I rolled my eyes and laughed. Hunter joined in.
He wanted to be here with me. Why was still a bit of a mystery, but I knew that sending him away—whether I told him who I was or not—was going to hurt him. Not physically, of course. But there was no way he’d understand. Calling him across the country to see me one minute, sending him away the next. He’d think I was playing some kind of cruel joke.
I turned my head and looked out toward the edge of the park, watching as the world below grew smaller. I started telling myself I could spare him that hurt. I could protect him, better than I protected Mom. Together we could make it.
Together was for the best.
“Not bad, huh,” Hunter said, gesturing at the view.
Scattered lamp posts lit the boardwalk, the moon reflected off the ocean. It was all so beautiful, peaceful. The salty breeze wafted over us. Hunter’s fingers lightly squeezed my hand, and I realized he was doing it without thought.
Like we were a couple.
As we reached the top, I wanted to stay here forever, just Hunter and me above the fray, away from all the troubles that plagued me. I found myself wondering if finding Richard Grady was something I needed to do right now. Hunter only had a week with me—maybe the search could wait. We’d still have to go on the road, though. There were too many people trying to track me.
Actually, capture and dismantle me was more like it. If Hunter was with me when I was found by Holland or the VO, I didn’t even want to think about what they might do to him.
“I have a confession, too,” he said, his voice snapping me out of my thoughts.
I turned to face him as the wind ruffled his hair. “Should I be scared?”
“No,” he replied. “Well, maybe a little bit.”
“Okay, go ahead.”
He blew out a nervous breath. “Mila, I really like you.”
An embarrassingly goofy grin started forming on my lips so I quickly tried to cover my mouth with my hand.
“Wait, did you already know?” he said, smiling.
“I had a feeling,” I said.
Too many feelings, in fact.
Always.
“Well, I don’t just say that to every girl I meet,” he said as the Ferris wheel embarked on its second revolution. He paused a beat, and then added, “Only every third one or so.”
I poked him in the ribs, and he fake winced before pulling me closer. “I’m joking. I only say that to girls I travel cross-country for. Which, to date, has only been you,” he whispered, his mouth close to my ear.
I closed my eyes, forgetting how many times we circled, forgetting everything but how close Hunter was. Tonight was special, a memory that was real and that I could call my own. No one would be able to take this moment away from me. Ever.
Another reason why I wasn’t sure I could let him go.
He made me want to live a life I wanted to remember.
My sleep cycle ended at precisely 8 a.m. the next morning. I opened my eyes to Hunter sprawled across his mattress, one hand flung out to the side, the other curled up on the pillow. The blue comforter had long ago been kicked to the floor, and the sheet was bunched up over his chest. He had earbuds in his ears, totally unaware that we needed to remain vigilant and alert to any strange sounds. Unaware that I was a moving target.
Unaware that I wasn’t worthy of his Ferris wheel confession.
He looked so innocent, with his long eyelashes resting on his cheeks. And so very kissable, with his lips softly parted.
The mattress squeaked as I climbed out of my bed, but Hunter still didn’t move. Carefully, I sifted my fingers through his hair, relishing the silken feel of the strands. He breathed deeply, but thankfully didn’t stir.
I knew I shouldn’t be touching him. No, I didn’t deserve to touch him. What I should do was send him home, where he would be safe. My hand wavered hesitantly, before I gave in and traced the curve of his cheek, the rasp of five-o’clock shadow on his jaw.
His eyes flew open, and his hand shot up.
Threat detected: Feint back.
My body started following the android command and then I remembered—this was Hunter. With effort, I forced myself to relax and let him tug my hand over until my palm covered his mouth and I felt his lips press a soft, feather-light kiss to its center.
My other hand braced me, flat against his chest, and beneath it, I felt his heart race. As if momentarily hypnotized, I lowered my head to his, slowly, like the invisible line that connected us together was shortening and I had no choice but to obey its pull. I didn’t know how long I’d been imagining this kiss, and even though I knew deep down doing this was woefully inappropriate of me, I wasn’t able to reel myself in.
He turned his head to the side at the exact same moment the red words flared.
Human threat detected.
A muffled clang of metal came from outside the window.
I stiffened, yanked away, and straightened just as something rapped at our door.
“Housekeeping.”
“Come back later,” I hollered, my face flushing. Even the arrival of the worker couldn’t mask the fact that I’d just been rejected. I walked over to my bag and started packing it, keeping my back to Hunter. I couldn’t meet his eyes. Not now.
“Mila?”
I moved a few things around in my bag, making sure my hands stayed busy. “Mmm-hmm?”
“Turn around and look at me.”
I stopped, hands buried. Then, steeling myself, I turned to face him. “Yes?”
He pushed himself up until he sat on the bed. “Don’t feel weird. I just—you’re clearly going through some things right now. I don’t want to feel like I’m taking advantage of you.”
While I stood there, absorbing his words, he smiled. “There’s no reason to rush into this. We’re cohabitating, you know.”
A wave of relief swept through me—he wasn’t rejecting me, he was just being a gentleman—but I still felt pretty humiliated and ashamed.
Because I was totally taking advantage of him.
“I’m going to run to that internet café and grab us some coffee,” I said, my voice wavering a little.
“Sounds good. I’ll hit the shower while you’re gone.”
Hunter pushed back the covers and stretched his arms overhead, the hem of his shirt lifting and revealing a thin sliver of perfectly cut abs. I felt a surge of heat rush up my neck and averted my gaze, cursing myself inwardly for acting like such a dork. For goodness’ sake—I was an android, not some real teen girl raised in a convent. And they were just muscles. Rectus abdominis, transverse abdominis, obliques—see, I could even name them all, and knew their functions. Everyone had them—no big deal.
I swallowed hard. Yeah, right. Tell that to my stupid traitorous imagination.
Hunter rose and grabbed his duffel from where he’d stashed it under the bed, and carried it toward the bathroom. Then he paused, surrounding me with the sweet-musky scent of sandalwood and soap. “Good morning, by the way.”
“Good morning,” I said, holding