“What? No!” I lean back. “She was a genius ahead of her time!”
“Did she ever make mistakes?”
“I…”
“Marie Curie died from giving herself radiation poisoning. You accidentally messed up a mattress. On balance, I think you’re doing pretty well.” He kisses my forehead. “I love your big brain. Some of the ideas in there are going to work out, and some aren’t. That’s okay.”
“How dare you use my own scientific heroes against me!” I burrow into his embrace. It occurs to me that I’m seeking the comfort and safety of his touch the same way Kepler snuggles up to me. Kepler trusts me. I trust Tristan. Tristan accepts me.
For all that to be true, I must be doing something right.
“‘All creative people want to do the unexpected,’” Tristan adds.
“Did you just quote Hedy Lamarr at me?”
“I did.”
I moan into his shirt. “Why is that the hottest thing you’ve ever done?”
“I hate to think I’ve peaked. Come on, let me help you get this mattress outside, and we’ll see about ordering you a new one. You can sleep in my bed tonight.”
I sit back. “That’s not fair. Where will you sleep?”
“In my bed. If you’re okay with that.” His fingertips trace my cheek. “I promise I won’t pressure you to do anything you don’t want to do. Unless you’re uncomfortable with that?”
The back of my neck prickles — not with fear, but with something warm and unfamiliar. Being wanted without being asked for anything in return.
“No. I’m comfortable with that.” And it’s true. I trust him not to take anything I don’t want to give.
Which, now that I think about it, leaves a lot on the table. I like touching Tristan. I like snuggling him.
Plus, I’m a curious person by nature.
“So…” I look up at him, pulse skittering. “This might be a weird question.”
His brows lift, amused and patient. “Min, everything you say is my favorite thing. Hit me.”
God help me.
“I’ve been wondering what your penis tastes like.”
Tristan chokes on absolutely nothing. “I’m—sorry? What?”
Heat floods my face, but I barrel on. “Scientifically speaking, taste varies by diet, hydration, hygiene, pH balance—there are entire biological factors that influence genital flavor profiles. It’s not strange to be curious.”
He stares at me like he’s trying very hard not to pass out. “Profiles.”
“Yes.” I nod, fully committed. “I’ve read that sodium levels can affect it. And overall sweetness. And viscosity.” I pause. “Dopenises have viscosity? I mean the—output does, obviously, but the organ itself—”
“Minerva.” His voice drops an octave. “Sweetheart. I need a second.”
“Oh! Sorry. Am I making you uncomfortable?”
He lets out a strangled laugh. “Uncomfortable isn’t the word I’d use. More like… seconds away from spontaneously combusting.”
I blink. “Is that good?”
“It’s—” He drags a hand over his mouth. “It’s very good. And very hot. And also the most Minerva thing you’ve ever said.”
