At the institute, Elio was already living up to his volatile reputation—flouting hours and skipping meetings, sniping at his peers, breaking furniture, winging an iPad at his door, scaring off the custodian for cleaning the windows and erasing work… All of that was expected and mostly overlooked because no one had been injured. Yet. Even the Mean Guys were afraid of Elio and in awe of his intelligence.
Milo called them the Mean Guys because they traveled in a pack and all dressed in the same preppy uniform: a button-up shirt with a popped collar and rolled-up sleeves, khakis, and loafers—usually sans socks. Brad, Bryan, Chad, Josh, Kyle, and Tyler. The collective bane of Milo’s existence, they considered themselves the “brains” of Starlight. All were from wealthy families and had attended the best boarding schools. They held court in the main lounge or on the rooftop and made it very clear that Milo couldn’t sit with them.
Not that Milo wanted to. The Mean Guys were legitimately mean to anyone they thought wasn’t posh or smart enough to be in their clique. Milo had overheard Brad and Tylerdiscussing plans to “invite” Elio into their circle before he arrived at Starlight and had secretly wished them luck. To their disappointment and at times visible dismay, Elio turned his nose upat themand preferred to keep to himself, stalking about the institute when he chose to show up.
It was a small blessing that Elio was skipping meetings, they made Milo’s tummy ache in the worst way. There was no shortage of opportunities for the Mean Guys to show off and they refused to call Milo anything other than “Mild Ashby.” Every Monday morning there was a mandatory department meeting and Hector, the co-director, would put a new problem on the board. Whoever solved it first got a $25 Shake Shack gift card but the Mean Guys lorded their winning streaks like they were collecting Nobels.
Unlike Elio, Brad, and Tyler, Milo didn’t have an office he could hide in and his desk was within view of the lounge and the cantina. He was a sitting duck and things were often thrown at his head. He’d lost count of how many times signs had been taped to his back. Milo rarely mentioned any of it to Hector, but when he did the older man would just chuckle and call them all kids and point out how little they had changed since high school.
That was the worst part for Milo. Any bullying and drama he’d been spared from during his high school years was being heaped upon him at Starlight, thanks to the Mean Guys. In high school, most of Milo’s peers were gifted—aka nerds like him—and he spent little time in the actual building. Milo was already interning at local universities and with NASA by the time he was sixteen. While his parents had insisted he attend history and English classes in a public school, Milo rarely encountered other high school students outside of a classroom. He was always in a hurry, rushing between campuses and going to practices.
Being busy had kept Milo out of trouble and away from danger and he had become a pro at evading bullies. With onelast scan of the foyer and a check of the doors, Milo stepped out from his hiding place behind the autumnal floral arrangement and raced for the open elevator. He dodged Ms. Hinkleman and her chihuahua, Caesar, and dove through the doors.
“Hold that!” a voice called just as Milo reached for the 8 button.
“No!” Milo whispered and jabbed the button, recognizing the deep voice. “Please!”
But a tattooed and scarred hand with chipped black fingernails grabbed the left door as it closed and gave it a firm push. “You almost got away from me again,” Elio von Hessen said, a wry smirk tilting his lips as he stepped into the elevator.
“Again?” Milo croaked up at Elio.
Now, Milo was not a short or a small man. He had just turned twenty-one and Milo was exactly 6 feet tall and he was pretty fit. He rowed with his dad every weekend and swam almost every other day. Being on the water or in a pool, rowing or swimming laps, was Milo’s idea of meditating and where he did his best thinking. And Milo dida lotof thinking in the building’s pool or on one of his dad’s rowing machines. All of that thinking had resulted in a lean, muscular physique. But Elio was six years older and towered over Milo in this leather jacket, ripped-up and written-on jeans, and combat boots. Milo gulped and did his best to maintain eye contact and ignore all the tattoos.
