“Did you sleep well?” he asked.
“I did. You?” she asked, then realized she didn’t even know if he needed sleep, or just twenty-eight minutes of recharging time.
“Yes,” he said. “Would you like anything? Coffee? A massage? An inspiring poem to start your day?”
“I’m good, thank you,” she said, sitting up in bed. Rob’sunflagging enthusiasm felt a little much to be confronted with the moment she woke up.
“I suggest we go for a run. If you want to hit your fitness goals, we should get in another five K either this morning or tomorrow.”
Chloe did not want to go for a run. She was hungover, which meant she wanted to doomscroll and do the crossword on her phone. But Rob was already dressed in running clothes and moved across the room to pick up her trainers. “You won’t regret it. Endorphins are the best cure for an excess of alcohol.”
“I’m a bit tired,” she said, searching for an excuse.
“But you just said you were well rested,” Rob said, his face a picture of puzzled innocence. “And that you want to get fit.”
He had her there. She had said she wanted to get fit, and if you wanted to get fit, you had to go for a run, even when you didn’t want to.
“Fine,” she said, forcing her legs out of bed.
Her limbs felt leaden, her head thick. She stayed sitting on the side of the bed, not quite ready to stand. The conversation with Sean clung to her, awkward and disappointing. And then John—his harsh words had left a different kind of ache, quieter but no less painful. She knew if Rob weren’t here, pushing her to get up, she might stay in bed all morning, curled under the covers.
“Would now be a good opportunity to do a check-in?” Rob asked, pulling her back to the present.
“A check-in?” she asked, looking up at him in confusion.
“To see how you’re feeling about us,” he said. “Did I perform as you wanted me to last night? It is helpful for me to receive feedback.”
She smiled now, because he sounded so earnest, so sincere.She thought of how effortlessly he’d fitted in at the party, how charmed everyone had been. With him beside her, parts of last night had actually been fun: catching up with lovely Thea, hearing about Harriet’s jam business. Katie and Mark had wanted to hear all about Kiko and she’d enjoyed showing them photos of baby Elodie. Even intolerable Colin Layton had been almost tolerable.
“Yes, it was great,” she said, “you were great. Thank you.”
He sat down on the bed beside her, then pressed a palm over the device on his wrist. “It’s just that last night, as you were trying to sleep, I sensed some…frustration.” He paused, eyes wide, knowing. She felt her cheeks heat. Could he read her mind? Now she remembered the strange fever dream about John. Or had it been Rob’s body, with John’s face? A robot John? Either way it was extremely confusing—she’d never thought about John that way. “I just wanted to check I’m doing everything right,” Rob said, gently circling a finger on her hand. “That you’re…satisfied.”
“Uh-huh,” she said, and it came out as a squeak. “Let’s go running.” She leaped up, then rummaged through her bag for her sports kit. “You’re right, we need to seize the day, get those endorphins pumping. Let’s go, go, go!”
—
Stepping out of the showeran hour later, she caught her reflection in the mirror and paused at the color in her cheeks, the light in her eyes—she was glowing. Was that just the endorphins? Rob had been right about the run; it had shaken off her hangover, energized her. Not only that, but he’d downloaded a podcast on screenwriting, which they’d listened to on the run. Now she felt virtuousandinspired.
Maybe shecouldbe the kind of person who ran before breakfast and listened to smart, educational podcasts. Maybe Rob was going to help her become the person she was supposed to be. Two weeks ago, the idea of keeping Rob had seemed preposterous, but the more time she spent with him, the less crazy the idea seemed. She liked him. She liked how he made her feel. He was making her life better. Sitting on the closed toilet seat, towel wrapped around her hair, she opened the notes app on her phone and started a list.
Pros and cons of dating a BoiBot
Pros
Incredibly realistic (and attractive)—no one can tell.
Helps me achieve my goals—work/fitness etc.
Good for self-esteem—keeps telling me how great I am.
Romantic—bought me a rose, says poetic things.
Smart / well-read—can talk to him about anything.
Do not have to talk about boring things like football scores or craft beer.
Polite and well-mannered—no burps or farts.
