Following the Rules (The Script Club 1) - Page 8

I chuckled. “Dude, so am I. Let’s head this way. I need to put on some clothes.”

He moved behind me down the short hallway to the main living area. Now this was where most people dropped their jaws and gaped in wonder at the stunning view of the Pacific beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. Sunlight glittered like diamonds on the waves. I’d lived here for three years and woke to this view every day I wasn’t on the road. It never failed to impress.

But Chris—excuse me, Topher—didn’t seem particularly impressed. He seemed agitated. He mumbled something about Grendel, Anglo-Saxon construction, and…alliteration? No idea. He set his bag on a barstool and continued pacing from one end of the island to the other.

“Think, think, think. Beowulf is a hero’s tale. I know that much. He defeats Grendel but dies fighting a dragon some fifty years later. Maybe. I’ll have to do some research. Not to worry. I’m very good at research.”

I wasn’t sure he was talking to me, but I gave him a thumbs-up and inclined my head toward my room.

“Make yourself at home. I’ll be right back.”

I stepped sideways and bumped into him on his third lap, dislodging the towel from my waist. It slipped to the floor between us in a whoosh.

Now here’s the thing…I’d spent a good deal of my life in locker rooms, and dropping my towel didn’t register as even slightly embarrassing. Teammates, coaches, physicians, sports reporters…they’d seen it all. However, I wasn’t in a locker room and Topher was my brother’s seemingly very tightly-wound friend. Any moment now, he’d freak out.

On the bright side, he might stop talking about Beowulf.

“Oh, my God. You’re huge.”

I widened my eyes comically and let out a very undignified snort-laugh.

“Well, thanks. I think.” I bent to retrieve the towel and did a double take. “You’re staring at my junk, Christopher.”

“Topher,” he corrected. “And don’t mind me. I’m just doing the math.”

“What math?”

He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, then cleared his throat. “Um…nothing. It’s just a science thing.”

“My dick is a science thing?”

“Everything is a science thing. Even your penis. Did you know that humans may have the largest penis of all primates? Girth-wise, that is. A gorilla’s appendage is just two inches long.”

“You don’t say.” I set the towel on the island and crossed my arms over my chest, leaving said appendage on full display. In the name of science.

Topher adjusted his glasses. “It’s true. The average human male’s genitalia is just over five inches long when erect. Chimpanzees and bonobos are similar in length, but more slender than ours.”

“So a chimpanzee has a pencil dick.”

“Some humans may be on the small side as well.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and glanced away as if to hide his pinkening cheeks. “You’re not.”

My grin was so wide it hurt. “No, I’m not. But how can you tell in my, um…current state?”

He met my gaze and furrowed his brow. “You should put some clothes on. I think this is an inappropriate conversation.”

I chuckled as I wrapped the towel around my waist again. “You think?”

“Well, if you want my honest opinion…the human anatomy is fascinating and quite beautiful. I don’t find it inappropriate, but I’m…”

“A scientist,” I finished for him.

“Exactly.”

“Hmm. I thought you were a space guy like my brother. Or are you more of a biology and physiology guy?”

“My degree is in aerospace engineering…like George. That’s a broad discipline, though. We both study orbital mechanics.”

“Rocket science.”

“Yes, but specifically, we study astrodynamics and the influence of gravity on an artificial craft in orbit.”

I squinted. “Yeah, I’m not smart enough for you, dude. You do know that I’m an undergrad psych major, right?”

“Yes, you mentioned that in your email.”

“Well, I don’t want to bore you to tears, but none of my classes have anything to do with science. Psych of dreams, anthropology, humanities…oh, and calculus. That last one is going to kill me. Fair warning, this whole experiment may be a big waste of time. If my agent can hook me up with a new team, I’ll be back on the field where I belong.”

“Oh, right. You told your date you were looking for a new team.” He twitched uncomfortably, then licked his lips.

“She wasn’t my date. She was…”

“A hookup.”

I sighed. “I guess.”

Topher cocked his head curiously. “It didn’t go well?”

“Not really. Let’s just say I don’t think she was particularly impressed with my anatomy.”

“Oh. Your equipment didn’t work,” he deduced matter-of-factly.

I snickered. I couldn’t help it. His earnest expression was endearingly dorky. “My equipment works just fine, thank you very much.”

“Mmm. Okay.”

“Things didn’t go quite as planned, but she didn’t leave completely dissatisfied…if you know what I mean.”

Topher made that scrunchy face again, twisting his lips comically. “Please don’t continue.”

I grinned. “You crack me up. This might work out after all. Let me get dressed and we can get to work. Help yourself to whatever you want to drink. I have no idea what time it is, but I’m hungry.”

Tags: Lane Hayes The Script Club Romance
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