Release Date: 09.27.19
Relationships aren’t rocket science.
If they were, I might stand a chance of figuring one out.
Saying I’ve had a crush on my best friend’s older brother, Pax, most of my life is like saying the big bang was just an explosion. It’s true, but I’m not sure that quite captures the essence of its true enormity.
I know he’s only hanging out with me because I’m new in town, and getting my PhD doesn’t leave me with much time to make friends. And even if it did, my strength is mathematics, not friend-making. What I don’t understand is why he kissed me…why he seems to want to keep kissing me. I don’t think my advanced physics knowledge is going to help me figure this one out. But I think for once I’m okay with not knowing, as long as Pax and I don’t know together.
He’s still the awkward Nerdlet I remember…he’s also probably the cutest, most tempting man I’ve laid eyes on. I know I should keep my hands off him, but this thing between us is like a force of nature. I want to be his first everything. He says we’re nothing more than atoms crashing into each other. I’m no scientist, but I don’t think either of us are braced for the explosion.
Rocket Science is a stand-alone MM romance featuring an inexperienced nerd, a cocky player, and a satisfying HEA
Pax: How are you feeling this morning? I got the impression you aren’t normally much of a lush.
Elijah: Pretty sure I’m dying
Pax: That’s unfortunate. Try some aspirin and a glass of water, it may turn out to be a miracle cure 😉
Elijah: Ok, I’ll do that once I can move without wanting to puke again
Pax: Where do you live?
Elijah: Near campus, why?
Pax: Because I’m planning to stalk you, and it’ll be a lot easier if I get your address
My stomach gives a little flip at his teasing, my fingers hovering over the keys, my mind desperately trying to come up with something witty to say in return. I’m not delusional. I know my stupid little teenage crush isn’t going to come to anything, but it would be nice to have a friend out here in California. If I could somehow become the kind of person who knows the right things to say, who’s funny and confident, maybe Pax really would want to be my friend. But no matter how hard I wrack my aching brain, I can’t come up with anything funny to say in return, and the longer I wait the more awkward a reply will be. Instead, I just text him my address. Why he wants it, I can’t begin to guess.
It shows that the message was read, but he doesn’t respond, so after a few minutes I close my eyes and let myself fall back asleep.
The sound of my buzzer jolts me out of sleep sometime later. I search my sleep fuzzy brain, trying to remember if I ordered something from Amazon because I can’t imagine anyone other than UPS ringing my bell. Maybe someone else in the building forgot their key and randomly pressed my buzzer hoping I’d let them in. My head falls back onto my pillow, and I sigh tiredly, trying to decide if it’s worth it to get up to see who’s at the door. The buzzer sounds again, and I throw my blankets back and reluctantly get out of bed. I’m sure my hair is sticking up in every possible direction, and I’m not wearing anything aside from my t-shirt from last night and my boxers, but if it is UPS, I can just buzz them in and let them leave whatever it is I forgot that I ordered outside my apartment door until I can put some pants on.
I shuffle to the intercom and press the button.
“Who is it?” I ask.
“Delivery,” a falsetto voice answers, and I scrunch my brow.
“What kind of delivery?”
“You ordered a…companion.” The last word is said in a breathy, suggestive kind of way that has my face heating, even though there’s no one here to have heard it besides me.
“I, uh, I think you have the wrong apartment,” I stammer out.
“Isn’t this Elijah Cummings?” They ask, putting emphasis on my last name in a way that makes it sound untoward. Not like I didn’t get enough jokes about it in middle and high school, I don’t need a prostitute turning it into some sort of suggestive dirty talk.
“Yes, but I didn’t…I’m not…Um…” I don’t want to be rude, clearly this person’s wires got crossed. Maybe there’s another Elijah Cummings in the building, although even without sitting down to calculate the odds of that, I’d bet they’re astronomical.
“Einstein, I’m fucking with you,” Pax says, dropping the falsetto.
“Oh,” I say, my breath whooshing out with relief. I only have a few seconds of relief before I realize that Pax is at my apartment and I’m half naked.
Author K.M. Neuhold is a complete romance junkie, a total sap in every way. She started her journey as an author in new adult, MF romance, but after a chance reading of an MM book she was completely hooked on everything about lovely- and sometimes damaged- men finding their Happily Ever After together. She has a strong passion for writing characters with a lot of heart and soul, and a bit of humor as well. And she fully admits that her OCD tendencies of making sure every side character has a full backstory will likely always lead to every book having a spin-off or series. When she’s not writing she’s a lion tamer, an astronaut, and a superhero…just kidding, she’s likely watching Netflix and snuggling with her husky while her amazing husband brings her coffee.