"Derrick Wellsley?" Esme asked, making sure she'd heard right. "As in the man who plays for the Boston Knights? The tall, dark, and handsome winger that even I'd do if I was remotely interested in men?"

Unable to keep the heat from rising to my cheeks, I took a sip of my iced coffee as I nodded, also casting my eyes around the café to make sure nobody was eavesdropping.

It'd been three days since I'd woken up naked in Derrick's hotel room, early enough that the sun was barely high enough to chase away the darkness. But one ray had met my tired eyes as I rolled over to see the man beside me still dead asleep, his arms tucked underneath his pillow and only a sheet covering the lower half of his body. Knowing it was time to make my exit, I'd looked my fill one last time—how could I not—before slipping out of bed. I'd tiptoed around the room, careful not to wake him as I collected my clothes, threw them on, and used the pen and notepad the hotel provided to scribble a quick note to him before sneaking out.

Maybe it wasn't the most tactful, but I hadn't wanted to draw it out and make things awkward. A clean break had seemed best, especially after I realized that we were, in fact, not on the same flight home.

It was a great night, but that was all it was. One night. There was no use trying to make it into something more.

"Damn." Esme's eyes were wide as she shook her head in amazement. "I can't believe it."

"Honestly, I can't either," I admitted.

I'd had plenty of flashbacks over the last couple of days, almost all of them from the moments before one of the four orgasms Derrick had gifted me. It was honestly a lot for my brain to handle, not being one who frequented all-night sex marathons. Not with my past boyfriends, who were typically once-a-night type guys unless it was a special occasion, and certainly not with strangers. I'd only had one other one-night-stand in my life, during a girls' trip to the Caribbean a few years back, and it certainly hadn't been anything to write home about. But this—Derrick—had been fantastic in bed, and it was a bit of a bummer to realize I wouldn't be getting a repeat. Which was why my best friends were only now learning about it at our weekly Monday morning coffee date. It took time to process.

"And you're sure there's no chance for a repeat?"

I shook my head. "Considering we didn't exchange numbers and I snuck out while he was sleeping, I'm going to go with no."

"Well you're both in Boston, so never say never," Esme quipped. "This city is smaller than people think, so there's always a chance of running into him."

"But it's a pretty small chance," Harper added. She was the third member of our trio, and also happened to be Esme's girlfriend. With her arm slung over the back of Esme's chair, she'd remained silent as I recounted the majority of my sexcapade, but her facial features had certainly shown her surprise and amusement. "If I were in your shoes, I would be more worried about reconnecting with Miles."

I rolled my eyes. "And why is that?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

Since starting my PhD five years ago, Miles and I have shared an office on the Harvard campus, as well as lab space under the same supervising professor. As part of the research team working on the creation of fully-functioning artificial cells, our work frequently put us in close quarters, and while we have slightly different areas of expertise and study, there are times we need the other to share results of our individual experiments to help the other along in their research.

And despite being nothing but friends since we'd met, Harper and Esme couldn't help but point out his 'obvious' crush on me. I, however, knew there was nothing between us. Sure, he'd asked me out after knowing me for a month all those years ago, but after quickly shutting him down—nicely, of course—there hadn't been any hint of him wanting to be anything more. He'd had girlfriends over the years and I'd had boyfriends. We worked together, and a couple times a month we got drinks or takeout when we both stuck around the lab late, but that was it.

Yet my friends didn't want to believe it. That, or they simply liked having something to tease me about.

Harper's irises gleamed with mirth. "Because this is it. You're both set to give your final defense before the end of the term and then you won't be seeing each other unless you purposefully make plans. He won't be able to stay late in the lab to chat with you or schedule experiments on the same day anymore. After all, you're both single, so if he's going to make a move—which I bet he will—it'll be soon."

"Now you're just being dramatic. There's no way that'll happen."

"Especially because she's hung up on a certain hockey stud," Esme cut in, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. "Who, according to Lia here, is pretty hung himself."

Harper snorted out a laugh as I tried to shush her. "Announce that to the world why don't you?" I mumbled before finishing off my drink. "And I'm not hung up on anyone. It was just sex."

"Really good sex, apparently."

"Yeah, but like I said, it was a one-time thing. Even if I had gotten his number, I don't think I'd use it. At least not any time soon." My hands rested atop the table, my drink now pushed to the side as I fidgeted and tapped my nails on the wood. "These next couple months are going to be crucial if I'm going to be ready for my defense, and I can't have anything jeopardizing that."

"We get that, Lia, don't worry," Harper said, reaching across the table to place a hand on mine.

"Yeah," Esme agreed, her mouth curving into a soft smile. "We'll be there in April to watch you kick ass at your defense, but we also don't want you locking yourself in your lab like you did back in first year. Your team knows you work hard, so there's no reason you shouldn't be able to let loose once in a while."

Starting my PhD at twenty-one had been a big deal—both to me and my family. As the adopted daughter of the owners of San Francisco's most authentic Mexican restaurant, I'd been the first of the family to graduate high school, let alone college. Getting accepted into Harvard's esteemed graduate program right out of undergrad had been the chance of a lifetime, and I hadn't wanted to lose my scholarships or end up a disappointment.

Unfortunately, that kind of pressure had prompted me to go overboard—to volunteer for as much lab work as possible, to over enroll in classes, and to spend any free moment with my head in a textbook. The obsession to achieve that quickly began causing problems. Problems I hadn't realized were actually damaging my work until I met Esme, who'd helped me come to my senses and had stuck by my side ever since.

"Trust me, I won't be returning to the dark times any time soon," I said with reassurance. "Besides, with you guys at my back, there's always fun to be had."

