Page 65 of CHOICE Lover
He holds on, squeezing. Feeling a little reckless, he says, “Yes, I think I’m discovering a new favorite activity.”
He’s flirting, and he’s not having to pretend she’s a manupartner to do it. But what if she and Jerme hit it off—where will that leave him? He drops her hand as if it might burn him.
Electra approaches the desk, running her freshly manicured fingertips over the smooth glass surface. “I suppose since you already bought it, would it be too intrusive to put it in the corner over there? That way, I can see the particle panes, but it’s out of the way. The bedroom is a little . . .”
“A little what?”
She shakes her head. “No, that’s okay. I can put it in there.”
Stepping behind her to rub comforting strokes over her arms is instinctive. It pleases him that she doesn’t back away, which should trigger alarm bells. Instead, it has him thinking,What if she’s for me and not Jerme?What if I could get her to like me?He banishes the dangerous thought, but he can’t seem to peel his hands off her armsor stop the words that tumble out of his mouth.“At first, having you in my space felt like an invasion.” She frowns half-heartedly over her shoulder. “Now that I’m getting used to a real woman wrecking my carefully planned routine and peaceful lifestyle”—she spins, glaring up at him—“I find having you here is surprisingly unintrusive. You can put the desk wherever you like. We can shift the sofa to give you more space.”
As she looks away, the little muscle in her jaw flexes. She’s probably feeling guilty again.
Zorg, has he really made it that bad for her? No wonder she said she wouldn’t date him. “If we put the desk in that room, you’ll stay in there all the time. It’s too isolating. I’m surprised I’m the one having to point that out.”
Her lips quivers. “Are you faking it again, Res6? Pretending to care when you really don’t.”
Being with her like this is too intense. He’s never been good at this type of thing, and if this conversation continues, the fact that he’s way out of his depth is going to show. This is the side of the twin divide that he got the lesser portion of. He needs Jerme back. His brother would know exactly what to say to reassure her. That’s why she belongs with Jerme and not him. His brother would keep her happy.
He forces a chuckle. “I’m pretty sure this awful twisting sensation in my chest is genuine concern for your well-being.”
“Really?” She beams up at him. The force of it nearly knocks him over. All he can do is nod like a fool. “Thank you.” Then before he can defend himself, she throws her arms around his neck, drawing him into an embrace that steals his breath. “Hug me back,” she whispers.
Leaning down, he wraps his arms around her middle. They stay that way with their bodies flush for a painful eternity that he never wants to end. Some primordial part of his brain is screaming,Not for Jerme, for me. He might as well beat on his chest like one of her alienheroes.
A part of him realizes they’re stuck together, wading through uncharted territory. She’s acclimating him to her as much as he’s trying to acclimate her to his world. He keeps accidentally flirting with her. Then there’s how she stared at him like she wanted to tear the towel off his hips. At first, it made him feel like the “sex god” she claims everyone thinks he is, but when she just stood there, he worried he had said the wrong thing and retreated to his room. If she were a manupartner, he would have no problem leaning down and whispering all the naughty things he wants to do to her against her neck. But she’s a real woman, so his confidence when it comes to these delicate matters has evaporated, it seems. Really, what type of sex god admits they haven’t taken a lover in years? Still, despite his missteps, they’re bound to form some sort of misguided attachment.
Her arms loosen, and he takes it as a signal to release her. He does, taking a steadying breath. “Come on. Help me move the desk.”
An hour later, they have her corner of the living room arranged. The screens are illuminated, and he’s helped her program a temporary user until they can replace it with an ID.
“Most of the applications are here.” He moves the cursor to the top of the center screen. A toolbar pops up. “Open Scrawl,” he commands. The system responds by opening the word processing program. “You can find the documents you created on the tablet here.” He clicks on a master file. “There are lessons on how to use this here.” He opens another file. “These,” he points to an audio headset and the keyboard he specially ordered, “will connect automatically.”
Electra takes a seat and presses a few experimental keys. She watches excitedly as letters appear across the screen. “Not to beat a dead horse, but thank you, Res6. This really means a lot to me.”
“Why would I beat a dead horse?” He realizes too late it’s some type of saying from her time. “Never mind. I guess I should leave you to get started. Those alien romances aren’t going to write themselves.”She’s half distracted, not listening to him. “I’m thinking of rereading a certain scene fromDevoured by the Alien Duke. I’m curious how your alien species just so happens to have compatible equipment for mating human women.”
She drags her attention away from the screen, turning it on him. “They just do. Don’t think about it too hard. It’s fiction. It’s meant to be enjoyable.”
“It certainly is. I bet Jerme will love them. He’ll want to know all about how you came up with the characters. Between the two of us, he’s the more creative one.” He grins. Speaking of, he should probably go check on the first real Jerme trial. Lextr was right to push to use the organic samples. The specimen in his closet has progressed further in the process than any other without showing failure markers.
“Your brother,” Electra says, giving him a quizzical look. “You said I’ll get to meet him?”
He grins. “Yes. Hopefully soon.”
As he walks away, she asks, “How will I get to meet him, Res6?”
Slowly, he turns, swallowing a lump as he sees her arresting gaze. “What do you mean? He’s coming here to MSP.” He didn’t mean to lie to her. Yet, explaining everything will be so much easier when Jerme is sitting beside him to smooth things over.
She stands, and the way she slowly approaches him makes his stomach pinch with anxiety. She can’t possibly know.
“I think it’s time for me to call in our bargain.” Her lips press into a concerned line.
He steps back, but she takes another ominous step forward. His stomach dips violently. He needs to sit down. When her expression turns sympathetic, he knows for certain what’s coming. “Actually, there’s something I need to take care of real quick.” He turns to flee to the spare room.
“Res6, I know Jermedied.”
Her words scorch him like a breath of unprocessed air. He should have never brought up Jerme. He’s getting too comfortable. “He didn’t.” Why did he say that?
