Page 74 of Love in the Lab
Her eyes shine. “I love you.”
I close the gap between us and kiss her tenderly and slowly, like we have all the time in the world.
Of course, we don’t, which the middle-aged flight attendant makes apparent when she clears her throat disapprovinglybefore asking what we’d like to drink. I flash her my most charming smile, and before she moves on, I’ve won her over. She promises to bring me the entire can of root beer when she comes back instead of the little plastic cup that’s mostly ice with a swallow of soda.
The rest of the four-hour flight is uneventful. When the captain asks us to put our seats and tray tables in the upright and locked position, I peer out the window. Rugged, snowcapped mountains jut up below us. I grew up in Ohio, was in Florida a while, and have lived in Louisiana ever since. Mountains are a beautiful novelty.
Molly must feel the same—growing up in Texas and living in Louisiana—because she gasps as she leans closer to the window.
Soon the mountains give way to a flat grid of buildings and roads that grow larger as the plane dips closer to the ground. We’ve arrived.
Chapter twenty-eight
Molly
The first thing I notice about Las Vegas is the noise. Even in the airport, the chiming bells of slot machines echo through the corridors. When we step outside, the next thing I notice is the lack of humidity in the air. It’s probably ten degrees cooler here, and I’m instantly grateful I packed layers for the conference.
Jonathan and I take a taxi to the conference hotel, passing neon billboards on the short trip. I watch the tall, shiny buildings grow closer as we near the Strip, but our hotel is right on the edge, so we can’t see many of the landmarks yet.
Though we’ve been traveling for more than four hours, it’s two hours earlier here, so it’s actually not much later here than when we left New Orleans. The conference starts tomorrow morning, which gives us all afternoon to explore.
The first step is to get checked into the hotel so we can ditch our luggage. As we approach the front entrance, my head is on a swivel. Across the street is a shopping plaza with a giant Coca-Cola bottle and large M&M's characters adorning the front. Down the street, a roller coaster looms almost as tall as the hotels around it. I shake my head. New Orleans is known as a fun city, but Las Vegas is next-level.
At the front desk, Jonathan convinces the clerk, whose name tag says Justin, to give us rooms near each other. He chats with him about exploring the Strip.
“You know about the monorail, right?” Justin asks.
Jonathan’s eyes jump to mine, and I grin at him. A monorail sounds fun.
“No. Can you tell us about it, please? It’s our first time in Vegas.”
“Sure! There’s a monorail that runs the length of the Strip. You can get on and off at various stops. It’s a great way to get an overview of the area, especially if you’ve never been here before.”
We thank Justin and head to the elevator to find our rooms.
“Drop off our bags and then monorail?” Jonathan asks as the elevator doors close behind us.
“Sounds like a plan. I want to take a shower and change first, though. I feel like I smell like airplane.” I scrunch my nose.
Jonathan raises his eyebrows and opens his mouth, but I put my finger over his lips. “Still not an invitation.” I laugh, shaking my head.
He smirks. “One of these days…”
I pat his chest. “You’ll be the first to know,” I promise.
Jonathan’s room is right next door to mine, and I leave him with a quick kiss while I get settled.
I close the door to my hotel room, then lean against it, closing my eyes and smiling. It’s sofunto be traveling with Jonathan, exploring a new city with him before giving the biggest presentation of my career to date.
Despite the heavy conversation on the plane, I feel light. I acknowledge that it’s at least partly because Jonathan needed me, and I was there for him. I contributed to the relationship in a way that benefited Jonathan, despite my fears about symbiosis. It makes me think maybe I can do this. I can be a scientist, a daughter, a sister,anda partner, balancing it all. I can allow myself to be loved the way Jonathan wants to love me and love him in return.
I shower and change, texting Jonathan when I’m finished. For this trip, I decided to switch things up from my normal leggings and T-shirts, at least for a few outfits. I may have ended up dropping down the rabbit hole of the internet when I searched “women’s outfits las vegas november” and spent several hours poring over the results. Most of the outfits weren’t for me; they looked uncomfortable, or revealing, or just too flashy. I bought a couple pairs of dark, stretchy pants—it’s really amazing the kinds of pants you can get with elastic waistbands these days—and a few long-sleeve blouses with subtle patterns and dark colors. The one I’m wearing now has swirls of black and silver against a cream background.
Moments later, there’s a knock on my hotel room door. I open it to find Jonathan standing in the hall, holding out a single flower with one hand, his other hand behind his back.
“What’s this?” I ask, my face splitting into a smile. The flower is a rich red color with a trumpet shape that reminds me of lilies. The long stem has vibrant green leaves angled off it.
It’s beautiful, but I find myself staring more at the man holding it. He changed his clothes, too, and is now wearing black fitted jeans with a maroon long-sleeve button-down shirt. I chuckle. Looks like we both decided to dress up more while we’re here.
