“Right.”
With a sloppy salute, the guy set his attention back to walking in a straight line. He mostly succeeded, even. But he didn’t look up again. It made that wistfulness resettle in Adam’s chest.
Jared made it over to the guys’ place, and Adam stayed there, gazing upward, looking over occasionally as one by one, the lights in both houses went out. The tightness behind his ribs eased a little with every one, until he was well and truly alone.
And it was a strange thing, solitude. Back at home, there’d been him and his parents and his brothers, and in college, he’d always had a roommate. Being all alone for any significant length of time had been a rarity, but when it had happened, it’d been both incredible and terrible. Stifling. Like a really nice jacket that never managed to fit quite right.
It fit better than usual right now.
He wasn’t sure how much time passed like that, and he should’ve been bored. Should’ve been exhausted. But there was something about the cool relief of the night and the company of the stars.
And then there were footsteps, crunching on the gravel.
Intellectually, he’d known Jo was still on campus, but looking out toward the road to see her approaching was a jolt. An unexpected interruption to his vigil. She had a binder hugged close to her chest, and there was a certain easiness to her gait he hadn’t seen on her before.
The idea of solitude came back to him as he watched her. It clung to her like a second skin, molding to her every curve, and he hadn’t thought her pretty, necessarily, by light of day. Attractive, sure, but her jaw had been too square and her edges all too sharp. Now, though, she was walking slowly, limbs loose.
Face full of wonder as she stared up at the stars. Unaware she was being observed, and all the more relaxed for it.
And she was beautiful.
He let the silence linger, let himself remain undetected for as long as he dared. Only when she reached the point where she was bound to notice him if she kept going did he clear his throat.
“Quite a view, huh?”
She startled, and yeah, just like that, some of the edges returned, as hard and harsh as they had been before. But earlier he hadn’t known what she looked like when she thought she was alone.
“Yes,” she said, curt as anything, and her gaze darted toward her front door.
“I think they’ve all gone to bed already. You should be safe.” It was like when he’d left the message for Shannon, revealing more than he wanted to.
Her fingers tightened on her binder. All day long, he’d been avoiding looking at her and avoiding her gaze out of… what? Some misplaced sense of pride because she’d gotten the jump on him when he’d tried to show off, helping her with her bags? Because she’d looked away from him first? Well, they were staring right at each other now, and he didn’t know what she saw. He wasn’t even entirely sure what he saw.
But whatever it was, it made him feel less alone.
She blinked first, turning her head to glance toward the girls’ house. “Thanks. I’m going to—”
“Yeah, it’s late.”
“Okay.” She lingered with one foot planted and the other edging away for half a beat. Then with resolve, she turned and stalked off. When she got to the door, she didn’t gaze back at him. But she did take one last, longing look up at the stars.
The door closed behind her, leaving him by himself again.
For the second time that night, he gazed at the galaxy above him. And murmured, “Good night,” to a woman who wasn’t listening.
Chapter Four
Jo shoved her pencil between her teeth, balancing her binder on her knees as she leaned forward and typed another set of coordinates into the terminal window on her computer screen. She glanced at the calendar on the desk beside it. One week to go until her first observing run on the telescope, and she had a lot to do between now and then.
In the week she’d been here so far, she’d dived right in, running through all the background material Heather had assembled for her and learning her way around the systems. She’d even sat in on one of Heather’s sessions with the telescope so she’d be prepared for when it was her turn.
She hadn’t pissed off Heather or killed her roommate or otherwise insulted or injured anyone else in the program. So really, it was all win.
That track record wasn’t going to be easy to hold on to, though. She frowned at the dates highlighted in blue on that calendar. Field trips¸ Dr. Galloway had called them. The whole gang was piling into cars and heading to the beach and the rain forest and even some random little island off the coast for an overnight escapade, and it was fine. Great. She’d always wanted to see the rain forest. But it was also concentrated time in cars and exotic locations with people. And it was time away from work.
Speaking of time away from work…
Jo looked up at the sound of a tentative knock on the door of the office she shared with her advisor. Carol stood there, an uncertain smile on her face. “Hey.”
“Hi, Carol,” Heather said from behind Jo, and Jo entertained a brief moment of hope that Carol was there to ask Heather a question, but no. Of course not.
“Hey,” Carol said again, addressing Jo for sure this time. “I’m heading over to the house. We’re all getting together to cook dinner in a bit. You in?”
Something uncomfortable flipped over inside Jo’s gut as she pulled the pencil from between her teeth. “I don’t know…” She knew. Keeping her distance was her best shot at holding on to her streak of goodish behavior. She looked around at all the stuff she’d managed to pile up on her desk already. It was the excuse she always fell back on, but it wasn’t like it was a lie or anything. “I have a lot of work to do,” she hedged.
“Oh, please.” Heather’s voice rang out from behind her.
Frowning, Jo looked over at her advisor. “Excuse me?”
Heather had turned to face her computer but was still waving a hand dismissively at them. “You’re a week ahead of my schedule for you. Go. Have some fun for goodness’ sake.”
And that was… really nice to hear actually. This internship was so short, and Jo’s expectations for it so ambitious. The whole time, thus far, she’d felt like she was behind.
“You heard the woman,” Carol said with a smirk. “Besides, Anna and Adam got someone to give them a ride to the grocery store, and they picked up some stuff specially for you.”
“For me?” Now Jo was really confused.
“Um, the whole vegetarian thing?” Right, because Anna had noticed that on the very first day, and a few others had given her sympathetic looks the couple of times she’d been cajoled into joining them for a meal. “We’re making stir-fry, and they picked up some tofu or whatever, so you can actually eat real food for once.”
Jo’s stomach growled at just the thought. She’d been doing okay, sneaking in peanut butter sandwiches between plates of limp vegetables and plain starches, but actual, honest-to-God food sounded amazing. Still, she sucked her lip ring into her mouth with a rough tug. “That sounds great. Just…”
“Just nothing. Come on. Walk back with me now and we can help cook.”
Cocking an eyebrow, Jo deadpanned, “Did someone get a fire extinguisher for the place?”
“Whatever. I can help cook. You can stay out of the way and glower at people. Come on.”
Well, when she put it that way.
Giving in, Jo held up her hands, then took a second to save her work and pack up her things. When she was done, she shoved a couple of articles into her bag and slung it over her shoulder.
On multiple levels, it was weird, walking back with Carol. First, Jo was used to walking to and from the lab alone, and second, she rarely made the trek before nightfall. Damn, it was hot during the day. And bright. She directed her gaze upward, missing the darkness and the shining spiral of Scorpius unwinding itself across the sky. And there were other nice views around that time, too.