Dating-ish (Knitting in the City #6)

“Yep.”


Matt moved to where I was still sitting on the floor and offered me his hand, saying as he pulled me up, “Do you mind hanging out here for a few minutes?”

It was hard to miss the fact that he still held my hand even though I was now standing, or the fact that his thumb was brushing back and forth over my knuckles.

“Fine with me.” I gave him a teasing smile, since we didn’t actually have plans beyond lunch.

“Thanks.” Before I realized his intent, Matt bent and placed a kiss on my cheek, squeezing my hand before letting it go and saying, “I’ll be right back. And pick a movie.”

I watched him dart out the door, Dr. Merek moving to one side to allow him to pass, then jog down the hall, his sneakers making light squeaking sounds as he went.

I turned, smiling to myself at Matt’s strange behavior, then bent to pick up my papers and laptop, all the while feeling Dr. Merek’s eyes track my movements.

Finally, he said, “What movie do you want to see?”

“The new Harry Potter movie.”

He chuckled lightly. “I’ve seen it seven times already.”

“Big fan?” I grinned.

“No. But my ten-year-old is.”

“Ah.” I nodded. “I sometimes babysit for my friend’s kids and we play the board game while wearing wizard hats, scarves, and wielding wands.”

“They make you do it?”

“Oh, no.” I shook my head vehemently. “I make them do it. I even knit their scarves.”

He barked a laugh, leaning against the doorframe again, his eyes moving over me. “I’m impressed.”

“Don’t be. I knit all the time. It’s an obsession.”

“No. I mean, I’m impressed you’ve managed to get Matt out of the office. He’s here so much, we sometimes joke he should give up his apartment lease.”

“Ha. Is that so?”

“Yes. That’s so.” Dr. Merek’s eyes continued to travel over me thoughtfully. “I guess it’s a good thing you never signed that consent form.”

That made me cock my head to the side. “Why is that?”

“I’m back. What’d I miss?” Matt called from down the hall, jogging until he pulled even with his office.

“Do you run everywhere?” I asked, both incredulous and amused.

“No. Only when checking out the beautiful new GPUs we’re using for training our AI’s deep neural networks. Or, you know, when I get to see you.”

That earned him a smile. “You’re sweet.”

He returned my smile with a bright one of his own. “I speak only truths.”

Unable to stop myself from scrutinizing this new version of Matt—and the earlier handholding, and the earlier kiss on the cheek—I couldn’t understand the origin of his sudden demonstrative affection for me.

Maybe it’s just a part of his inherent playfulness?

Dr. Merek glanced at the linoleum, looking like he was hiding a smile and stepping back from the door. “Okay, have a good time, kids.”

I wrinkled my nose at the word kids, but stepped forward to give him a departing wave. “If you let me know what Hogwarts house your ten-year-old is in, I can make a scarf.”

Dr. Merek’s gaze moved from me to where Matt stood at my side, then back to me. “I’ll let Matt know so he can pass it on.”

We both watched the tall man depart, Matt eventually nudging my shoulder with his, drawing my attention.

“You’re going to make me go see the new Harry Potter movie, aren’t you?”

“That’s right.” I nodded once.

He glowered.

“And then after, I’ll make you coconut shrimp.”

He grinned.



“Real-time images, like video game graphics, rely on GPUs that perform certain types of mathematical calculations—for example, matrix multiplications—”

“Ah yes, good old matrix multiplications. Here, let me.” I selected a deep-red button-down dress shirt on a hanger and held it up to Matt’s chest. It looked very nice. Verra, verra nice. I added it to our stack.

Meanwhile, he continued with barely a pause. “For example, matrix multiplications, they can handle huge amounts of computations in parallel. The same features are suitable for different applications, like running climate simulations or modeling attributes of complex biomolecular structures.”

I sighed, gazing at him with a smile, my brain and other key parts of me completely aroused by Matt saying the words, complex biomolecular structures.

Believe it or not, Matt had invited me out on a Tuesday afternoon to clothes shop. Apparently, his chairperson had suggested—less than subtly—that many professors in the engineering department had been confused regarding Matt’s tenure status.

They thought he was an undergrad student.

Presently, we were in the Hugo Boss store and I’d made the glorious mistake of asking him what a NVIDIA chip was, the item he was so eager to see when he left me briefly with Dr. Merek. Apparently, I couldn’t have asked a better question. His eyes widened excitedly and, like every time he spoke about his work, he stood straighter, exuding seductive confidence with his deep, thorough knowledge.

“GPUs are recognized as proficient at training deep neural networks, the mathematical structures roughly modeled on the human brain.” His grin became massive and he leaned close, as though about to share something truly amazing. “They also rely heavily on repeated parallel matrix calculations.”

“Get out!” I said. “That’s awesome.”

He nodded. “I know.” He then touched my nose lightly with his index finger. “You are super cute when you pretend you know what I’m talking about.”

That made me laugh and I shook my head at him. “And you are super cute when you talk about your computery witchcraft. How many white dress shirts do you have?”

“Um, one. And now you know what it’s like for me all the time.” He glanced around the store as though we were within the interior of a prison.

“Meaning?” I’d picked up this peculiarity of speech he had. Instead of asking, What do you mean? He would frequently just say, Meaning?

“Over the course of my adulthood—and childhood, for that matter—everyday conversations frequently sound like Greek.”

That had me wrinkling my nose at him. “What are you talking about? You have no problem communicating with me.”

One of the sales associates approached us. “Hi there, are you finding everything you need?”

Her gaze moved over Matt appreciatively and then to me, her eyebrows hitching on her forehead; if I was reading her expression correctly, it communicated, Your boyfriend is hot.

“Marie?” he deferred, clearly oblivious to the pretty woman’s appreciation.

“I think so, but could you start a room for him?”

“No problem.” She reached forward to grab our current selections. Actually, they were my selections. Matt hadn’t touched anything but me since we’d entered, shoving his hands in his pockets.