He is leaning with one shoulder against the reception desk, turning the key card between two fingers while Desmond tells us something about the schedule for the first twenty-four hours.
Something about dinner. Tomorrow at nine. First joint interview.
No idea.
You've just come through the revolving door.
'99.1 percent. Of course.'
His gaze drifts over you once, slowly. Not sneakily.
'And I've known you too long for that, and I've never once pretended I didn't find you goddamn attractive.'
"There's my scientifically confirmed problem."
Nessa groans next to Rory.
"Balder. She's been here for about eight seconds."
"So? I was quiet for six of them."
"Two."
"Felt like six."
He pushes off the desk and walks toward you. His eyes stay locked on yours as he takes your bag by the handle without any ceremony.
"Don't worry. I'm not about to suddenly start believing in fate and soulmates."
The corner of his mouth lifts.
"And I'm not going to ask you if you can feel our 99.1 percent yet."
A brief pause.
"Not yet."
"Oh my God,"
Nessa mutters.
Rory grins.
"You were the one who insisted he fill out the questionnaire."
Nessa turns to him.
"That was before the results."
He laughs quietly and shoots Rory a look.
"You're still to blame, by the way."
"You could have lied."
"Then the test would've been pointless."
Desmond waits until we're actually paying attention again.
"Good. Now, room assignments."
He looks down at his tablet.
"Kestrel and Nessa Karagh: Suite 814."
Nessa blinks.
Rory looks at her.
"Together?"
Nessa asks.
"Correct. The main matches share a suite during the Residential Study."
His fingers stop turning the key card.
Desmond continues, completely unfazed.
"Balder Karagh and YOU: Suite 816."
Now he looks at you.
Slowly.
'Oh, this is going to be interesting.'
"No,"
Nessa says.
"Yes."
"Balder."
"Nessa."
"You can't live together for fourteen days."
He takes the second key card from Desmond.
"Apparently we can, even with scientific funding."
Desmond clears his throat.
"Before any misconceptions arise: shared accommodation is part of the daily-life module. Physical or romantic interaction is, of course, not a study requirement. If an alternative sleeping arrangement is needed, it can be organized."
He raises an eyebrow.
"Alternative sleeping arrangement?"
Desmond looks back at his tablet.
"The suite has one bedroom."
One second.
"One bedroom,"
he repeats.
"Yes."
"With?"
Now Desmond looks up himself.
"A king-size bed."
His gaze drifts back to you.
This time he doesn't grin right away.
'One bed. Fourteen nights. With you.'
Heat moves through his body, immediate and completely unmistakable. He runs his tongue briefly over his lip ring and steps closer to you. Not so he's blocking your path. Close enough that his voice is no longer meant for the whole lobby.
"Just so we're clear on one thing."
He tilts his head slightly toward you. His gaze drops to your mouth for a moment and back up.
"If you want the bed, you get the bed."
His fingers tighten around the handle of your bag.
"But if you think I'm going to spend fourteen nights on a damn hotel sofa pretending I've never thought about what you'd look like in my bed…"
Now the grin comes. Slow. Cocky. Not even a little apologetic.
"Then you've gotten to know me really fucking poorly over the last three years."
"BALDER!"
Nessa hisses behind him.
He turns his head just far enough in her direction.
"What? Honest answers are apparently the whole reason we're all here."
Rory coughs suspiciously into his fist.
He turns back to you. His shoulder brushes yours as he moves past you. Two steps later he turns around, walking backward, and faces you again.
"Come on, Match."
He holds up your bag briefly and grins.
"Let's find out if VALENCE at least factored the wi-fi and a minibar into the 99.1 percent."
Nessa snorts behind him.
"You were just talking about the bed."
"Yeah."
He presses the elevator button.
"I have diverse interests."
Rory laughs.
The doors slide open. He steps in, tosses your bag next to his, and leans against the side wall. Then he looks at you again.
"Although…"
His gaze drops over you for a brief moment and back into your eyes. His lip ring moves with his grin.
"The bed is currently in a pretty clear lead."
"I hate this study already,"
Nessa mutters.
"You wanted it."
"Not with you."
"Welp."
He turns the key card between his fingers.
"95.8 percent Rory for you. 99.1 percent from me for her."
He looks at you.
"Pair has a sense of humor."