Chapter 9
Mia
Somehow, during talking to Nolan in between our bouts of lovemaking, I fell asleep. I don’t remember doing it. But when he gently rouses me with a few sweet kisses to my mouth, cheek, and temple, I open my eyes and see it’s still dark outside.
“Time to go?” I whisper, glancing at him and stealing a kiss.
“Yeah, so the guys don’t notice you.” He helps me gather my clothes, and I get dressed with his assistance. Not that I need it, but he’s so gentle when pulls my dress down over my hips and threads his fingers through my hair. “But I wish you didn’t have to.”
Last night was amazing. It wasn’t even just the sex, it was how much ground we covered.
About me, about him. I’ve never opened up to anyone the way I did to Nolan.
Something about the way he looked at me with those bright white eyes, and all my thoughts, my dreams, my strengths and insecurities came spilling out of me like a dam opened.
Like, what if I don’t have what it takes to do what Jessica does and become a designer myself?
Or what if I try and try and try, and it doesn’t matter—I still don’t make it?
What if I’m just a burden to my family? If not to my parents, then to Apollo and Jess?
I want to make it all up to them, stand on my own two feet, make them simultaneously proud and pay them back for all they’ve done.
Somehow working for Jess just doesn’t seem like enough.
My upbringing didn’t leave a lot of room for vulnerability. I can’t remember ever feeling comfortable opening up to my parents, or even some of my close friends. I even apologized for talking about it.
Nolan never judged me. Not once. In fact, he seemed mystified about my apology. “What are you sorry for?”
“I don’t know. I guess I just feel like I’m talking too much.”
“I like it when you talk. I want to hear everything. Don’t stop.”
So I didn’t. And when it was his turn, I listened as he talked about the thanklessness of his job.
About how even though Apollo and the Weekenders were great, the weekday guys didn’t embrace him quite so willingly.
About the curfews, the limitations when entering certain establishments that either refuse or can’t afford expensive android scanning equipment for safety.
About TerraPura, and that horrible confrontation with the police android.
I wish there was somewhere we could go; somewhere he could always be himself, without hiding his bionic nature. And that’s when something clicks inside me.
Accomplishing my dreams isn’t just about me anymore. It’s also about Nolan.
I can’t say it aloud. I’m too scared, I’m not ready.
But what if everything goes right here? What if I could support us both?
What if I keep working hard and really make it big—big like Kyrone Johnson, the newest billionaire of New Carnegie and the Western world since he founded the Bionic Fighting League, to where I have fuck-you money?
Nolan and I could do anything we wanted, go anywhere.
Big dreams dance in my head. The logical side of me says, Slow down, Mia. Everything might go wrong.
But it could also go very, very right.
Normally I don’t think this in-depth about the future.
I like living in the moment. But Nolan actually has me thinking about it.
Jessica loves her business, but I don’t see myself working for her forever.
But maybe I could be a marketing consultant as I keep working toward my big break into fashion.
I’ll freelance for small businesses to help get them on their feet and flourish, teach them how to combat big businesses for the spotlight.
But when I picture my future, I see a small home.
Not a crazy mansion or a penthouse, but a little condo somewhere warm, in a style that’s mine.
Something with a cozy office for me to work from, maybe a cat.
Marriage and kids like Apollo were never really part of my equation. But I can see Nolan there with me.
I want him in my future.
“Someday,” I tell him as we get ready to sneak out together, pointing at the pole in the corner of the room. “You’re letting me slide down that thing. Deal?”
Nolan laughs softly. “Deal. Come on. This way.”
Like a couple of kids, we sneak through headquarters, and he gets me out the back door.
“Text me,” I whisper, stealing one last kiss.
Which turns into three more kisses. “I will.” I keep stalling and make a little noise of delight when his strong hands wrap around my waist, grazing my ass. “Okay, you really need to go.” He snickers against my lips.
Reluctantly, we pull away from each other. “Bye.”
He smiles and nods at me, his gaze intense with the same longing I feel. “Bye.”
I drive home as the sky begins to change color with the promise of dawn, sore and tired but in the very best way.
