a combination of human biology and well-made stilettos, my friend.”
“I can probably think of a few.”
“Just tell me you weren’t contemplating any of them last night.” He yanks a thick book off the stack that’s piled on his side of the table, opening it to a dazzling rendering of the solar system. “Don’t let me down, man. Do not tell me you turned that woman down when she was dressed like that and had eyes only for you.”
I scrub a slow hand down my face. “All right. I’m not telling you that.”
“Thank fuck.” He dips his head and raises his brows. “So?”
I compress my lips. “It’s complicated.”
“Buddy, the stock market is complicated. Rush hour traffic on Pico? Complicated. But recognizing when a stunning woman is into you and doing something about it? Maximus Kane, that’s not complicated. That’s a blessing from the gods.”
As he finishes with a flourish worthy of some profound philosopher, I permit a smile—a small one—to spread across my lips. Kara’s taste still lingers faintly on their surface. I silently pray for the effect to be permanent.
“Well, the gods don’t have to worry about their efforts being wasted,” I finally murmur and then jab a pointed finger across the table. “But that’s all you’re getting about that. End of discussion.”
He pumps his arm like a train conductor sounding a whistle. “Well, because it bears repeating. Thank fuck.”
I won’t get a better opportunity to change the subject. I peer closer at the titles he’s pulled for his own stack of books. All of them are thicker research tomes, so valuable that they can’t be checked out of the library.
“And what’s brought you to the corner of musty and quiet today, Professor North? More importantly, did you leave any astronomy research books for the kids to access?”
“I’m on a mission.” He squares his shoulders. “A mission for some damn answers.” Then looks toward the ceiling. “Anyone listening up there? Answers, please!”
I crunch my brows. “Answers for what?”
“Explaining the star formation that Kell Valari caught on her camera the other night.” His features tighten as he pulls out an enlarged version of the image from Kell’s phone, now printed on photo paper. “I’m going to go ahead and say it. I’m past stumped about this shit.”
“Which must have you wanting to take someone’s head off.”
“Yeah. Mine.” He tosses the photo back down, and it glides a few inches along the tabletop. “But this constellation—if that’s what it is—makes no sense. Not just for the eastern sky at this time of year. For any sky, at any time of year. Damn thing is too big to be a drone, and it doesn’t fit the MO for a plane, even military grade.”
“Well, that sucks.” I don’t need Kara-like perception to feel Jesse’s vexation. Since the day he was parked permanently in that wheelchair, the guy has known his advantage in life would come from his mind. And it’s a brilliant mind. When he doesn’t know something, Jesse is unrelenting in his quest to resolve it.
“Hmm.” He grunts. “Not sure I’d say that.”
“Meaning?”
“That at this point, I almost hope I don’t find a plausible explanation for this thing.”
I narrow my gaze even tighter. “Why?”
“Because then I can pose the theory that this might be a brand-new constellation.”
I halt my finger above the touchpad on my laptop. The spreadsheet I’m working on is just a collection of blue squares right now, but I plan on filling them as quickly as I can get through each script.
“You’re serious,” I finally blurt.
Jesse nods. “Very.”
“How’s that possible?” My grasp of his special field is as truncated as his is of mine, but I know the basics. “There are eighty-eight constellations, right? That hasn’t changed in nearly a hundred years.”
“But that’s what makes science cool, my friend. Making the impossible real.” He scoops up Kell’s photo again and wiggles it in the air. “Getting to find new stars in the sky.”
I return his eager grin with an easy smile. “You’re keeping in mind the other elements in the picture, right? The neighborhoods at the base of that hill? The urban sprawl on the other side of it? What if this is just the result of some kids playing with their flashlights?”
“In the middle of a freak thunderstorm and the downpour that came with it? I doubt it.”
This is typical Jesse. Making the impossible real. His physical limitations have never stopped him from doing anything—but his favorite thing to do is to give me shit.
Like he does now, shooting