Total pages in book: 12
Estimated words: 11178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 56(@200wpm)___ 45(@250wpm)___ 37(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 11178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 56(@200wpm)___ 45(@250wpm)___ 37(@300wpm)
I stared at her, trying to figure out what the hell she was trying to say. I did recall having said that, but I’d been lying through my teeth. I’d wanted the sex too; I’d just wanted the comfort more.
She sighed. “So the article I read mentioned there’s an app that’s like a dating app but also has other things like a classified section for getting help doing stuff around the house and whatever. Shit like that.”
“You mean Heart2Heart?”
She pointed at me. “Yes, that’s it. Well, they have this platonic section where you can seriously just say you want someone to hold hands or spoon with. This article talked about… wait. Dude. I sent you the article! You didn’t read it?”
She didn’t wait for me to answer before waving her hand in the air like it didn’t matter. “Anyway, I sent it to you because it was about the evolutionary need for human touch and how it’s become a biologic imperative for… I don’t know. Some brainiac bullshit about neural circuitry. The point is. You need some.”
I blinked at her. “I need some.”
I needed some all right, but I needed the kind of human touch with a dick involved. And hard fucking. I needed angry sex to work out my frustration over this expedition rejection. That was what I wanted, at least. But I wasn’t going to pursue it.
I was taking a break from sex with strangers after a particularly bad experience with a guy who was too annoying and rough. The experience hadn’t turned dangerous, but it had been just close enough to remind me it could have. And I didn’t need that kind of stress right now on top of everything else.
“It would be nice to have someone to snuggle with,” I admitted. “I can’t think of the last person I slept with where there was spooning involved.”
Hallie sighed. “Yeah. Same. You haven’t really dated anyone since Lowell, have you?”
I glared at her. “I’ve just been rejected from the most important career opportunity of my life, and you have to bring up Lowell? Do you hate me?”
She stretched her leg across the sofa to nudge my hip with her foot. “Sorry, Jack. He was an ass. Probably still is. Besides, he probably wasn’t any good at cuddling to begin with. The man was about as comforting as a bag of sticks and rocks.”
Hallie wasn’t wrong. My ex was not only stiff and oddly formal, but he was also all elbows and knees. And way more interested in marine microplastics and their effect on food webs than me. Which was fine. Ocean pollutants were, indeed, a serious issue. But so was my need for affection.
“Great, now I’ve slipped from disappointed to morose,” I muttered. “Maybe I need alcohol.”
Hallie leaned forward and grabbed my laptop. “No. You need a big bear of a guy to snuggle the shit out of you tonight. I’m going to hook you up.”
I ignored her as she began typing because my mind was suddenly diverted by the mention of a big bear of a guy.
Professor Henry was a big bear of a guy. I’d spent the first two weeks of my first semester daydreaming about him naked. Unlike many of my previous science professors, Professor Henry was fairly young. I’d have been surprised if he was even close to forty yet.
He was tall and broad, thick with muscles, and broody as fuck. His thick, wavy hair always seemed to be windblown and matched the dark beard he wore. Which, of course, perfected the lumberjack look he had to have been going for with his typical “jeans and flannel shirt” ensemble.
But he was a hateful asshole. Obviously. After those first two weeks of ignorant bliss, I’d learned he had it out for me. He called on everyone except for me. He returned my assignments with harsh notes of criticisms and warnings to do better.
And he’d even avoided me during his office hours.
That had stung like a bitch.
I’d run into Yi Shao coming out of Professor Henry’s office, beaming as if she’d been privy to the answers for the upcoming exam. But when I’d knocked on the doorframe to ask him a quick question, he’d gruffly explained he was already late for a departmental meeting and would have to answer my question via email instead.
His answer had been short and unhelpful. He’d reminded me that the most successful graduate students were the ones who knew how to seek the answers they needed without expecting them to be handed to them on a silver platter.
Professor Henry’s admonishment had intimidated me and caused me to second-guess my relationship with every other professor in the program.
And now here I was, facing another rejection at his hands.
I felt my confidence crumbling. Normally, I had a positive outlook and was pretty good at overcoming challenges like this, but tonight… tonight I really was tempted to crawl into the comforting arms of a stranger and accept whatever affectionate touch I could get.