Chapter 12 #2
“I’m not,” he says, instinctively rebuffing what he assumes is an insult. “You’re right. She’s been nothing but kind and positive. I’ve been an asshole.”
“So then, what’s your problem?” Jett leans forward, lowering his voice. “We both know you’ve barely thought of your family, and you’re not pining over some lost lover. I would imagine self-preservation should be no problem for you. What’s holding you back? Don’t you find Kate attractive?”
Of course he finds her attractive. The woman is a fantasy. Not that he will ever admit that, and it isn’t that simple. James shakes his head, ignoring Jett’s question. Damn him for being so perceptive. Should he go to Kate and clean up his own mess? Surely Lessa can handle it.
He needs to talk through this, and he can hardly do that with the subject of his conflicted thoughts.
“The thing is, when I woke up, I thought someone abducted me. Like a sex trafficking thing. Then I found out I died and it was the future. Ironically, the woman who purchased me intended for me to be some sort of in-the-flesh sex doll. It’s repulsive. ”
“So what you’re saying is you’re a prude?” Jett shoots him a challenging look.
James chokes back an agitated laugh. “Hardly. How would you feel if someone brought you back to life only to fulfill their sexual fantasy? Even if it was a beautiful woman. Well, man, in your case.”
“With lovers, I don’t discriminate. And to answer your question, I suppose a part of me would be flattered while another part of me would feel . . .” Jett takes a long moment, as if the word feel is a foreign thought. Then his eyes widen. “I would feel like I was being used.”
James jumps to his feet. “Exactly! I know she never wanted one of those things, but it doesn’t change the reality I found myself in.”
“Despite what you must be going through, you should know that Kate is one of the best people I know. She’s honest and earnest and hopeful.
And she would never take advantage of you.
Even if she wanted to, which I imagine”—Jett’s gaze swipes him up and down—“she does. I think maybe you need to be open to life’s possibilities. ”
“What does that mean?” Life’s possibilities. James scoffs. Does Jett honestly think he’s going to sleep with Kate to save his own ass? Well, he would if it came to that. And if it wasn’t for this weird situation, he’d gladly take her to bed.
Jett only replies with a shrug.
“Kate told me she was the last of her friends to get one of these manupartners.” He isn’t sure why he says it, but he’s been mulling it over in his mind.
Jett laughs. “That’s our Kate, and what makes her so unique.
You should know that relationships that were typical during your time are not common now.
People come together to procreate based on the lottery system, or they might find a partner for a night or two, but long-term couplings don’t happen anymore.
With the manupartners, people can get whatever they want out of a relationship.
And when it no longer meets their needs, they take them to the recycle station.
The organic material gets reprocessed for the next person’s short-term affair, and the cycle repeats. ”
“That sounds awful.” James has never put a high value on human connection, but he’s always assumed he’ll come to a mutually beneficial agreement with a woman.
They would share their lives and build a family together.
And maybe one day an affection between them would develop.
And if not, they both would carry out their duty and find enjoyment on the side like so many people in their circle did.
But the point is, there would be companionship at a minimum. A loyalty not so easily disposed of.
Is this what Kate wanted? Why she held out for so long?
And he’s treated her so poorly. He feels sick at his own behavior, a sentiment entirely foreign to him.
He’s had it all wrong—she didn’t see an opportunity to use him.
She wants a real relationship. As smart as she is, she probably made a connection with how things were during his time and thought there was a chance.
As James walks past the other man, he puts a hand on his shoulder. “Thanks, Jett. I get it now.”
“Do you?” Jett turns to look at him. “Kate isn’t like the rest of us.
She hopes to find something I’m not sure exists anymore.
She’s special, and if you hurt her, I’ll turn you in.
” Jett’s smile, in combination with the black snake scale tattoo wrapping his neck, is a little disturbing.
The threat serves its purpose, and Jett’s protection of his friend reassures James to know the future isn’t completely devoid of connection.
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he knocks on Kate’s door. “Kate, can I come in?”
“NO!” she shouts from the other side.
“Please, Kate. We need to talk. I’m an asshole,” he admits.
He stands there waiting for her reply. Eventually the door swings open and Lessa exits the room, followed by Decci.
Kate sits on the corner of the bed, ringing a handkerchief in her hands.
She looks up at him with the loveliest tearstained eyes.
“You are an asshole. Did anyone in your time even like you? I can’t possibly see how you would have been successful, acting like that all the time. ”
Her words hit him like lashes from a whip. But he swallows them down. He deserves them, after all.
Stepping inside, he closes the door behind him, then crouches at her knees.
He needs to be very careful with what he says.
“There is nothing wrong with you, Kate. And I don’t think you’re pathetic.
I think you are a very kind, intelligent, and beautiful woman, and we are both in a very fucked-up situation, trying to do our best.”
She sniffles. “Then why did you act so repulsed by me?”
“It took me a few days to understand your culture. A manupartner is a foreign concept to me. I didn’t understand why you would want one. Especially with how appealing you are. I thought you could have anyone you wanted. That’s how it would have been during my time.”
She brushes away the residual tears. “Really?”
“Yes. And you’re successful. And quick-witted.” This is where he knew the conversation would inevitably lead. To the admission he still feels uncomfortable about and would prefer to not admit to either of them. “And I’m afraid if I fake flirt with you, I might end up real flirting with you.”
Her wet lashes cling to each other as she blinks. “Would that be so bad?”
He glances away. “It’s just . . .” He hesitates long enough for her bright mind to solve the problem.
“It’s just that I intended you to be a manupartner and that disgusts you, so now that clouds how you see me.” She buries her face in her hands. “I knew it was a bad idea. That’s why I never . . . I never wanted . . .” Her sobs overshadow whatever she is trying to say.
James gets up from his crouch and sits down on the bed next to her, pulling her into his arms. “Hey, don’t cry. I didn’t mean it like that. I understand now. Jett told me about how things are now. I know it’s not what you wanted and how awful this must be for you.”
She jerks back enough to crane her neck to look at him. “You do?”
He nods, unable to keep his hand from wiping the tears off her pink cheeks. “I do.”
There it is again. God, she’s so fucking sweet.
And vulnerable. That urge to get her beneath him bubbles up inside him.
But this time it’s to protect her from the world and give her whatever she desires.
Whether it’s pleasure or friendship. Fuck.
He goes stiff as the thoughts rattle him to his core.
He’s never held a crying woman before. Perhaps this is a normal reaction that will pass once she fixes her makeup. That must be it. He never saw his mother or sister shed a tear. He assumes it happened in private, but they just raised their chins and pressed on.
If that isn’t it, he’s totally screwed. Because he can’t handle her like this. Handle himself being the one who caused it.
They sit there, searching each other’s expressions for long moments. This is why he tried to keep the distance between them. A draw like this is unnatural.
“We should probably go back in there.” Her whispered words are reluctant, as if she senses the charged pull between them and is awed by it, instead of mildly horrified like he is.
Kate pulls out of his arms, standing, but he grabs her wrist before she moves too far away. “I’m going to do it, okay?”
“Do what?” she asks, like she doesn’t already know.
Like he isn’t being vague because he doesn’t want to say it. To spell it out. Because it still feels like a surrender, even with his new understanding. “Flirt with you. And if it becomes real, and I do anything you don’t like or that makes you uncomfortable, tell me. Okay?”
She studies him for a moment. “Okay.” She walks away, keeping her back to him as she says, “Don’t worry. I understand that nothing between us will be real. I won’t get confused.”