Page 59 of Even Robots Die
What did we say earlier? I could be his daughter. He sees me as something akin to a daughter. No eying of his toned abs or how his pecs look like pillows.
No. I need to stay focused. I can’t look like I’m hungry when I just ate. I can’t look like I want to trace any and all the valleys and dips anddivots on his chest and see if my fingers bring me to the tantalizing line of his pajama pants.
“It’s the perfect outfit if I need to shift,” he tells me, his eyes never leaving mine.
“You’re not going to shift as far as I know,” I answer him, glad that I finally found something to focus on other than what is right under my eyes.
“You never know,” he tells me as he gets even closer to me. “But what’s your excuse?”
I look down at myself. I’m in my pajamas too. It’s a large shirt that almost hides the shorts I’m wearing under it. It’s not much, but it’s still covering me much more than Brice is covered.
“Don’t tell me you think my shorts are too short and that I shouldn’t go out like this,” I bite back. “It’s been established for centuries now that I can do whatever I want with my own body. I know you’re old, but you’re not so old that you would forget.”
Brice chuckles.
“You seem to forget that you’re not wearing any shoes either,” he answers me, amused. “I quite like the shorts.”
He adds the last part so low and without making his lips move that I’m not even sure if he really said it or if I dreamed it.
It can’t be true, though.
“I like walking without any shoes on,” I tell him with a shrug. I’m not saying that not to lose face in front of him—okay, maybe a tiny bit, but it’s true nonetheless—I do like to feel the coolness of the stone under my feet when it’s hot outside. Not so much when it’s winter and my feet are already freezing cold, though. But we’re far from winter and the weather has been clement these days, even if the trees are obviously getting their autumnal shades already. It’s mid-September, so it’s kind of expected around here.
“Then we’re all set to go,” Brice answers, and it takes me a second to realize what he means.
He wants to go on awalk with me.
Dear God, why is that man so stubborn?
And why am I, too?
Because, obviously, I’m going to follow through. I said I needed to stretch my legs after all, so I’m going to go walk with him, even if it’s the last thing I want to do right now.
But, if I don’t, he’ll know. He’ll know my only plan was to sneak back into the lab and work until my brain turns silent from exhaustion.
Because that’s the problem when you have my kind of brain. It never stops.
This is why I keep creating. This is why even if I have a lot to do when I’m home, I still have time to work on a new design or on making a better version of what already exists.
Because that thing won’t stop. It never does. So I have to pick between sleepless nights or passing out from exhaustion.
I passed out last night.
Now my brain won’t let me sleep.
And if I don’t get busy with coding or anything remotely related to work, I know my brain will focus on something else.
Like making up stories in my mind.
Like making up stories in my mind, starring Brice.
I know it.
That’s why I needed to go to the lab.
But this sounds even worse, because now I get to spend more time with him and it’s surely going to fuel my mind with more images.
I’m still stuck where I was standing when Brice realizes I didn’t move when he decided his words were enough to state this walk was a thing.
