My fingers flex at my sides—open, close, open, close—four times each.
One-two-three-four. One-two-three-four.
The counting doesn't help.
Nothing helps.
I'm standing in my own home, soaking wet, with an Alpha I just kissed senseless in a rainstorm, surrounded by my ruined letters, and I have absolutely no idea what to do next.
"What do I do?" The words slip out before I can stop them—muttered, confused, directed more at myself than anyone else. "I don't... I've never... what do peopledowhen they bring someone home? Am I supposed to offer him tea? I don't have tea. I have coffee. Do Alphas like coffee? Maybe?—"
"Based on standard social protocols," Ro's voice cuts through the darkness, "offering a beverage is appropriate. However,given the current state of saturation affecting both occupants, I would suggest changing into dry clothing as the immediate priority."
Oh no.
Oh no no no?—
The heat rises to my face so fast I'm surprised steam doesn't start rising from my wet skin.
"Ro!" I hiss, spinning toward the wall where her main processor is housed. "Shh! He's—there's someone—you can't just?—"
"My apologies." Ro doesn't sound apologetic at all. "I did not realize intruder protocols were suspended for romantic encounters."
"It's not—we're not—" I sputter, my face now approximately the same temperature as the surface of the sun. "He's not anintruder, he's?—"
"He's what?"
Sage's voice is warm.
Amused.
I turn slowly, dreading what I'll see—and sure enough, he's standing there with a slight smirk playing at his lips, rain dripping from his pink hair onto my floor, looking entirely too pleased with himself for someone who just witnessed me having a conversation with my wall.
"You have a smart home system," he observes. "That talks."
"She's not asystem," I mutter defensively. "She's Aphrodite. Ro. She's... she's my..."
Friend, I don't say.
Only friend, I don't say.
The only one I can talk to without feeling like I'm going to shatter, I don't say.
"She's helpful," I finish lamely.
His smirk widens.
I grumble something unintelligible and turn away, hugging the ruined letters closer to my chest. Water drips from them onto the floor, forming a puddle around my feet, but I can't bring myself to put them down yet.
"He's an intruder," I inform Ro primly. "So shh."
"Acknowledged. Engaging silence mode for intruder-related activities."
"That's not—that sounds wrong—" I give up, groaning. "I hate you."
"You programmed me during a seventy-two-hour period without sleep. I can only reflect the chaos of my creator."
Sage laughs.
