Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR_
SETTLING IN
Winston grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet in his bedroom and poured himself a generous glass.
He knocked that back, then poured a second.
He put the bottle back but kept his glass with him.
He stared at the charging station that was tucked away in the corner of the room.
The crate Cal had come in folded in on itself to create a smaller, sleeker station that Cal could use to recharge and update his software.
The bit of modern tech in his otherwise antique room stood out, but not in a bad way necessarily.
Winston thought it added a bit of interest to the room.
One thing he couldn’t stand, though, was the awful suit they’d dressed him in. It was nice enough, but it made Calvin look like a fucking butler. And Cal might not care about comfort, if such a thing existed for him, but it sure as hell existed for Winston.
“Cal, come here.” Winston walked over to his large walk-in closet and ushered Calvin inside with him. Winston had suits for when he had to wear them, but mostly he preferred a well-tailored pant and soft sweaters or knit shirts when the weather was too warm for sweaters.
He pulled one of the shirts off the rack. It was a burgundy one that he thought would look especially nice on Calvin. “Here, change into this.”
Calvin loosened his tie and pulled it free before he worked on the buttons of his shirt.
He looked at Winston while he undressed, which didn’t unnerve Winston.
Nothing prepared him for how fucking pretty Calvin was, though.
Winston had survived high school locker rooms and was no stranger to nudity, but Calvin had been built well.
Broad shoulders, a smooth, nearly hairless chest, the illusion of abdominal muscles and the sexy Adonis belt some muscley dudes had going on.
Winston wasn’t one of those muscley dudes, and he definitely wasn’t built like Calvin.
Who, Winston had to remind himself, had actually been built in an elaborate factory somewhere.
Calvin slipped the shirt on and Winston immediately hated it with the navy suit pants he had on. He cleared his throat and turned to grab a pair of comfortable black sleep pants out of a drawer.
“Here, these will be more comfortable than those pants.”
Calvin flicked the button of his pants open, then dragged the zipper down. Winston watched, partially horrified that he was standing there gawking at Calvin as he undressed.
To Winston’s disappointment, and relief, Calvin had come wearing a pair of black boxer briefs.
They did nothing to hide the fact that he was well endowed, but at least they protected Winston’s sanity.
The small shred he had left. Logically, he knew he could order Calvin to strip his clothes off and breakdance naked if he desired, but Winston balked at the idea.
It felt like a violation of trust. Calvin had to trust Winston.
He wasn’t like a real person, who could use their emotions to inform whether or not they wanted to trust someone. Calvin had been programmed to trust.
Once Calvin was dressed, Winston gave him a slow onceover. The burgundy looked good against his complexion. It brought some color to his cheeks, and it looked nice with his soft brown hair. Calvin had the classic, boy-next-door good looks. The strong jawline, the windswept hair. Pouty lips.
“What do you think? Are you comfortable in those clothes?”
To his surprise, Calvin smiled. “The clothes are great. Thank you, Winston.”
If he hadn’t known better, Winston would’ve thought he was talking to a real live person.
It was almost uncanny, the way Winston could have had Calvin do anything, say anything, be anything, and Calvin would do it.
The power was heady and terrifying, and Winston wasn’t sure he liked the idea that he had complete control over someone.
But Calvin wasn’t really a someone. He was an elaborate something. He talked like a normal person would talk because that’s what he’d been programmed to do. He’d been polite about the clothing because that’s what he’d been programmed to do.
“Calvin, what are the limits to what I can ask you to do? Like, are there rules?”
“If commanded, I will carry out any request that doesn’t cause harm. I will perform any number of tasks for you, including sexual gratification, but I won’t do something that will cause harm to myself or others.”
“Good. Good.” Winston cleared his throat and tried not to drown in his own awkwardness.
An uncomfortable silence fell between them, one that stretched on far too long.
Winston didn’t know what to do or say, and he stood there, paralyzed by his indecision.
He wasn’t generally like this, but Calvin’s arrival had thrown him.
Winston’s stomach growled, and Calvin looked down at it. “You’re hungry.”
“Yeah. I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
“I can cook something for you.”
He seemed almost happy when he offered, and Winston didn’t know what to make of that. It unsettled him to know that there was no way Cal was actually happy, but instead the emotion was a carefully programmed series of commands to make it seem to humans that he was happy.
The crinkling of his eyes when he smiled, the way one side of his mouth turned up slightly higher than the other. Calvin’s face wasn’t perfectly symmetrical, which made him seem more real.
“I—thank you. I’d like that.”
“What kind of food do you like?” Cal asked, following Winston down to the kitchen.
“I… uh… I’ll eat almost anything. What can you make?” Winston glanced at Cal in time to see him arch an eyebrow and smirk.
“I can make everything.”
Was Cal… smug? Winston thought.
