“Do you believe in God?”
He shrugged. “I think the universe is so vast, so complicated, so…inexplicable…that anything can be possible. Sometimes I wonder if our brains are so underdeveloped that I couldn’t possibly fathom how it works anyway, that our species simply isn’t smart enough so it’s not an option to understand it. There’s like this invisible curtain between us and everything else, and our consciousness can’t pierce it. Sometimes I tell myself to just appreciate Earth’s majesty, its perfection, because it’s such a beautiful place. But…I need more. My dad is the same way, in his own discipline. He wants to save everyone, and it frustrates him when he can’t, because there’s that part of medicine that we simply can’t understand. It’s like we’ve pushed the boundaries of our advancement to the breaking point, because we lack the cognitive ability to go any further. But that doesn’t stop me from trying, from trying to get those answers.”
All I could do was stare because it was such a deep and heavy response, such a beautiful answer. I knew his ambition derived from his desire to help humanity, but that determination ran even deeper, was philosophical in nature. I had no idea what to say, because I’d met a lot of people in my life, but never someone as unique and interesting as Derek Hamilton. He was all man, with those fathomless eyes, thick arms, broad shoulders, and that deep voice that could alert any woman that he was hot without actually seeing him in the flesh. But he was also a boy…with childlike qualities, with a curiosity that couldn’t be sated. He still had dreams, still had a pure outlook on his existence. Not once did he say he wanted to advance the human race for the recognition, fame, awards, or money. He did it for himself…because he needed to know.
He wore an expectant look on his face, like he had to have a response. “What?”
I still didn’t know what to say. I was good at these sorts of things, but now I fumbled, as if he and I just traded places. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met…”
Twenty-Two
Derek
When I walked in the door, it was late.
I set my satchel on the dining table and got a beer out of the fridge. My dinner was there, and since I was starving, I threw it in the microwave then ate it at the table. My eyes looked out the window, admiring the lit-up skyscrapers because the lights were on all times of the night.
This city was never asleep.
I dragged my hand down my face and felt the fatigue in my eyes. Since it had been such a long day, I’d told Emerson I wanted to leave for work an hour later than usual in the morning, just to get that extra rest—for both her and myself.
She’d sat next to me at the workbench, and despite how tired her she was, how her eyes didn’t light up anymore, she was still beautiful to look at it. The light from my workstation hit her perfectly, highlighting the sprinkle of freckles on her cheeks.
You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met…
Her words kept coming back to me, like she was right next to me, saying it again…and again.
You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met…
I knew when a woman wanted me. I had more experience than most other men my age. I had so many notches on my bedpost that I ran out of room, so many names carved into my headboard that they overlapped.
So I knew Emerson didn’t want me that way.
She wasn’t making a move. She wasn’t hitting on me. She was always professional.
But what she felt was affection. I could see it.
She actually liked me.
Women wanted to fuck me. Men wanted to be me. But I’d never been around anyone who got to know me that well, and as a result, really knew me…and liked me. It’d been a really long time since I’d opened myself up, even a crack.
That was exactly why I had to stop this.
I wanted to pull out my laptop and detail every single desire that coursed through my veins, the way I wanted to sit on that couch in my office with her on top of me, taking my dick while dragging her tits against my hard chest.
“Knock it off, man…” I dragged my hand down my face before I took a drink of my beer.
My eyes flicked to my satchel, where my laptop was secured inside.
This shit had to stop. It was wrong—on so many fucking levels.
I should just go out and pick up a girl. All I had to do was go to a club and bring home a woman for a few hours. Better yet, just open the fucking laptop and search the web for the perfect video to jerk off to.