He nodded, a little bit wounded, a little bit stern. “Good answer.”
SEVEN
CIPHER
“What doyou think they’re talking about out there?” I asked Gizmo and Wylie, regarding the animated conversation Kitten and Ansel appeared to be having while weeding the garden.
“You know we didn’t build this system just so you can spy on your boyfriend, right?” Wylie said, not bothering to mask the judgement in his tone.
“Definitely not,” Gizmo added, glancing up briefly from where he was soldering a circuit board. The safety goggles he wore made his striking green eyes look even bigger, like a praying mantis.
“I’m not spying, I’m surveilling,” I told them. Still clocking the screen, I plucked up a stray cable with a frayed wire end and used it to get inside my cast and scratch. God, that felt good. This thing was itchy as hell. Meanwhile Ansel and my boyfriend looked awfully cozy as Kitten laughed at something he said. What could possibly be that funny? Did I ever make Kitten laugh like that? Smile, sure, but laugh?
“Do you guys think I’m fun?” I asked the world’s most disinterested duo.
“Fun isn’t the first adjective that comes to mind,” Wylie said.
“Okay, then what is?”
“Pragmatic,” Gizmo said.
“Intimidating,” Wylie added.
I didn’t mind either of those words, but maybe in this new phase of our lives, one where we’d settled down and no longer had to fight tooth and nail for survival, Kitten no longer needed someone who was pragmatic and intimidating.
“You’re still highly relevant,” Gizmo said as if reading my mind. “No matter how many advancements we make, there will always be the need for someone with your skillset.”
He most likely meant my paranoia and disaster-scenario planning abilities, which honestly seemed a dime a dozen these days.
“Do you think he’d rather have someone fun?” I asked, no longer trying to disguise how I really felt. Macon would have teased me ruthlessly and Artemis would have rolled her eyes and told me to get over myself, but Wylie and Gizmo’s workshop was a safe space. Neither of them had any problems giving their honest, unfiltered (sometimes brutal) opinions.
“I think if he wants that, then he’ll go after it, and there’s not much you can do about it,” Gizmo said.
“That’s depressing. Maybe I need to take up gardening. Couples with common interests are more likely to last, aren’t they? I mean look at you two.”
“From what I heard last night, it seems you and Kitten have a lot in common.” Wylie gave me a pointed look from above the rim of his glasses. “Still thinking about moving down the hall?”
Shit, Kittenhadgotten loud last night. “My bad, guys. I try to keep him quiet, but I’ve only got one good hand. And you know he can’t hear all that well.”
“As long as he’s enjoying it too,” Wylie said.
I smiled at the memory of Kitten on top of me, sweaty and gorgeous, curls bouncing every which way, pecs and abs tense ashell while he rode my dick like I was his personal bucking bull. I honestly hadn’t tried to restrain him. He was too hot to contain; he fucking set me on fire.
He hadn’t brought up me bottoming again, but I was keeping it in my back pocket. As soon as my arm healed up. I could only handle one vulnerability at a time. Would fun-loving Ansel be down to bottom? Probably.
“Have you considered changing your entire personality and demeanor to fit with what you think he wants in a partner?” Gizmo asked.
I stared back at him dumbfounded. What the hell?
“He’s joking,” Wylie said with a smirk, “but what you’re doing is unproductive at best, and if you’re not careful, your insecurities will become a self-fulfilling prophecy.”
Brutal.
“Shit, Wylie, when’d you get so fucking wise?” I asked.
“I do a lot of thinking here in our workshop.”
“Big brain,” Gizmo said. “Enormous.”
