Rocket Science

An aerospace engineer and a professional athlete walk into a club…stop me if you’ve heard this one before. Oh, you haven’t? Too absurd to be true you say? I agree. Throw in my terrible social skills and it’s a disaster in the making. Why my current neighbor and former friend Paige thought it would be a good idea to set us up will forever be a mystery. Sure, it would be great to have a life partner, but I’m kind of killing it out here being Miss Independent.

I have an amazing job. I build rocket ships! Okay, yes, they recently have a pesky habit of exploding at lift off, but we’ll get that tiny bug figured out soon. Probably. Who needs sleep anyway?

I work with one of my best friends who set up a profile for me on a dating site. I now have a phone filled with unsolicited pictures of a certain piece of male anatomy which is honestly pretty unsettling.

I have a cat who likes me. Sometimes. Attempted murder is just his love language.

Oh! And I have an entire wardrobe of elastic waistbands. Elastic waistband. I think that one sells itself.

So, things are great, thank you very much. Except now I have a problem. A very muscled, attractive problem. Despite the disaster at the club, Sebastian Kincaid seems determined to bulldoze his way into my life. I don’t understand what his motivations could possibly be and it’s starting to make me a little crazy. Even worse, I can’t seem to get my head and my heart on the same page. I can make this work. As long as he keeps his shirt on and hands to himself.

I mean it’s not exactly rocket science.