Ezra (New Carnegie Androids #6)

Chapter 5 #4

“Yeah. He said if I want it, the organization is mine.”

I shake my head. That’s too big of a decision to think about right now. “Anyway, I’m glad you came. Let me take your coat.”

He hesitates, then enters. I shut the door behind him. We stand in silence as he shrugs out of his trench coat for me, which I hang up near the door on a peg. “I’m going to get a drink. Do you want anything?”

He blinks at me. “I can’t drink.”

Now I’m even more flustered than before. I nod. “Right, right.”

I head into the kitchen, muttering, “Smooth, Kat.”

Ezra slowly walks around the living room, taking everything in as I fetch a glass and raid my pantry for something, anything, to drink. I decide on wine. “You surprised me at the precinct.”

“In a bad way?”

I’m feeling a bit like a nervous mess, completely off guard and yet elated he’s here again. I have to remember to pace myself.

“No,”

Ezra answers. “But to formulate my thoughts aloud when they’re about you takes some time.”

He lowers himself onto the sofa as I sit with him, wine bottle in hand.

“You surprised me too, stopping by tonight. So I guess we’re even.”

I pour myself a glass. “At least there’s a bright side.”

“What’s that?”

“My dad meeting you,”

I reply. I try not think about how close we’re sitting, or the electricity coursing between us. I could lie and say it’s one-sided, but the kiss the other night blew that out of the water. Ezra doesn’t look so calm and collected either, gazing through me like he’s trying to read me just as thoroughly.

Can I just yank him into a kiss? No, Kat. Focus. I shrug, taking a long drink of my wine. “It went a lot better than I thought it would go.”

“You expected them to hate me.”

“Hate is a strong word,”

I say quickly. “I thought seeing you might poke at my dad’s old wounds.”

“In regard to my making.”

“That’s right. He’s never forgiven Schroeder for writing him out of every narrative, even though it was Dad who walked away.”

Ezra motions through the air with a finger, like he’s trying to put things in order in his head, lifting a brow. “But you wanted me to meet them?”

“Well, no. I mean, I would have, eventually, if we were seriously involved,”

I admit, taking another drink. “But we’re not. So you don’t have to worry.”

There’s no sting in my voice, but with how Ezra’s body tenses briefly at my words, you’d think I’d just thrown an insult.

“I was never worried about meeting them,”

Ezra replies. After a moment, he seems to unwind with a long, low sigh. “Kat, I don’t like the way we left things.”

“Neither do I, but we’ve been over this. I don’t know if I have it in me to rehash it all again.”

“I’m not here to rehash anything. I’m here to tell you that when it comes to you, all standard procedure, all reason and logic, all programming takes a nose dive out the window.”

“Uh-huh,”

I say cautiously as I set my wine glass on the coffee table. “Say more things like that.”

“I’m not sure what else to say, except I know about the precinct fundraiser, I know you’re behind it, and I know you vouched for me, but it wasn’t just about that, was it? To see me. It’s to help others, serve others, try to get justice for the victims and their families. You have no idea how frustrating that is.”

“How frustrating it is that I’m trying to help people?”

I ask slowly, puzzled.

“Yes,”

Ezra replies, his tone light. “You keep giving me reasons, one after another, that make it impossible not to think about you.”

He’s got my heart beating like a drum. “It’s miserable, isn't it?”

“Excruciating,”

he replies with a dry, lopsided smile.

“I wanted to put my money where my mouth is,”

I reply. “I can talk all I want, but talk just makes me no better than a politician. I’d rather not become one of those. Unless there’s action, what I believe means nothing. I have a lot to prove. To you. To the people who identify as pro-bionic. To normal everyday people that Humanity First isn’t a hive mind of violent killers, like TerraPura.”

“That’s why you want me there with Nolan and the Belmont County fire department.”

“Yes,”

I say. “People have forgotten how to talk. When communication stops, violence spreads.”

“I know,”

Ezra says, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “But I didn’t come here to talk about the charity. I came here to talk about you. About us.”

“I’m listening,”

I say, tentative, not daring to hope.

“This morning, I saw the hurt in your eyes before you walked away. I want you to understand how it feels for me—how difficult it is to tell you no, how different you are. How my systems respond to you,”

Ezra says, gazing at me. “You want the truth?”

“Obviously, I do. I always did.”

“Then here it is.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “I think about you all the time. I want to talk to you, get to know you, be around you. The other night, every system in my body ached to see you again. I browsed through your PhotoGram just to see your face, and I saw the comments from men complimenting you, drooling over you. I shouldn’t care. I tried to imagine you entertaining any of them, going out on dates, forgetting about me. It twisted my circuits up so bad I had to calm down and do a reboot.”

