Page 55 of CHOICE Lover
“You’re really into my freckles,” she teases loudly enough that he can hear through the pod’s glass and hoping it causes him to blink first.
He must not know the game because he doesn’t hesitate as he rolls his eyes. “Are you just blurting out all your thoughts now? Is that something people did during your time?”
She can’t help but return the eye roll.
“Should I try it?” He shrugs as if he’s really considering it.
“Yes!” she shouts. Anything to distract her while the program finishes.
“You’re really into snuggling against my chest,” he shouts.
The smile slips from her face. Does that freak him out? Was he only holding her to stop her from crying? And if so, why did it feel so real? So right?
The corner of his mouth tips up, like he’s nervous that he’s said the wrong thing.
“I do, it seems,” she finally says.
His smile blossoms like she’s given him hope. Shit. Did she mean to do that?
“I think that means you like either me, my shirts, or my chest. All three?” he asks, earning him another eye roll. He laughs. “You’re cheating. You can’t roll your eyes twice. You’ve already used that gesture.”
“You’re demented,” she says, and they go back to staring at each other.
His eyes twinkle. The momentary reprieve from her heavier emotions brought on by his teasing is causing disorienting things to happen in her body. Warm, floating sensations she’s pretty sure aren’t a side effect of the healing. She’s fairly certain they’re caused by him.
16 – Warmth and Triumph
Electra
“So, I guess I’m healed?” Electra asks, stepping out of her chamber. Res6 is sitting on a workbench stool he brought over so they could continue their little staring game when his session ended. He was sweet to stick around and stop her from spiraling, because that’s exactly what she would have done if she’d been left alone.
“Yes, Electra, you’re healed. The scanner says your cancer risk is now zero.” He keeps staring as tears bubble up and stream down her cheeks—though this round of staring is less amusement and more deer-in-headlights. “I don’t understand. I thought that would make you happy?”
She fans herself as wave after wave of emotion hits her. She will not die like her mom did. It should be a relief, but it’s overwhelming to know that she had to get hit by a trolley and end up in the futureto stop it from happening. “I am. It’s all so much to process. Can we please leave this place now?”
Res6 eyes her. “Since this is my office, it’s likely not the last time you’ll be here.”
She lifts trembling hands and wipes her eyes. “True, but today, it’s a crime scene. Remember? I need to get out of here.”
Res6 grips her shoulders, pulling her into his chest. God, she’s crying into his chest again. But it feels so good, so safe, that she can’t seem to push him away.
He squeezes her with one arm. His other gently strokes her hair. His care is so warm and inviting that it makes her miss the sanctuary of his bed—
“If we go back to my unit, you aren’t allowed to lock yourself in the bedroom.”
“You can’t read my mind now, can you?” She glares at the chamber she just exited like it’s the bad guy.
He chuckles. “No bed, Electra.”
What else is one supposed to do after enduring a life-threatening situation? Have a party? While she’s extremely grateful to be alive and have her genetic predisposition for disease eliminated, for a moment there, the other shoe felt precariously close to dropping. Realistically, how much trauma can one woman endure? Hasn’t she been through enough for one lifetime? She wants—no,needs—a break. Just a few years, maybe ten or twenty, without a tragedy, thank you very much.
“Electra, the tests show that your hearing is fine, so that must mean you’re ignoring me,” he says.
Apparently, he won’t let her slink back to his bedroom to hide out. “I’m not ignoring you. I’m in my head. Sorry. Do you have a better plan?”
He looks thoughtful for a moment.
“OhGod, please tell me you’re not cooking up another one of your outings.”
