and have been driving me crazy. My hair feels too heavy on my head, especiallywith this terrible hat on. Plus, the water dripping off me smells like rotten eggs mixed with decaying vegetables,and I think some went into my mouth!
But this is Jonathan asking, my archnemesis, so I answer with, “Yes, fine.”
Jonathan helps pull me to shore, and I shuck off the waders, holding them upside down to drain the water out. When I look up again, Jonathan’s frozen in place, staring at me with a dumbfounded expression.
“What?” I demand, removing my glasses and fruitlessly trying to dry them on the hem of my shirt.
He clears his throat. “You’re soaked.”
I roll my eyes.No kidding.
“What happened?” he asks.
“What happened was I tripped in your giant clown boots because apparently you have feet the size of tugboats."
Jonathan’s eyes twinkle. “I have towels in the truck.” He hesitates. “Do you have a change of clothes?”
Oh, heck no. Itoldhim I wasn’t prepared, but he bullied me into coming anyway. Is it my fault I forgot that Dr. Gantt told me I’d be starting fieldwork today? Well, yes. But still, he has the nerve to ask this? “Do I have a change of clothes?Do I have a change of clothes?”
“Right. Stupid question. Sorry.”