“Wait, are you serious?”

My jaw slackens a little. “A reboot?”

He looks somewhere between embarrassed and resolute. “That’s what I’m telling you. You affect my programming with one word, one look. To think of you being with anyone else...I can’t stand it.”

My face could probably heat the entire apartment complex at this point, but I do what I can to remember to breathe.

“I’m not with anybody,”

I reassure him. “You know that, right?”

“I know. But that knowledge did nothing to soothe my circuits at the time.”

It’s cute he’s a little of the jealous type. With every word, he’s banishing any and all doubts I had about the way he felt. I look up at him. “Ezra, you’ve been something out of a fairy tale from the moment I set eyes on you, before your activation. And you’ve challenged me since the moment I really met you. I needed it. More than needed it—I’ve wanted it this entire time, and I’ve never been able to really find it until now.”

Ezra regards me quietly a moment before he rises from the sofa and heads to the long windows. Windows seem to be his favorite thinking spot for as little time as I’ve known him. He folds his arms, then turns to me. “I’ve never had much luck when it comes to romance. Women before you don’t understand me, or the confines of my job. When I look back on them, they were hook-ups. Nothing more. The more I think about it, I think being with me was more of an experiment.”

I hesitate. “I hope I’ve never made you feel that way.”

“No. You haven’t. You are different from all the rest,”

he insists. “I’m looking for something too. More than all of that. Every woman before you liked me well enough to fuck around with me until they figured out I don’t get a salary. I can’t buy them nice things, or surprise them with flowers. I can’t have my name on a house, or an apartment lease. The novelty of being with me wore off when that sank in. When they realized all they’d get is me, they show their true colors quickly. It’s why I usually break things off. Not them. Fun is all well and good, but I’ve got nothing to offer except myself. I’m not here to play games. Not when I’m going to be around...”

His voice falters, lowering. “For a very long time.”

His voice is soft, filled with a pain I’m not sure I understand. “What do you mean?”

“I’m going to live for a very long time. Longer than what is natural for human beings. I don’t know how long—hundreds of years, maybe more. Do you have any idea what that’s like for me? Knowing Deion, his wife, his children—the only people who truly care about me—will all grow old while I watch and remain the same? It’d be the same for anyone I get involved with. No matter what happens, I will always be alone.”

Immortality. The thought had never even crossed my mind. Even while arguing against androids and bionic ownership, I’d never considered the fact that we’ve essentially created sentient creatures that might break down or require repairs, but they don’t age. Not like we do.

Such a realization is difficult to argue with. Stricken, I try to think of something, anything that I could offer as a solution—even if the solution isn’t me. “Couldn’t you find an android woman for companionship?”

“No,”

he replies. “There are too many factors that could render us incompatible, even if I could find one, as you say.”

“Maybe Deion could help,”

I suggest, even though I don’t want that. Pushing Ezra toward any other woman, bionic or organic, brings me harsh discomfort. Suddenly, I’m combatting a wave of nausea. “If that’s what you really wanted.”

Ezra shakes his head, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Deion has offered many times.”

“Why don’t you let him?”

Ezra’s gaze levels with mine. “Would you want your life partner to be purchased for you? Built for you, to your specifications?”

A shiver of revulsion crawls though my body. I’m reminded of Frankenstein’s bride, and it horrifies me. “No.”

I sigh softly. “No, I wouldn’t.”

This is the rawest we’ve ever been with each other. Talking, taking risks.

“Look, I don’t know what this is,”

I say after a minute, as genuinely as I can. I get up and join him by the window. “I’m not asking for your hand in marriage.”

I give him a little nudge and offer a tentative smile as he glances at me. “And I’m not asking for us to get down and fuck right here and now like animals. I just want to know what makes you tick.”

“A battery, usually,”

he replies dryly.

I give him another nudge for good measure, seeing the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Very funny. You know what I mean.”

“I’ve been wondering about you too,”

he says, turning away from the window and lowering his arms. “I came here that night because I did want to call you. To stop by, make sure you’re doing all right, yes, but more than that. I replay our conversations all the time, Katrina, just to hear your voice. That night when you let me touch you is burned into my drivers. It makes me insane. I’ve not only wanted more moments like that, I’ve craved them. Needed them. Needed you.”

My heart skips and trips over itself. Holy shit.