There were so many and they made Milo dizzy when he tried to read the theories, problems, calculations, and diagrams tattooed on Elio’s skin. Instead of being intimidated, they irked Milo because he could only see bits and pieces and they left him achingly curious to see the rest. The recent doodles on his jeans were tempting as well but Milo would faint if he got caught staring at Elio’s thighs, backside, or crotch.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” Elio accused but he seemed amused as he planted a hand on the wall next to Milo’s shoulder.
“No, I haven’t,” Milo lied and wrinkled his nose, hunting for an excuse. He didn’t really have one because Elio had never said anything outwardly rude to him. It was more a matter of not wanting someone from the family to “see” him at work and Milo didn’t like that Elio was the cause of those worlds colliding. Milo didn’t hide that he wasn’t popular at work and often vented to his parents and his numerous uncles, aunts, and nieces. But it would be like adding salt to a wound to have someone from the family there to witness it and Elio would definitely tell his brothers.
Which would sting even more because Milo genuinely liked the von Hessens. For true Austrian royals, all four brothers were remarkably down-to-earth and had warmly welcomed the American additions to their family. Elio had been more aloof and distant in his welcome, only attending the wedding and briefly visiting New York the prior Christmas to meet Theo’s new family in Oslo. It was understood that that was warm for Elio as he generally preferred to be left to his research.
“I’ve had a lot going on,” Milo said as he watched the numbers on the panel light up, wishing the elevator would rise faster.
“Hmmm…” The dubious rumble made Milo’s tummy flip and he squirmed as Elio’s eyes narrowed and he leaned in. “I was worried that I had offended you or that you might be upset because Starlight is your territory.”
“My territory?” Milo shook his head quickly. “No way. Most of the people there barely know I exist and the ones that do, I wish they didn’t.”
Elio’s standard scowl darkened. “I have noticed an…unawareness whenever I ask someone if they’ve seen you.”
“Yup! I’m Mr. Invisible,” Milo said with a weak smile. “I like it that way.” That was another lie because Milo had begged Hector to make him project lead a week earlier. While Milodidn’t care about winning gift cards or being popular, he wanted to organize and oversee his first study and show that he could handle more responsibility. “Was there something you needed?” Milo would have to direct Elio to Hector, Brad, or Tyler, though, because he was just another fellow at the institute. Hector didn’t think Milo was management material yet.
“Why are you avoiding me? Did I say something at the Christmas party?” Elio guessed but Milo shook his head.
“Did we talk at the Christmas party?” He had spent most of the evening hiding in Penny’s office, pretending a migraine was coming on.
“No, I did my best not to talk to anyone,” Elio confirmed and shrugged. “I was preparing for a lecture on the Hubble tension crisis and the mood was too bubbly at that party. But that tends to offend people almost as much as if I’d opened my mouth.”
“Right! But your explanation and theory about present-day expansion rate and recession speed was so…perfect.” Milo forgot about Starlight and the party for a moment, excited and slightly starstruck by Elio’s brilliance. “I thought it made so much sense and I had to question my own understanding of the Hubble Constant.” Milo clutched his forehead, laughing as he recalled reading the corresponding paper. “I think I literally kicked myself.”
Elio bowed his head, grinning. There was ading!when the elevator stopped and Elio grabbed the door so it would stay open but didn’t move out of the way. “Thank you. I thought your paper on the interplay of metallicity in galaxy evolution was fascinating.”
“You read that?” Milo shielded his face as it grew warm. “I didn’t think anyone would and it wasn’t that good. I’m not a gaseous astrophysicist.”
“I’m relieved to hear it but I found the paper insightful.”
It took Milo a moment to realize that Elio had made a fart joke and an awkward giggle burst from him. “I worked with a gassy gaseous astrophysicist once. He was both noxious and obnoxious,” Milo said, making Elio snort.
“Most of them are old windbags in my experience. You’re sure you haven’t been avoiding me? I’ve been at Starlight for a week and I went in…almost every day and you were nowhere to be found. I moved here and was sure we would cross paths but we never seem to.”
