Page 74 of CHOICE Lover
“You going to get up today, brother?” The body double pats his shoulder through the blankets.
“The tablet told me about MSP’s best comfort food, so I ordered us all the best things,” Chryl chimes. “How about some yummy faux-tater tot hotdish or roasted sweet corn?”
“I’m not hungry. Go away,” he grumbles, even as his stomach protests.
“If you don’t eat your meal, you won’t get any Gel-Oh salad!” she says.
One of them tugs the blanket hard enough that it slips down. When his eyes blink open, he’s face-to-face with Chryl’s bright, unsettling smile.
“Hi there, handsome!” She fishes out his arms and drags him forward, so he’s forced to sit up. The body double is sitting in the chair staring at him, having obeyed his command to go away. Chryl’s defiant attempt to pry him out of bed is another indicator that something is off about her.
“Hi Chryl,” he mutters, swinging his legs off the edge of the bed. He misses his bedroom with its dark walls and soothing art. The stark white of the four walls surrounding him makes the space feel like a seclusion room . . . or maybe that’s his mental state.
“Too much time in bed can promote negative thoughts, worsen health, disturb sleep, and cause physical decline and isolation. Inactivity may harm both a patient’s mental and physical well-being,” Chryl says, scrambling off the bed and collecting a package. She opens it and hands him a takeout container. “Tommy said you weren’t listening to his messages, so he told me to tell you the repairman will be here soon.”
“Repairman?” he asks.
“For the malfunctioning dress, silly! Remember the lie you told Prototype so she wouldn’t discover our supersecret in the closet?!” Chryl claps excitedly as he forces down the food. “Tommy got us tickets! We’re going to the ball!”
He groans. Things are really getting out of hand.
Half an hour later, he’s successfully extricated himself from bed, showered, and is stationed at his desk getting caught up on the hundreds of messages in his inbox. Electra’s desk sits empty, though it is still early. The doorbell rings. He answers, noting Electra’s head pop out of her room a few moments later.
He lets in a technician carrying a small kit and wearing a gray onesie with a nametag that reads Trent. Beneath it are the words Tower A Electric. He scans the room, landing on Electra. He nods like he’s ticking off a box and says, “I’m here to repair the dress.”
His cheeks heat. This was Tommy’s brilliant idea? Send a tower maintenance man?
Electra steps into the room, coming to stand beside him. She shoots a skeptical look at the man, pointing to the logo. “You’re the dress repairman?”
He clears histhroat. “Side gig.”
Chryl whips her hand in a circle above her head. “I’m going to be a cowgirl!”
“Yes, for the fantasy ball we’re going to tomorrow,” Res6 agrees.
There’s no stopping his descent into the purgatory he’s landed himself in. But on the off chance Electra will believe this charade, maybe he could gain back a smidgeon of normalcy. “Ready to fix the dress?”
The man lifts his toolkit in solidarity. “I’ll havethe dressfixed right away.”
Res6 forces a smile. “Great. Right through here.” He grabs Chryl’s elbow. “Show him the dress. I need to talk to Electra for a minute.”
Chryl winks, which Electra won’t think anything of because . . . Chryl. “Sure thing, Daddy!”
When the door clicks shut, he braces himself. “I’ve had a rough couple of days—please don’t be mad at me.”
Her eyes narrow. “About your brother?”
His insides light up. Finally, something he doesn’t have to lie about. “Yes.”
It’s magical how her features transform from anger to sympathy. “Is that why I haven’t seen you for two days?”
“Yes, I’m sorry.” It’s true. Zorg, telling her the truth feels so good. After this little bout of lies related to bringing back Jerme, he’s never lying to her again. “Come here.”
She lets him pull her into an embrace, and it’s the best feeling ever. After the last two days, he really needs comfort—shit. This is what she wanted from him that first week. But they were strangers then. Things are different now; something has grown between them. Something inevitable, at least on his side. That’s why his instincts were screaming to keep a distance between them. But now, he has the same feeling he did after the robbery when he knew she was safe—he’s never letting her go.
When she finally pulls away, he says, “I should probably go check on Chryl and the technician.”
Once he’s safely on the other side of the door, he sags with relief against the wall. She doesn’t hate him. It’s a miracle from Zephyr herself! If the reasons for not lying weren’t abundantly clear before, the last two days he spent wallowing without her in bed have made them undeniably obvious now.
