Chapter 26
“Hey, beautiful,” James slurs from his languid position on the couch.
“Did you have a good time? Get what you were looking for?” he returns. His eyes drift over her, giving her chills.
In fact, she did not get what she was looking for. But she isn’t about to tell him that. There wasn’t anyone suitable. She’ll have to try again tomorrow night.
He stands from the couch and walks over to her, swaying.
His hand threads into her loose hair, causing her internal alarms to scream, Invader!
while simultaneously plucking at the unsatiated strings of tension vibrating beneath her skin.
He leans in and she can smell the Vine on his breath. Her heartbeats quicken.
“Nothing,” he says, and she can taste his words.
But as quickly as he entered her space, he evaporates. “I hope he was worth it,” he says. His words ring with loss. Then he saunters into his room, shutting them on opposite sides of the door.
K8 stands there, stunned. First of all, she wants to tell him . . . and there are so many ways to end that sentence. Too many. Why does this man stoke her desire and ire at such a fevered pitch? He’s impossible. This is impossible. And how dare he? And what is he implying?
Before she can think better of it, she throws his bedroom door open. James is sitting on the end of his bed with his shirt off and his head in his hands. He looks up, and the blade-sharp pain in his slate eyes spears through her. She steps back as if she’s been struck. “James?” she asks him again.
He only shakes his head. “Bad choice. All my fault,” he mutters, and her heart does a funny thing. It flips and splits at the same time.
“What’s your fault?” she asks, and she can’t help but twirl a lock of hair in her fingers. Because she thinks she knows, but she’d never be so bold as to presume.
“Doesn’t matter. It’s pointless,” he groans.
What’s pointless? she wants to scream, but she bites her tongue in favor of waiting.
“What are we going to do, K8?” James says.
She’s not entirely sure what he is talking about. She, having had several drinks herself, sinks to the floor, tugging her heels off. They stare at each other for a long moment. “Have you found a source for an ID?”
The composure in his face breaks. “No. Oro1 says it’s going to be more difficult, if not impossible. I may always be someone who has to operate on the fringes.”
He looks so dejected. This must really be a blow for his ego. “You’ll figure something out. You’re James Alexander Fletcher, after all,” she reminds him, earning a chuckle.
“What about the lease?” he asks, shaking his head. “I feel like I’m forcing you to put your life on hold to pay my way. I’d rather pay my own way. And we’re running out of time.” She opens her mouth to protest. “None of this is fair to you.”
“I’m fine,” she says. “And it’s okay to accept help when you need it.
That’s what FRIENDS are for. Literally, as in I’m pretty sure it says that in the Project: LEN handbook.
” He’s looking at her as if she’s an alien.
“You’re making funds with the boxing scheme,” she offers, trying to brighten his mood.
“I know, but it isn’t sustainable. That figure you showed me is due every month from now until I die, since buying me outright isn’t an option.
Unless I can somehow detach myself from GROW, but I can’t think of how.
” He leans over his knees, massaging his head like it might make his brain work more efficiently. “I’ll be eternally your burden.”
Had all this been about the lease? She thought he’d been upset that she might have connected with someone else. This sobers her immediately. She can sense her eye contact with him becoming crisper by the minute. “We have time to figure it out before the extension is due.”
“A little under two months,” he says. “Trust me, I’m keeping track.”
The words echo between them.
“I have month four covered, so don’t worry about that,” she reassures him. Granted, she might have to pick up a few extra task orders. Maybe sell a few unused items in her closet.
“Listen, K8, I know this sucks right now. And I promise I will figure this out and pay you back for everything. I’ll think of something.” Under his breath, he says, “I always do.”
Her lower lip quivers, but she doesn’t allow him any access to what lies in the depths of her.
He still doesn’t get it, and it hurts. When she opened the door and saw him looking so dejected, that feeling in her chest ballooned.
She thought he was jealous. Stupid, foolish hope.
Though she wouldn’t tolerate jealousy normally, seeing him like that felt rather nice.
Like she was something he coveted. But he’s gone down a dark spiral about being a burden again.
Money—that’s what he cares about. It’s a good thing to remember. A reminder she really should heed.
When did she become like this? He said she could have anyone she wanted in his time. But she doesn’t have anyone. Not like she wants to anyway.
She wants to scream, Why are you making me feel this way?
Every time she lets her guard down around him, he—but she realizes this is her.
Not him. Sudden clarity strikes her. K8 is invested in this man and it’s making her terrified.
She wanted this. Prayed to the non-deities, Zorg and Zephyr, for this.
Even held out on the manupartner game, hoping against hope.
And now a real human man sits staring at her, wanting her, she thinks.
And she’s paralyzed. The stakes are too high, and it’s making her too vulnerable, so she keeps putting reasons it won’t work between them.
She glances at the exit. This is significantly harder than she imagined.
She’s never considered herself a coward. She could do this.
But even he, the fearless entrepreneur, the business mogul, is avoiding the question of what is between them. Making it about the lease instead. At least that’s what she thinks he’s doing. If she really weren’t a coward, she’d do a better job of analyzing this.
Okay, time to do that. James thinks he’s a burden.
That’s a demon from his past. He’s focusing on his lease, which is probably a natural reaction for someone like him.
He’s also concerned that their situation isn’t fair to her.
He stares at her constantly, like he’s trying to solve her.
He was the only one who could see she was upset at Lessa’s BIG NEWS dinner.
He tried to comfort her, even though he said the wrong thing.
He’s trying to protect her from himself, which means that, to him, she is something worthy of protection.
Does all that somehow mean he’s trying? If so, does that mean he likes her?
She turns her head away from the blank wall and back to him like maybe she’ll find the answers there. Of course, he’s back to staring at her.
“K8, sweetheart.” His expression is sympathetic, his stare piercing, as if he sees her. The real her.
It breaks her. Splits her in two. The nasty P word rears its ugly head again.
Every ounce of dangerous Potential crystallizes before her eyes.
James is beautiful and only starting to realize his humanity.
He’s trying to be a better man. She has a front-row seat to that.
It’s life-giving and humbling and everything she might have asked for.
K8 rubs the ache in her chest, allowing their gazes to connect.
She’s ready to break. Ready to cave and open herself up to him.
Give him something for the beauty of his earnestness.
Open the door and see where things might lead.
Maybe he isn’t only what the articles claim.
Or maybe learning to navigate her world is making him better.
Giving her a reason to like him. The thought steals her breath.
What if she allows herself to like James? To feel more? Despite what she knows about his past. To her, well, to her, he’s an evolving being. Someone with a flawed but breathtaking self-awareness. So much rawer than the men of her time.
This must be what real meat tastes like. Like an animal, she wants to sink her teeth into his flesh and have a taste. Metaphorically, of course. Maybe a little nibble. She is quite tipsy, and she can imagine the salty masculine taste of his skin. K8 wipes the corner of her mouth.
The cool concrete wall against her back steadies her. This isn’t only about sex. She feels things. Her heart sings with them. Emotions that are getting away from her now. She wants to act on these feelings. These desires. Carnal and hungry.
But the bed creaks as James rises to his feet, breaking the moment. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”
Suddenly, there’s a green tinge to his skin. The moment shatters with his abrupt rush to the bathroom. He slams the door in her face. “I’m fine,” he says, but she can hear him retch.
She tries the handle. He’s locked the door. “Go away,” he barks.
She tries not to let it sting. She really does, but as she leaves him to clean up his own mess, she wonders, What if I could like him?