Page 68 of CHOICE Lover
Since Chryl heard Res6 explain Electra to a fan using the wordprototype, Chryl has been calling her that as if it were an insult. She doesn’t bother shutting the door, which Res6 quickly corrects, closing it and handing Electra a glass of the chilly white liquid.
“Does it seem like Chryl thinks she’s competing with me?” she says.
“She is,” Res6 says, simply. “I reviewed her specification sheet. Her prior owner selected jealous.”
“Why would someone choose that?” she asks, and takes a sip.
“Trust me, I’ve seen far weirder trait combinations than Chryl’s.”
Half an hour later, they’re standing in a very crowded bar, getting approached for the fourth time for photographs, which Chryl, thinking it’s what Res6 wants, poses for exuberantly. The rest of the evening carries on like this until, in an interesting twist, a group of total strangers approach Res6 to request his permission to proposition Chryl for sex. Res6 agrees, and a very gleeful Chryl dances off with the group's messenger, who promises to send Chryl back to his unit fully sanitized later that evening.
“Is that normal?” she asks.
He shrugs. “No, but given—”
“The way she was eye-fucking them across the room?”
He chuckles. “Precisely.” Electra’s expression must be one of utter astonishment, because when Res6 turns back to her, he leans forward, sliding his arm around her waist, and whispers. “Jealous they didn’t pick you?”
A laugh bursts from her chest as she swats him away. “Have I told you I hate the future yet?”
He chuckles. “You have mentioned that once or twice.”
She sighs wistfully, taking a sip of her Spiny Spritzer cocktail.
His hand closes around her elbow. “Now that we’re alone, there’s something I want to ask you about.”
Her heart stumbles at his serious tone. Does he have regrets about what he told her earlier, and now he’s going to take back his generosity? Why is that her first thought? She turns to him, unable to mask her startled expression.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, brows furrowing in concern.
“Nothing.” He squeezes her elbow as if to say he doesn’t believe her and she might as well confess now. She struggles to meet his gaze. “If you regret what you told me earlier, that’s fine. You can take back my desk or whatever.”
“Electra,” he urges.
“That’s why I said I needed my own money—”
He shakes her elbow. “I haven’t even said anything. Why are you jumping to conclusions?”
She shakes her head as if it might fling the destructive thoughts from her mind. “Your tone was so serious just then. I guess I panicked.”
He steps closer. Something about the warmth and his proximity soothes her flash of nerves. “You need to stop assuming the worst. I told you, I’ve got this.”I’ve got you, is what she hears. “I didn’t mean to scare you with my tone. I suppose I’m a little out of my element here, but I wanted to ask you if you would go somewhere with me?”
She swallows the lump in her throat. “Sorry, go on.”
“The anniversary of Jerme’s death is in a few days, and I usually go to the site. After our conversation, I thought having you there might be helpful.”
Her eyes feel wide as saucers.
“You know what, now that I’ve said it aloud, it sounds stupid.” He turns to walk away, but she runs after him, jumping into his path.
“Not stupid,” she says. “I’ll go. I’d love to—I mean, I’d be honored.”
He glances down the bridge of his nose at her, and she can tell he’s fighting a wave of emotion.
“Res6, I want to go. That’s what friends do. Thank you for trusting me enough to invite me.”
He doesn’t say another word as he takes her hand, threading their fingers together, which is decidedly not what friends do—but she’s supposed to be a manupartner. Right.
