“Congratulations, you know the basics of astronomy,” Eli countered as he continued packing. “I’ve had sex. Lots of times. It just wasn’t that exciting,” he said with a shrug, forcing Matteo to choke back a laugh.
“That sounds like a skill issue but I’m happy to offer some tips or send you some links if you need help.”
Elio drew back, scowling. “I don’t need any help. I know how to have sex and how to satisfy a man, I just don’t care about it as much as the three of you do.”
“Or you could be in denial. Maybe that’s why you want to move to Muriel’s,” Matteo said with a lift of his brows. “You could exclude yourself before and only witnessed our romantic bliss at Schönbühel and over Christmas. You were safely isolated in Cambridge and now that you’re here, you’re seeing thatthere’s more to life and you’re feeling left out and possibly…lonely,” he guessed and seemed pleased with himself but Elio let out a cackle.
“Lonely? How could anyone be lonely here? You two barely sleep and when you’re awake, you’re fucking like bunnies or you’re fighting.”
“I enjoy the fights,” Matteo objected and Elio waved it off.
“I know and I’m happy for you.” He rolled his eyes again. “But I’d rather be happy from a few blocks away where I can think in peace.”
“Muriel’s might be too quiet but there’s no one there to complain about your markers and your dry erase boards.”
“Truman is very weird about his townhouse. Everything must bejust so!” Elio shook his head at Matteo, irritated. “I could learn to like him but he’s a bitch about his house and his furniture.”
It was Matteo’s turn to glare. “I can agree that Truman is a little extreme when it comes to cleanliness and he is paranoid about some of his more valuable pieces.” He held up a finger. “Butanyonewould be bothered if they came home and discovered that a guest had written on every mirror and window and most of the appliances with a red marker.”
“It wasn’t permanent,” Elio replied with a careless shrug. “I had a lot on my mind after the flight and needed tosee itto make sense of it. Everything wiped off.”
“Not everything!” Matteo said and gave him a hard look. “The marble in the foyer still has a pink tint. You couldn’tsee iton a notebook or one of your many devices?”
“No. That’s not how I work, you know this,” Elio said as he grew more frustrated. “I have always needed room to pace and write and I can’t think here, there’s too much noise.”
“They’re giving you an office at Starlight. A nice one, remember?” Matteo said hopefully. Matteo had purchasedseveral large rolling erase boards, hoping to spare Truman’s townhouse and keep Elio happy until it was finished. “It will be ready in a week and they have all kinds of cool spaces for you and the rest of the super geniuses to think and collaborate.”
Matteo had accompanied Elio on his first visit and tour of the Starlight Institute and their Center for Computational Astrophysics on Fifth Avenue. The facility had open common areas that were airy and modern with views of Central Park. There was also a private rooftop garden and courtyard. It was larger than some of the city’s parks, where employees could work and enjoy catered lunches and cocktails in the evenings. Elio was begrudgingly impressed and had admired the sleek black floor-to-ceiling chalkboards and the decadently oversized gray lounge chairs and sofas in the offices and common areas.
His office would have a private bathroom, a massive sectional to stretch out and nap on and a computer that would make any engineer or gamer weep. Starlight was considered the Mount Olympus of American research institutes, where only the best and brightest scientific minds went to work. Elio would havealmostcomplete freedom to research and test anything he wanted, but really, there was only one feature that made Starlight stand out from the rest.
Elio had been courted by nearly every reputable university and institute once word got out that he was interested in leaving Cambridge. Most people—his brothers included—assumed that Elio had chosen Manhattan and Starlight to be closer to Matteo, but he had come to New York with an ulterior motive. While he was interested in his brother’s happiness and welfare, Elio had been watching and waiting until the stars aligned and he could work with Milo Ashby.
Fate had brought them together at Leo and Jonathon’s wedding, almost three years earlier. They had only spoken a few times but that had been enough for Elio to recognize a spark ofbrilliance and the glow of curiosity that the rest of their peers lacked. It had taken years for Elio to achieve the level of success that would give him carte blanche and access to the resources he required. In that time, Elio had looked but no one had impressed him the way Ashby had.
And it had taken time for the younger man to rise within the field of computational astrophysics and settle somewhere they could both work. Elio hadn’t encountered Ashby while he was touring Starlight but intended to seek him out as soon as possible. He also planned to request Ashby as a project partner after they had a chance to catch up. There was the possibility that Ashby was already engaged in another project, but he’d be a fool to pass up a chance to work with a physicist of Elio’s caliber.
His thoughts veered back to pulsars and Elio rubbed his brow, his patience wearing thin. “I can’t wait a week,” Elio replied, grimacing at Matteo. “I have work to donowand I don’t keep regular hours.”
“You’re right, this won’t work,” Matteo said with a heavy sigh. “Let’s get you moved to the Olympia.”
Elio had only seen the famously exclusive apartment building from the outside but had been impressed with its classical Gothic Revival and German Renaissance architecture and the porte cochère entrance that had once welcomed horse-drawn carriages. Overlooking Central Park, the Olympia boasted another important perk: the Ashbys lived there.
Not that Elio was stalking Milo and he had no intentions of intruding upon his personal life, though the close proximity could be useful while they were collaborating. Elio had learned that both of Milo’s biological parents lived in the Olympia. His fathers, Giles and Riley, lived in 8B and his mother, Claire, lived just across the hall from Muriel in 6C. With Muriel in Austria with Jonathon and Leo, the Olympia held far more appeal than Truman’s immaculate house of foot horrors.
“The sooner the better,” Eli said as he reached for his other duffel bag, ready to put the disaster of a morning and his brother’s cursed feet behind him.
Two
One week later…
Just when Milo thought his life couldn’t get worse, Elio von Hessen moved into the Olympia.Right across the hall from his mother’s apartment.It was bad enough, peeking around corners and ducking to avoid Elio at work, but now Milo had to be on guard from the moment he stepped out of one of his front doors. Everyone was talking about it at Starlight and the building was buzzing with the news that a real life prince was in residence at the Olympia.
That was why Milo had scoped out the front of the building and the sidewalk before crossing the street and was hiding behind a floral arrangement in the foyer. He had to make sure the coast was clear before running for the elevator. It was Friday evening and Elio probably had plans and it wasn’t likely that he would want to speak to Milo, but better safe than sorry.
Sorry was exactly how Milo had felt, the first and only time he and Elio had really spoken. Despite his generally abrupt andhostile demeanor, Elio had been surprisingly civilized during that brief conversation. It was after Jonathon and Leo’s wedding at the reception. The drinking age in Austria was 16 and Milo had tried champagne for the first time before he and Elio were pushed together for a waltz.
That was also Milo’s first waltz but Elio had been merciful. He steered them toward a quiet corner and asked Milo his thoughts on the causes of fast blue optical transients and the Tidal Disruptive Event theory. If he had been asked at any other time, Milo could have given a coherent and thoughtful response but all he could do was mumble about stars spaghettifying and accretion discs. Thankfully, Elio lost interest and wandered off before the end of the waltz and merely nodded at Milo in passing or from across the table for the rest of the weekend.
