But the question hangs there, unanswered.
Dog-Jason shifts under the table and gives a soft, almost warning whine.
And I get the weirdest feeling I’m missing something.
Dinner disappears faster than I expect. Maybe because I’m starving, maybe because Jason keeps making these low, involuntary noises every time he tastes something. Little hums. Little groans. Tiny earthquakes under my skin.
By the time we’re done, Reggie has vanished back into the hallway, muttering excitedly about “proper voice modules,” leaving me and Jason alone in the kitchen.
I start cleaning up while Human-Jason labels bottles and jars. With actual Braille.
“You know Braille?” I ask, trying not to sound as awed as I feel.
I hear his shrug, like he just said he knows how to boil water. “Part of the program. We all learn.”
Of course he does. Of course he makes accessibility look effortless. Of course I melt a little.
Dog-Jason whines from beneath the table—a strange, throaty sound that doesn’t match his usual “feed me, mortal” enthusiasm.
“You still sound weird, buddy,” I murmur, bending to feed him a piece of plain chicken. My fingers brush his fur and—okay, that’s new. Coarser? Warmer? More electric?
“Mm,” I frown. “You need a bath. Definitely. You feel… different.”
He lets out another low noise, and he almost sounds offended.
“Don’t look at me like that. Hygiene is love.”
I stand, reach for my wine, and take a sip. The rim bumps against my lip, and the wine dribbles straight down my chin.
“Smooth, Violet,” I mutter, wiping at it with the back of my hand. “Very sophisticated. Truly a masterclass in elegance.”
Jason’s soft laugh warms my neck.
Before I can reach for a napkin to wipe up the rest of the spill, his thumb is there, catching the drop on my skin.
I freeze.
His hand is warm, his touch slow as he wipes the drop from my chin, then, God help me, lets his thumb glide across my bottom lip. Just a brush. Barely a whisper of pressure.
My breath stumbles out of me.
His does too.
He leans closer, the space between us shrinking, folding, collapsing around the heat of him.
I part my lips.
He inhales softly.
His thumb lingers like he’s memorizing the shape of me.
We’re one breath away.
One heartbeat.
One tiny push from…
Dog-Jason barks so loud, my ears ring.
