“No underwear.” I meant it to be a question, but it’s a statement when it leaves my lips, and the dawning understanding makes me glance at the line of hips in front of me.
Interesting.
I wonder what fabric their suits are. Do they have it specially made? Is there a tailor among their ranks? Is there a store where normal people can go get these? Do they even have normal clothes? Do they go shopping? Are there malls here? Or do they do everything in their version of online? What’s their connection speed like? They can call Earth from the equivalent of a PC, so I would guess it’s good.
Arc’s brows are pinched, and he looks at me like he’s a little lost.
Oh.
“Sorry,” I say quickly, as a million other questions spiral.
“Don’t be.”
But I am. I gather up a few items and even that hurts. “I’m going to need help, I think?”
“Anything you need.” Arc scoops up all of the clothing and turns, watching me. Waiting.
“Bedroom?” I ask, and he nods.
“Just so you know, you’re going to have to tell me things. I can’t read minds, and I’m not great at guessing what people want from me.”
“I’m sorry.” He shuffles the clothes in his arms and then, instead of telling me anything at all, he picks me up.
“That is not talking.”
“I’m not good at it.” He sets me down beside the same bed I woke up in and then tosses my new clothes onto it.
“The best way to learn is to practice.”
Brows pinching even further, he presses his lips together and then looks down at the clothes. “What would you like to wear?”
At least he didn’t just grab at random and start changing me like a doll.
His entire face contorts. “I’m sorry.”
“I get it. I am totally throwing off your routine. Do you… do you want me to call Laurel and get out of here?”
“No.” The word is sharp. A quick sound. Almost a command.
“Okay, then you’re gonna have to get out of there.” I stretch onto my toes and immediately regret it, but follow through to tap his forehead. “And talk to me.”
“I will try to do better.”
“Good.” I look down at the options and grab the blue leggings again. “Are those unicorns?”
Arc pulls a shirt dress from the pile. The pale green fabric is dotted with round unicorns in varying colors, and I love how fat and squishy they look.
But it also looks like pajamas, so I set it aside and snatch up a veritable rainbow of options.
“This should work.” The fluffy sweater and three other layers should make it so I don’t have to walk around in a blanket cocoon anymore. “Now comes the not fun part.”
Peeling off the blankets, I shiver with each lost layer, and Arc’s jaw tics tighter until I think about it.
He very obviously forces himselfnotto react.
“Can you read all of my thoughts?”
“No…” He shakes his head. “Yours are a little…”
