Page 17 of CHOICE Lover
Some unknown gravity has him pivoting toward her. She turns to face him as well, and her freckles, considered a genetic defect by modern standards, draw his attention. They’re so lovely, reminding him of the stars that dot the night ceiling in the simulation chamber.
“What?” she says, brushing fingers across her cheek.
“I’m no more of a robot than you are,” he says.
Her lips quirk. “Well, considering I’m one of these resurrected manupartner people, that isn’t as comforting as you think it is.”
He takes a long inhale, releasing it slowly. “Do you feel hungry, Electra?”
“No, I do not,” she says robotically. Her hands shoot up so her arms bend at a ninety-degree angle, and she starts walking around the room stiffly. “Do you feel hungry, Res6?”
A sudden burst of laughter surprises him as he realizes what she’s doing. “Are you making fun of me? That is highly inconsiderate.” Though he should be offended, the teasing evokes a distantly familiar lightness, reminding him of when Jerme was alive. No one has teased him since Jerme.
“Obviously. To answer your question, no, I’m not hungry. I’m not a houseplant you put in a sunny corner and water once a week.”
He groans. What does she expect from him? He really needs to lay out a plan like Tommy suggested. She follows him to the kitchen. He grabs two bottles of Storm Brew from the refrigerator, pops the resealable caps, and hands one to her.
She inspects the blue and gray bottle. Its label displays bubble lettering being blown around by a cyclone. “What’s this?”
“Alcohol. I rarely drink, but—”
“I’m driving you to it?” She grins at her own joke.
“Precisely.”
Her nose wrinkles as she takes a tentative sip. She coughs, smacking her chest with her free hand. “This is bad,” she chokes out.
“It’s an acquired taste. You don’t have to drink it.”
She takes another sip that goes down better. “Don’t worry. I’ll acquire it.”
He walks back to the living room, assuming she’ll follow. She does a moment later, carrying the Storm Brew, a bottle of water, and a box of Crack Tacks. “I’m not hungry. I just can’t drink without eating something. Bothers my stomach.”
She sets everything down on his coffee table and opens the box, lifting it to her face. Her nose wrinkles as she sniffs. There is a part of him that could watch her all day, as unhealthy as that sounds. She’s so unlike the people of his time. Expressive? Flawed? Definitely sarcastic. But she’s funny. Her snappy way of speaking isn’t remotely measured, and she most assuredly needs a Respectful and Considerate Conduct Course at some point. It reminds him of Jerme’s easy demeanor and—
An exaggerated moan slips past her lips. “I don’t know what this flavor is, but I love it.” She hums in delight as she chews.
The sound is mesmerizing.
She finishes the crunchy snack and glances up, catching him staring at her. He lowers his gaze as heat crawls up his neck. A few beats of silence pass. Her brow furrows—shit, he’s staring again. It’s unsettling how his eyes keep gravitating toward her, but what is he expected to do? She’s just so . . . different.Real.
But if he tells everyone they encounter that she’s a prototype, it might just work. The potential publicity, if he considers it from thatangle, is intriguing. Seems that an initial test is in order. Tommy said she needs clothes, so they’ll go on a trial shopping outing. There. Two problems solved. “Since you’re clean,” he says, and she gives him a derisive snort, “and dressed, perhaps we should venture out to find you some clothing so we can begin your acclimation to the world now.”
“I thought you said you were too busy with work.”
He said that, didn’t he? Technically it’s true, considering the copious amount of time he’s spent this week oscillating between what to do with her and the implications of resurrecting his twin. At least he came to a determination about one of his two issues. Now that he’s officially decided to bring Jerme back—or attempt to—he’s eager to get the first trial underway, but one task at a time. Once he has a solid plan for the woman in his unit, he’ll redirect his full focus to his brother’s resurrection. It’s unrealistic to think he’ll succeed on the first try. He considered accelerating the grow time, but that typically yields a higher failure rate. The experiment might carry on for a few weeks; therefore, his Electra problem is more immediate.
He shakes off the thought. “My work can wait. Tommy illuminated the error in my logic.” He gestures toward the door. “Shall we?”
“Not that I’m not thrilled at the opportunity, but shouldn’t I learn a little about the world so I know what to expect before you thrust me out into it?” she asks.
Ah, finally something he has a solution for. He clears his throat authoritatively. He needs to convey that he has everything under control. “No need to worry. I have a plan.” She grins, buoying his resolve. “You can be one hundred percent yourself.”
“What’s the catch?” she asks, narrowing her eyes at him.
“No catch. If anyone notices anything off about you, we’ll say you’re a new manupartner prototype.”See, Electra. I can be a considerate human being.Heawaits her approval.
“Okay . . .” She’s clearly still skeptical. “Sounds too easy. You aren’t afraid of our being caught anymore?”
