Page 9 of Researching the Pole

“Mr. P. Our senior year biology. He had that rabbit he swore was male.”

Despite everything, a laugh bubbled up in my chest. “Oh my god. Yes.”

“We came in one morning and there were like six baby rabbits in the cage.” Grant’s voice carried warm amusement. “Mr. P standing there in complete denial, trying to explain it to the class.”

“‘This can sometimes happen in nature,’” I quoted, and Grant laughed beside me.

“‘Spontaneous reproduction is rare but documented in certain mammalian species,’” Grant added in a terrible impression of Mr. P’s squeaky professor voice. “Meanwhile, we’re all sitting there like, ‘Mr. P, you just got the sex wrong.’”

“He never admitted it,” I said. “The whole rest of the semester, he kept insisting it was a scientific anomaly.”

“Peak Mr. P energy.”

Grant shifted slightly, his shoulder pressing more firmly against mine. “You were the only one who wasn’t laughing.”

I turned my head to look at Grant, surprised. “You remember that?”

His eyes met mine in the dim light. “I remember a lot of things about you, Doc.”

My breath caught. The hard-on I’d been trying to ignore came rushing back to my attention.

“Why didn’t you laugh?” He asked, his eyes full of want. Wanting to know?

I cleared my throat. “He was trying his best. I…I knew how it felt to be laughed at. Scientists are human, too.”

His expression became pained. “Oh…Adrien.”

I shrugged, the gesture lost under the covers. “It’s okay. I’m an adult now. All grown up.”

“Yeah. You definitely are. I’m still sorry. We were stupid teens.” He sounded more upset than someone who had barely known me years ago should be.

I realized then that Grant had known exactly what he was doing bringing up Mr. P, making me laugh. He was pulling me out of my spiral. But now it felt like he was going into his own spiral. I was seriously over the feeling of being laughed at but Grant was taking it too seriously.

“How do you know Dr. Webb? It seemed like you both were on comfortable terms.” I asked, wanting to change the topic.

Grant snorted. “Marcus? He’s a horny bastard. We’ve run into each other whenever I’ve been here in the past years. Been trying to get into my pants for years.”

I choked on nothing, sputtering. “What? He’s a very distinguished scientist!”

“So?” Grant’s eyebrow arched. “Are you saying scientists can’t be horny and gay?”

“Wait—he came onto you?”

“Yep.” Grant’s tone was casual, like we were discussing the weather.

Jealousy flared hot and unexpectedly in my chest. “What did you say—” I cut myself off. “Sorry. None of my business.”

In one smooth motion, Grant shifted, rolling onto his side to face me. He propped himself up on his elbow and stared down at me. Our faces were inches apart.

“I said no,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower. “I already have someone in my heart.”

“Oh.”

The single syllable deflated out of me. Of course he did. Of course Grant Reeves had someone waiting for him somewhere. Probably had for years. That’s why he could be so casual about Marcus’s advances, so comfortable in his own skin, so—

“What about you, Doc? A brilliant, rising star like you with movie star looks must have a girlfriend back at home. Is she a scientist too?” Grant’s gaze dropped to my mouth, then slowly traveled back up to meet my eyes.

Movie star looks…?