U of M Series: The Chemistry Poet

Chapter 10: Piper

I entered lab determined to find my chemistry poet. I narrowed it down to a few people. No scratch that, I hoped the mystery writer was one of three people. James, David, or Dylan. I decided on those three based on sociability, attractiveness, and the fact they have all probably at least kissed a girl before. Some of the guys in this class wouldn't know what to do with a naked woman in front of them, and yeah, I know porn and their imagination could possibly help them write about it, but I just feel like this guy has done the real thing.

Sawyer crossed my mind, of course. And believe me, I'd love it with a capital L if it were him. Nothing would be more perfect than if the guy I salivated over on the reg and the guy of my dreams were one in the same. I removed him on my list because I read the most beautiful passage in the journal last night. Like swoon worthy, husband material, please-be-the-father-of-my-babies beautiful. And that's why I know it's not him. If it had been all sex and smut, then maybe, but it isn't. Considering he is man whore extraordinaire, he is not the mystery chemistry poet. I'd be lying if I said my heart didn't sink at that. And my vagina might have cried, just a little. 

 So, I started with James. I could definitely see him being a total package. He'll be a doctor, probably a surgeon. Cute. Green eyes. Nice body. Not Sawyer nice, but nice enough. He'd even asked me out last year. I turned him down and told him I was focusing on school. 

It had been all too easy to get his attention. I am a bartender after all, I know how to flirt to get a good tip. We had it all set. We decide to hang out Friday, and then Sawyer comes in. Late, I might add. James practically popped a boner for Sawyer. I might as well have been an afterthought. His excitement was palpable when Sawyer invited him to hang out after the game. 

Sawyer definitely is jealous. He puffed his chest out, staking a claim. Since when did he want to claim me? Because, yes please. I mean no, because he's a love them and leave them type. Don't need to be distracted by him this close to the med school interviews and application time. Nor heartbroken. I don't know if I could be a quick tryst type of girl. But god, maybe I should try. Just to see what it'd be like to be with him. 

Then he got all flirty and touchy and up in my personal space. For a moment, I thought he would kiss me. I nearly tossed the poet and James all out the window. But then I remembered I'd probably be tossing my future out the window with them because to be with Sawyer, puffed up feathers and all, is to care for Sawyer. I can see it. He all but verified it. 

He noticed my OCD. They all do eventually. He called me a robot. Obviously, he didn't know what it meant to me and doesn't know I have a real illness, but it hit me hard in the center of my chest immediately. Even if he wants me now, he won't once he realizes I really am like a robot. Counting things over and over again, sometimes to the point it hinders my life. No one wants to deal with this.

 Then he had to take me by surprise. Instead of telling me to stop counting or that I was crazy, he offered to count our supplies for me. No one had ever done that for me before. It somehow eased the anxiety. Of course, I looked over his shoulder the whole time, but he could interrupt my compulsive need just a bit. He made sure to carefully place them back down exactly how I had them arranged, as if he knew exactly what I needed.

All that had been right after he traced his thumb over my bottom lip. And sweet baby Jesus, how I wanted to jump his bones right then. Looking sexy as sin, and smelling all masculine after his practice. Pretty sure he is a walking aphrodisiac.

Now in lab, I can't seem to concentrate. I nearly ruin our titration experiment by releasing too much base when I get distracted by him bending over to grab his pencil off the ground. Hockey does an ass good apparently. 

Trying to snap to, I return to titrating until he places his hand on the small of my back reaching for something from behind me. Even through the lab coat and my shirt, his warmth scalds my skin and tingles shoot through me. 

My eyes flutter shut until I bump something with my hand. "Shit!" I spilled some type of acid out of a graduated cylinder all over the counter. I yelp and jump back. 

Luckily Sawyer is thinking straight and is quick to act. He pours a base all over the spreading liquid. Not sure if that's how they expect us to clean up chemical spills, but it effectively neutralizes the acid nonetheless.

"Fuck, Piper. Are you okay?" 

I sit there with my mouth agape staring at him. 

"Piper?"

"Umm. Yeah. Sorry. I'll go grab more."

"Okay. I'll clean this up."

I head over to the hood but there is no more acid left. I check the other hood and that bottle is empty too. I stride to the stockroom, heading to the acids cabinet. I pause and take a deep breath. Get it together, Pipes. Don't let a cute boy distract you.

"Piper?" 

The sound of my name in his deep baritone undoes me. I'm a goner. Snapping toward him, I yank off my goggles and throw them to the ground before closing in on him. I press my lips to his. 

I took him by surprise. For three excruciating seconds he's frozen. I'm the only one doing the kissing. Before I can pull away and embarrassingly apologize, he comes to. He snakes a hand on the small of my back and presses me flush against him and deepens the kiss. 

His large luscious lips traverse over mine several times before his tongue dips in and out of my mouth. His lips are salty from the sweat of his morning practice and his masculine smell at this proximity encompasses all of me. He kisses the corner of my mouth and trails his lips further down my neck. He fingers my ponytail, tugging it slightly to gain better access to my neck. Finding the sensitive spot on my neck, a sound of pleasure escapes me.

He pulls away for a second. "Damn these things," he says as he tosses his goggles away. There are marks of them surrounding his eyes. He claims my lips once more and pushes me against one of the cabinets. Bottles clink and clatter against each other. His hand caresses my ass through my jeans and he lifts my leg, encircling it around his waist, pushing us even closer than before. 

Heat fills my body. I don't think I've ever wanted anyone this much before. I can tell he's just as affected by his hard length grinding against me—the rubbing heightening my excitement.

Again glass vials tinker and clatter in the cabinet behind me. Reality of where we are and what we are doing is like a splash of cold water. Fuck. What am I doing? Here, in the stockroom of the chemical lab. Anyone can see us. And I'm here with him. Mr. Off-limits.

I break our kiss and shove him away. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have..." 

My breathing is labored between my words. "I don't know what I was thinking." I smooth my pony tail. "I'm sorry," I repeat. 

Then I take off running out the side door that leads to the hallway instead of back into the lab. My ballet flats smack against the tile echoing as I run down the corridor as far away as I can from Sawyer Freakin' Daniels.