Riding the Waves. Tawny Weber
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face. “Yep, he was so thrilled to have broken that mathematical code, he didn’t even grumble when I shoved him out the door before he could finish zipping his pants.”
Mouth still agape, Nikki shook her head in pitying shock. “How on earth do you find these guys?”
“It’s a gift,” Dru mused.
“I think this guy’s worse than that Nobel laureate you went out with who carried a picture of Einstein in his pocket along with a condom.”
“And insisted on both during sex,” Dru agreed, wrinkling her nose at the memory. “The condom was welcome, but sadly, the only one of the three of us to end up with wild-sex hair was ole Al.”
And only to Nikki would Dru confess such a thing. Years of moving from town to town—her parents usually on the run from creditors—on top of Dru’s own innate shyness, had made it difficult for her to make friends. Even college, or colleges since she’d attended four, had been spent on the move, with Dru having to hold down three jobs to pay for school and living at home to cut expenses.
But when she’d come to work at Trifecta, Nikki had taken Dru under her wing. Now Nikki was her best friend and one of the few people she worked with whom she also saw socially. The lab, National Physics Trifecta, was a brain trust that specialized in the three branches of physics: astro, nuclear and quantum. While Dru was all about the astro, Nikki—despite her sweet dimples and luxurious black curls—was nicknamed the ball breaker of the quantum physics lab.
Not only was she in a different department from Dru, Nikki was almost a different species. Optimistic, upbeat and outgoing, with a curvy figure that turned men’s heads, the brunette was Dru’s polar opposite.
Blond, cool and contained, Dru knew she put off a don’t-touch-me air. She didn’t mean to, but couldn’t seem to change it. So she’d had to find a way to make it work for her. She’d finally figured that if she held her head high and remembered to make at least one friendly comment a day, she was fine. Now everyone at the lab thought she was just reserved, offering respect and a level of deference she knew was rare, given her age and nonleadership position.
And to keep that respect, it was vital that any and all details of her miserable love life remain private.
It helped that the lab had very stringent interpersonal-relationship rules. Friendships were fine, but dating was frowned on. Not that Dru would ever date anyone she actually had to work with. She’d seen too many relationships crash and burn. And somehow, while the guy managed to waltz away with his career intact, the woman always paid a price.
Because nothing, not even her bashfulness or a lack of partner-generated orgasms, would get in the way of her career security. She couldn’t afford to let it. And so far, that strategy was working quite well.
Now to figure out how to make her love life work, too.
After years of bad dates, she’d finally decided to approach dating as a hypothesis. She carefully chose men who were her intellectual equal based on the premise that all men had the same basic equipment and drive. Given that the brain was the largest erogenous zone, she was sure intellectual stimulation was just as vital as clitoral stimulation in achieving sexual satisfaction.
At least, she’d been pretty sure. It was damn hard to test a theory if all the guys she dated had the sexual skills of a ninth-grade nerd with a National Geographic fetish.
It was enough to make a woman question her hypothesis. To say nothing of her ability to ever have a decent sex life.
“Okay, so the sex has been a little, well, lousy. But don’t give up on men,” Nikki said, breaking through Dru’s dismal realizations with forced cheer. “What about Kyle, that new guy in the lab? He’s cute, in a horn-rimmed sort of way.”
Dru was shaking her head before Nikki even finished the sentence.
“He’s also a coworker. You know how Dr. Shelby feels about fraternization. If I started dating, or worse, having lousy sex, with the guys here, word would get around. It’d haunt me. My private life would be fodder for the water cooler chitchat. And any success I have, people would wonder who I slept with to get there.”
Nikki gave her a long look, trying to poke a hole in that excuse. Finally she shrugged and said, “We don’t have water coolers.”
Dru rolled her eyes.
“Look, why don’t you quit the geeks and go for a hottie?” Nikki suggested, wiping her mouth before opening a bag of corn chips. Dru’s mouth watered. Whether it was over the chips or the visual of hottie-sex, she didn’t know.
Ignoring the drool collecting in the corners of her lips, she reminded herself of the five pounds she’d been trying to lose since New Year’s and said, “Because boredom makes for poor foreplay?”
Which she knew firsthand, since the last three guys she’d dated had almost foreplayed her to sleep. And God knew she’d be the ultimate snoozefest to some poor guy who didn’t talk science. It went back to that shyness thing. If she was talking shop, she was fine. Social chitchat? Zzzz.
“Oh, my God, Dru. What does a guy have to do? Discuss the theory of relativity while going down on you? You need to disconnect your brain from your—”
“Okay,” Dru interrupted before Nikki could start naming parts of her anatomy. “I get your point. But I don’t agree. I really believe that unless we have common interests, there’s no point in dating or having sex—albeit lousy sex—with a guy.”
“There are other things to talk about than science, you know,” Nikki snapped, the frustration creasing her brow echoed in her tone.
Dru wasn’t about to open the door to another conversation about her social skills. The last time she’d cracked it open by mentioning that she didn’t know how to dance, Nikki had forced her to spend twelve Saturdays at dance clubs. Talk about misery squared.
“Look, even if I wanted to research alternate dating pools, when do I have time?” she protested, her tone making it clear she’d rather be staked naked to the astronomy tower during a public meteor-shower tour.
“You know I’m already working fifty hours a week. I help my mom on weekends. The cosmic string project starts next month and as soon as—” not if, she refused to consider failure “—I get the grant, I’ll be so busy I won’t have time to masturbate, let alone date.”
“A woman always has time to masturbate,” Nikki intoned.
Dru shrugged, waving her carrot stick in surrender before snapping off a bite.
“Sooo…” Nikki drew the word out as she carefully wiped her fingers on a napkin.
“So… What?” Dru asked, not liking the glint in her friend’s chocolate-brown eyes.
“So, I have an idea.”
Just as she would if a student was about to pitch a half-baked astrological theory, Dru folded her hands on the table, arched her brow and gave Nikki a patient, you-are-probably-insane look.
“Take a vacation.”
The knots in Dru’s shoulders unwound. Well, that wasn’t too crazy.
“Someplace totally away from here, completely relaxing and extremely decadent.”
A vision of sand, surf and sun filled her imagination. Wouldn’t that be glorious?
“Mmm, maybe I’ll book a cruise or something this summer,” Dru murmured. An entire week filled with strappy sandals, rich food and sarong-covered bikinis while she read by the water. Heaven. “I’ve always wanted to visit Cancún. Or maybe the Bahamas.”
“No. Now. Next week, before your schedule turns crazy with the grant interviews and the guest lecturer and this upcoming project that will bury you in seventy-hour weeks.”
Unspoken was Nikki’s belief that Dru would make excuses and not take a vacation. But the message was clear in the stubborn