"Damn straight."

Chuckling, I checked the time on my phone only to see it was approaching eight thirty, and I had a meeting with my supervising professor at nine. "Speaking of my defense, I should get going. Don't want to be late on my first day back."

"Yeah, we've got to get going too," Harper said. "Did you need a ride, or did you drive today?"

I shook my head as I stood, buttoning up my coat. It was below freezing this morning, so there was no way I was walking if I could help it. "Luckily, my car decided to start, so I'm good."

"You really do need to get a new car," Harper mused.

It wasn't that my 2004 Toyota Corolla was bad, it was just... temperamental. "Maybe in a few months when I know that I have a full-time job."

"You will, don't worry," Esme said encouragingly as we exited the café and were blasted with the chilled winter air. "We're parked around the block, but let us know how your first day back goes, yeah?"

"Will do."

***

"You're teaching the Introduction to Cells and Tissues class to the undergraduates this term, correct? On Tuesdays and Thursdays?"

I nodded as I sat across from Professor Klein in her office, going over my plans for my final term. "Yes. I submitted my course plan to the faculty before Christmas and it was approved, so I'll be ready to go tomorrow."

"Any nerves? Or last-minute things you want to go over?"

"I think I'm good to go, honestly. I mean, it'll definitely be a little nerve-racking knowing the students will be relying on me in such a big capacity, but I'm also excited to get started."

Her head bobbed in approval, she jotted something down on her notepad quickly. "That's good to hear. Especially considering this will be good experience should you still wish to apply for a lecturing spot here after graduation in the spring. Is that still your plan?"

"It is."

"Well then, I wish you the best of luck." The corner of her eyes crinkled with a smile. "But do feel comfortable coming to me if you need guidance when it comes to your students or the examinations."

"I will, thank you."

"Is there anything else we need to go over before you head to the lab?"

I didn't believe there was, as we'd already gone over the schedule for my last class, which I was enrolled in on Friday mornings, and she'd approved my preliminary request for lab time. "I think we're all good, Professor," I said, standing from my seat and collecting my things. "Though I did put in a request at the end of last term for additional equipment and more cell clusters to continue extracting DNA and moving forward with my final round of tests. I was told they were granted, so I'll be doing inventory before starting the write up for my experiment plan."

"Everything should be there," she reaffirmed, "and if you can get a draft on my desk before I leave tonight, we can sit down tomorrow and make sure everything is prepped to go for Wednesday."

"Great."

"Oh, and Lia?" I looked back over my shoulder, having already started to make my exit. "I hope you had a good time with your family over the holidays."

"Thanks, I did, and now I'm ready to get back to work."

And half an hour later, that's exactly what I had done. Donning my lab coat and glasses, I'd tossed my hair into a high ponytail before printing out the list I'd submitted weeks ago, wanting to check everything I needed for the term had been ordered and stocked. And most importantly, that nothing was damaged.

Alone in the lab, I had my headphones in to zero in on the task at hand. I'd already checked the fridges in the back room to confirm all my cells had been stocked and had now moved on to the glassware cupboards. The new microscope slides looked good, as did the few beaker replacements we'd needed, but when I reached up on my tiptoes to pull out the new box of mini test tubes, I felt a tap on my shoulder and jumped.

"Shit," I said, cringing as I heard the clang of glass echo over my music. Pulling my headphones out, I turned to see an apologetic Miles.

"Sorry, Lia," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I thought you could hear me coming, or I wouldn't have snuck up on you."

I sighed, hoping the protective sleeves had done their job and none of the tubes had shattered. "It's fine Miles, don't worry." The embarrassed tinge to his olive skin began to fade when I noticed the messenger bag slung over his shoulder. "You coming back from teaching?"

"Yeah, and I think it went well. Though it was only the first day, so we'll see how the rest of the term goes." A small grin blossomed as he raked his fingers through his black hair. "But enough about me. What about you? How's this term looking for you, and how was your vacation?"

"I start teaching tomorrow, and then besides my one class, I'll be in the lab most of the time," I explained. "And my vacation was good." I cracked a smile. "I only looked at my research twice, if that tells you anything."

"I feel that." A laugh rumbled his chest. "But I'll let you get back to it," he said, gesturing to the test tube box on the counter. Though after a few steps, he turned back around. "Actually, I had one more thing I wanted to talk to you about."

When I saw a spark of hopefulness in his eyes, unease began to creep its way into my chest. With Harper's word still floating in my head, saying if he's going to make a move, it'll be soon, all I could do was hope he wasn't about to make the next four months extremely awkward by asking me out.

"What is it?" I asked, making sure to mark my expression.

"I was thinking we could get together some time over the next week or two—" Oh no. "—and link up with our research." I expelled a slow, relieved breath. "With both our defenses coming up, I thought it'd be useful to swap notes. You know, give each other another set of eyes to point out any inconsistencies or come up questions that might help the other along." He lifted an eyebrow. "So, what do you say?"

"Yeah, that sounds good," I replied. "If you check the lab schedule, I'm free most afternoons, so just let me know when you want to sit down and chat."

"Great, I'll text you," he chirped, backing away as he headed for our office on the other side of the lab.

Leaving me to deal with a possibly broken set of test tubes and half-finished inventory checklist. Back to business indeed.

a/n: this chapter showcases a typical day in Lia's life (obviously), but I bet you guys are interested in seeing a day-in-the-life of Derrick as well... and that's coming up next! But for now, I wanted to share one of the many aesthetics I used to promo this book on social media before posting it (and if you're not following me on twitter/insta - emmaroseszalai - you should!)