I’m grateful I have a day off. When I get back, I avoid Apollo and Jessica’s room, creeping up to mine and collapsing on my bed.
I sleep away hours until I can actually function, which is somewhere around two o’clock in the afternoon.
I check my phone. My message notifications blink at me.
The first is from Jessica.
Hope you had fun. You’ll have to tell me everything later.
It’s followed by laughter and a winky face. I send her a few hearts.
Then I have a message from Nolan that he sent me several hours before.
Good morning, my goddess.
Goddess? A pleasant shiver up my spine unleashes a new cluster of butterflies in my stomach as I respond.
Careful. A girl could get used to talk like that.
Then you’d better get used to it. I have a briefing. Talk soon.
The way I keep checking my phone is the first clue that I’m in serious trouble. I’m addicted. Nolan has a hold on me, and I couldn’t shake him if I wanted to. My every thought, my every feeling is centered on him, and him alone.
I’m glad that he’s able to get time off with enough notice.
But I don’t like that while he’s treated well, he isn’t paid for his work.
Especially when he’s essentially working, on call, three hundred sixty-five days a year.
He risks himself just as much as Apollo and the others.
More than them. Sure, they all take care of him.
They buy him clothes so he can look normal.
They make him feel welcome, like he’s a part of their team. Their family.
But Nolan will never retire. He’ll always be utilized until he’s considered obsolete. Someday, Nolan told me, they’ll probably replace him. And he doesn’t know what he’ll do then. Until that happens, he’ll be working. Working, working, always working. If he were human, it’d be a nightmare.
But Nolan relishes it. He loves it. It gives him purpose.
He seems so happy doing it. But I can’t help but feel like he’s being taken advantage of.
Like humanity took two steps forward, then two hundred steps back.
I wonder if Apollo sees it too. Maybe that’s why he’s so protective of his friend, why he reacted the way he did when I first told him about Nolan and I.
I hope that with me, Nolan can find that relaxation he deserves.
And I would love to be a place of peace for him.
If our relationship continues, I wonder if maybe the chief would be okay with him living outside the fire department once I get my own place.
Or maybe— But no, I couldn’t ask Apollo and Jessica to let him live with us.
That would be too weird, right? It’s something to think about.
My mind is racing. I have so much hope swelling up in my chest that I feel like I might burst, just from the possibilities.
I channel that energy into tidying my room instead, and after showering and dressing, I head downstairs to help Laolao with dinner prep.
Or I try to, anyway. But Laolao is queen of that space, and I get the feeling I’m getting in the way more than helping. So I focus on the kids instead. I distract them, playing hide-and-seek while giving Laolao time to focus on the mouth-watering, earth-shattering, delicious food only she can make.
One thing’s for sure. By the time I get my own place, I’ll have to either beg her or bribe her to teach me her ways, because I can’t go back to sad microwave meals after living here.
I take snapshots of myself with each of the kids, their adorable, innocent little faces the highlight of each photo, and send them off to my parents and Nolan. He responds instantly.
Having fun with their auntie, I see. I’m almost jealous.
An oddly pleasant ache grips my chest, one I’m almost glad that I have now, and wouldn’t want to be without. I can’t wait to see him again.
Don’t be, we’ll see each other again soon, right?
Right. How about this weekend?
Want to catch a movie Friday night?
Absolutely.When?
I check movie times and find one I think we’ll enjoy.
Is 6:30 okay?
I’ll see you then.
That’s a whole week of combatting a whole lot of butterflies, but I can do it.
I distract myself with tickling, chasing, and cleaning up after my brother’s kids for the remainder of the afternoon.
Laolao spends most of her time in the kitchen, given the space and the focus she needs to make fresh batches of xiao long bao, and before long, the delicious scent of her homemade soup dumplings permeate the house.
Life is good. And for once, I feel like it can only get better.
* * *
When Friday finally rolls around, I fuss about what to wear for the better portion of an hour before I decide less is more and pick out an ensemble of jeans, shirt, and a cardigan. It’ll keep me comfortable and conservative enough to where it doesn’t look like I’m trying too hard.
Underneath? Black lace bra and thong—a spicy matching set. Just in case the night moves somewhere else again.