“I’m not sure what we have.” He stopped in the middle of the kitchen.
Takeout containers littered the counter and shame welled up in Winston for the sad state of cleanliness.
They tried to keep on top of things. They had a cleaning schedule on the fridge and everything, but everyone had class and a million other things going on and, honestly, cleaning wasn’t high on the list of priorities.
Winston watched Cal as he opened and closed each cupboard and drawer. Then the pantry, and finally the fridge and freezer.
“I’ve made a list of things you need. Would you like me to order them?”
Stunned, Winston stared at Cal so long that it forced Cal to repeat his question.
“Would you like me to order the items?”
“Yeah. Yes. Please. Put it on my card.” Winston took his wallet out of his back pocket and handed the credit card to Calvin. Cal glanced at it, front and back, then handed it back to Winston.
“The delivery is scheduled for tomorrow morning at eight.”
“Wow. That’s… what did you order?”
“Several pantry staples such as rice, flour, sugar, pasta. Some fresh fruit and vegetables. The itemized list is in your inbox.”
“My inbox?”
“All robots are programmed with their owner’s contact information upon purchase.”
Lucky entered the kitchen as Cal started, without Winston prompting him, to clean the counters. Lucky looked at Winston and his eyebrows practically disappeared into his hairline they rose so high.
Calvin didn’t acknowledge Lucky’s presence.
“What’s he doing?” Lucky joined Winston at the counter and leaned against it.
“Cleaning,” he answered. “Cooking. Ordering things for the kitchen.”
“Leave it to you to have your shiny new toy in the kitchen making you a sandwich. So innocent. You could have him, like, rob a bank or something.”
“Wrong,” Cal said. “I can’t be commanded to break the law.” He went on with his tasks and ignored Lucky, who gaped at him.
“Holy shit. He’s so cool,” Lucky said to Winston, then he repeated it to Cal. “You’re so cool. Can anyone tell you what to do?”
Lucky vibrated with excitement. He’d always gone through life with the energy of a sugar-high four year old. All gas, no brakes.
To Winston’s immense relief, Calvin said no. He hated to think what might happen to Cal if anyone in the house, or outside it, could tell him what to do.
“Only Winston and people he gives permission to can.”
Winston couldn’t get over how the more Calvin talked, the more real he sounded.
Lucky turned to Winston and batted his eyelashes.
Lucky was one of those people who was impossible to say no to.
He had round blue eyes that he knew how to make work for him.
Even though Winston knew from firsthand experience that Lucky was no innocent, he still managed to get under Winston’s skin and soften his resolve.
“Please, Winnie, I promise I won’t get carried away.”
Winston narrowed his eyes and was about to respond when Calvin spoke.
“Is Winnie your preferred name? I understand that friends sometimes use nicknames as forms of endearment.”
Winston blinked at Calvin and drew a blank for several seconds. “Are you asking if you can call me Winnie?”
“I am asking if that’s your preferred name, yes.”
“It’s not. I prefer Winston.” He folded his arms over his chest and looked at Lucky. “You can tell him what do to, but only sometimes and only if you don’t get carried away. And he has to do what I say first.” Winston felt oddly possessive of Calvin already, and it had only been an hour.
Lucky let out a happy whoop and grinned from ear to ear. It was easy to see how Winston had fallen into bed with Lucky several times over the past few years. Lucky was sweet and gorgeous. He resembled an over-eager puppy more than he did a person sometimes.
“Man. I wanted to make him do something.”
“Well, you can tell him what you want for dinner. I can’t decide, and he was going to cook anyway.”
Lucky’s eyes got larger and rounder, a feat Winston didn’t think possible. “Can he make eggplant parmesan?”
“I can make anything,” Calvin replied. “But we don’t have the ingredients required for that dish. I’ve updated the grocery order.” Calvin turned his attention to Lucky. “Would tomorrow be okay?”
“Tomorrow is fine. Holy shit. He’s going to make me eggplant parmesan.”
“Do you even like it?”
Lucky laughed. “I don’t know. I’ve never had it. I just know that if I eat another pizza I’m going to turn into a pepperoni.”
“What can you make tonight with the ingredients we have on hand?” Winston asked Calvin, who had finished clearing the counters and was now working on unloading the dishwasher.
“I can make chicken and rice with steamed vegetables.”
Lucky grinned at Winston. “It’s better than takeout. Again.”
“Okay,” Winston said. “That sounds nice, Calvin. Thank you.”
Calvin stopped what he was doing and cast a glance over his shoulder at Winston. “You’re welcome.”
Winston’s heart fluttered in his chest. Whoever designed Calvin had given him a devastatingly handsome smile. As far as guilt-induced gifts went, his father had done a lot worse. Maybe having Calvin around wouldn’t be so bad.