Page 77 of Love in the Lab
It’s been a long day, between traveling and sightseeing, and we’ll be busy again tomorrow when the conference starts. We head back to the hotel early before the famous Vegas nightlife kicks off.
When we get there, though, we linger in the hallway outside our rooms, neither of us wanting to say goodnight. Today has been perfect, and I don’t want it to end. I lean my head into Jonathan’s chest, and he wraps his arms around me. We stand snuggled into each other for what could be five minutes or five hours. I’ve lost all track of time.
Finally, Jonathan sighs. “We have a busy day tomorrow. I should let you get some rest.” He makes no move to loosen his embrace.
I sigh in response. “I suppose so,” I say, nestling deeper into his chest.
He kisses the top of my head, and I lift my chin, angling for a different kind of kiss. Jonathan presses his mouth to mine, slow and lingering, like sweet molasses on my lips. He kisses me like he can’t stop, but also like there’s no rush, despite the early morning we have tomorrow.
We finally say good night, disappearing through the doors of our separate rooms. I fall asleep with my lips warm and tingling.
Chapter twenty-nine
Molly
The next morning, we need to be up, dressed, and at the conference registration desk by eight. Jonathan must have woken up even earlier than me, because he knocks on my door with an orange juice and croissant that he picked up for me at the hotel cafe downstairs.
“Stop reading my mind!” I tease, grateful for the boost the orange juice will give me.
“Never.” He grins, and we walk toward the elevator.
The croissant is no beignet, but it’s good, and I can probably do without the extra sugar making me feel wired today anyway.
We check in and get our badges, along with a printed-out copy of the conference program. Once conferences go to mobile apps for their programs, I don’t understand why they continue to print a copy for every attendee and include it in their welcome packet. Most of us will be accessing it on our phones anyway.
However, I’m grateful for the solid, professionally-printed program this time. My name is in it! I may collect discarded copies from the other attendees to bring to my family at Thanksgiving next week.
As Jonathan and I step away from the registration desk, the first thing I do is find the Friday lineup and scan for my name. I actually spot Jonathan’s name first, as the second author listed right after mine. It even says,Invited Presentationinstead ofAccepted Presentation, broadcasting that the conference organizers reached out tous, not the other way around.
I’ve presented at conferences before, of course, but this presentation—this project—is special. It aligns with my own research interests, rather than only those of the lab’s PI. It developed as a side project out of my own brain. Possibly most importantly, I worked on it with Jonathan. Also, it doesn’t hurt that our results are generating a lot of interest from our colleagues.
Jonathan leans over my program and taps my name. “Look at that. ‘Molly Delaney, PhD, New Orleans State University.’ I can say I knew you when.” He pretends to wipe a tear from the corner of his eye, but underneath the theatrics I know how genuinely proud of me he is. He’s only told me about a hundred times.
The feeling is mutual. I taphisname.Jonathan P. Stanch, PhD, New Orleans State University. “Right next to mine.”
He grabs my hand and brings it to his lips. “As it should be.”
I chuckle and redirect him. We are here to work, after all, not canoodle.Though there’s always time for that later…
Jonathan and I compare notes on which sessions we each plan to attend today. While Dr. Gantt made it clear that our top priority at the conference is to present on our project, and she doesn’t expect us to report back on the sessions we attend, the CERA conference is full of other scientists and students who get excited about the same nerdy stuff we do. I have a long list of presentations I want to learn from, and Jonathan does, too.
I plan to attend a session on seagrass restoration, while Jonathan decides to brush up on blue carbon offsetting, just in case he decides to take the job Dr. Perron is offering. We agree to meet for lunch and take off in separate directions.
After spending all day yesterday together, even this short morning apart feels brutal. We keep up an ongoing text conversation as we sit through the sessions.
Jonathan:
I hope our presentation won’t be as boring as this one. Seriously, I’m falling asleep, and I didn’t even stay up late last night
Molly:
Too bad for you. I just learned about an ecological modeling program to predict eutrophication
Molly:
So I’m happy
Jonathan:
