Harper tugged at her hair, the delicate pull working to center her ceaselessly frazzled nerves. She watched as Dan pried the tray out of the dummy’s mouth. He stared at it for a moment, tilting it at various angles before thrusting it at Harper.
The look he gave her was so vulnerable, it made her heart stutter. She took the finished product and held it under the station’s fluorescent light. Her eyes traveled over the canyons punctuating the mold, small peaks and deep valleys dancing across in the familiar pattern of anatomy. No air bubbles. No voids. Her heart swelled then exploded in tooth-shaped confetti.
“It’s perfect.” She beamed at him.
“Really?”
Relief flooded Dan’s features, and a lopsided smile broke across his face. He closed the distance between them and enveloped Harper in a hug. She gave a squeak of surprise as his arms wrapped around her. He pulled back to grin even broader down at her. She stared at her hand and wondered how it had made its way to his cheek, framing that ridiculous dimple. Harper couldn’t seem to move it. Dan didn’t seem to mind.
“I’m really proud of you.” She was surprised by how genuinely she meant it.
“Couldn’t have done it without your help.” Their gazes held for a second too long. At the same moment, they felt the familiarity of their closeness collide with the sharp reality of being near-strangers to each other.
Harper cleared her throat, and Dan dropped his hands from around her body. She attempted a casual eye-roll and gave his cheek a gentle, old-lady pat before moving back to her seat, Dan following.
“I would say you’ve officially joined the ranks of the lab goddesses.”
He laughed. “My mom will be so proud. What’s next?”
“We go into the wet lab to pour in the liquid stone, and then let it set. After that, we’ll be good to go.”
“Cool. That sounds like something I can only mess up two or three times instead of twenty.” He swept a hand over the mess they’d created. Harper had the not-so-subtle sense that Dan gained no enjoyment from the process.
“Hush. You’re learning,” Harper scolded before giving him a smile. She turned to organize the chaos at her station and grab the next tools they would need.
“Have you used a high-speed vibrator before?” she asked.
Dan’s head snapped up, and he looked at her skeptically, eyes narrowed.
“That question sounds like a trap…”
Harper blushed at his meaning and gave an involuntary snort of laughter. She rolled her eyes, trying to save face.
“Oh my God, are you twelve? The tabletop vibrator.” She waved her hand toward the adjoining wet lab, her words becoming flustered as his wicked smile grew. “The heavy-duty dental vibrators.”
At this point, he was downright snickering at her. She clapped a hand over her face and made a blind punch for his shoulder in a weird attempt at self-preservation.
“I’m sorry, Harper, are these names supposed to indicate that what popped into my head is somehow wrong?”
Her face flushed a deep crimson, and she peeked at him through her fingers. Dan’s smile grew wider, that gorgeous dimple making another guest appearance. He was so cute it was almost obscene.
“I officially hate you. It gets air bubbles out of stone pourings.” She gave his wheeled lab chair a hefty push with her foot and he started to roll away, laughing. Harper broke out in helpless giggles.
“I’m sorry—I’m sorry! You would think they would come up with names a little less … primed for innuendos,” he said, wheeling back toward her.
“I think to be an innuendo, it has to be subtle. That was anything but.” She turned back to their work, but the smile refused to leave her heated cheeks. “I guess they assume the future doctors of America are a little more mature than that.”
“Guess I’m not cut out for the job.” Something sadder and darker flitted to the surface of his gleaming eyes, but it was gone before Harper could define it—his goofy smile firmly back in place.
They spent the next half hour in the connected wet lab. Harper showed Dan how to mix and set the powdered stone, the finished product coming out nearly perfect with minimal issues along the way. They both shared a moment of delicate pride at what they’d created together. As they were cleaning up, Dan broke the peaceful silence that had fallen between them.
“Do you want to grab some food?”
Harper’s eyes darted up to his. Working together in the lab was one thing. The lab was her domain, her safety net of skill, and a place she rarely felt awkward or nervous. Interacting with Dan in the real world felt infinitely more terrifying.