Ezra clenches his jaw. “But I can’t. Because if I give into this, if I allow myself to experience these things with you, you’re still going to leave. I’m going to be alone, changed, without the person I care for. And that’s not fair to either one of us.”

It’s not fair. He’s right. I’ve no right to ask for anything from him when I’ve made it perfectly clear what my intentions are after I get my doctorate. The moment I polish up an application and get accepted into one of the universities around here, the countdown starts on my time in the states. I’m filled with such yearning after hearing him talk like this, my mind is running away with fantasies that make no sense, wondering if I could sneak him in a suitcase, or spirit him away and be labeled a criminal for stealing from the police department.

Katrina Carson, wanted for grand theft robot. Wouldn’t that be something? Why not run away with Ezra? But I stop myself before my delusions of grandeur get too large.

“I know.”

I brush his arm with my hand, trying to focus on reality. “But I’m not going anywhere for a while. It’ll take me a good six years to complete my doctorate. Maybe we could just see what happens.”

“What do you mean?”

His gaze flits over me.

I shrug, toying with the cuff of his sleeve. “Take some time to think about it, and if you’re still thinking about me tomorrow, pick me up.”

“And do what, exactly?”

“Have you never been on a date?”

I ask. His lack of response takes me off guard. “Oh. Oh, wow. You really haven’t?”

That surprises the hell out of me. When he said he’s tried being with other women, I assumed that meant regular run-of-the-mill dates, or at least dinner before hopping in the sack.

Then again, Ezra can’t eat food or drink anything, so dinner might be an odd choice.

“My previous encounters weren’t of the public variety,”

he replies. “Not many people want to date an android who’s also a detective. They get jumpy. And the chief would love to have a reason to bench me again.”

Me being seen in public with an android could be a scandal waiting to happen. But I’m far too excited at the prospect of being Ezra’s first date. “Tomorrow’s Friday. Maybe we could meet up.”

Ezra is quiet for a moment before sighing. “I can’t. There’s a barbecue at the Washingtons’ tomorrow night. It’s a tradition of theirs, the last barbecue of the year before autumn really sets in and it gets too cold. The entire ACU department will be there. I’m expected.”

He hesitates, gazing at me for a long moment. “You could come.”

“Me? Are you sure that’s allowed? It isn’t fraternizing or something?”

“Normally, yes.”

Ezra nods. “I wouldn’t be able to invite someone under our protection to attend non-official functions, but you’re no longer my responsibility. And even if you were, I’d say we’re past fraternizing.”

A barbecue. With the entire Artificial Crime Unit of the NCPD, the people who’ve had to clean up the messes of Humanity First’s protests when they’ve turned into riots, among other things. They might hate me the moment they hear the name Carson.

I ignore the nervous flutter in my stomach. I wasn’t the one engaging in criminal mischief personally. But to some, that may not matter. Still, I can handle that, right? Except the Washingtons are Ezra’s family, which is terrifying. What if they don’t like me?

It’s a little fast. But something tells me slow isn’t exactly Ezra’s forte, especially if he’s broken things off with women who weren’t serious enough for his liking. I have to remember he isn’t like other men. He isn’t flighty; he doesn’t scare easy.

He’s like me. He knows what he wants.

And he’s met my parents, as awkward as that was. What does it matter if we don’t do things the slow and steady way? Could we have ever hoped to, considering how we met? Ezra’s entire job description is practically a rollercoaster of danger, surviving internal politics and corporate intrigue.

Yeah. Slow isn’t in the cards. Time to throw caution to the wind and dive in.

“Okay, a barbecue. Sounds fun. What should I wear?”

“It’s an informal affair, so nothing fancy,”

Ezra replies. “I’ll pick you up.”

“Do you want to stay a little while?”

I ask. “No funny business or anything. We could just talk?—”

Ezra pulls me close, lips crushing against mine and stealing my very breath from me. When he moves away, his gaze is on me, his lips parted. “If only I could,”

he rasps, as though it’s taking every ounce of restraint to keep himself back. “But I need to return home. The Washingtons are waiting for me.”

I think I may have forgotten how to walk. “You’re going to have to stop kissing me like that before I trip and kill myself.”

“Not possible,”

he replies, touching my face. “I’d never let you fall.”

I believe him.

As I see him out, my feet are light on the ground. There’s hope in Ezra’s face for the briefest moment when he tells me good night.

When he’s gone, I grapple with the dread that I’ll have to be upfront with my parents at some point if this goes anywhere—and the knowledge that if given the chance, I think I might have already made my choice.

My parents might freak out. Humanity First will either disown me or change to accommodate me.

I don’t care.

All I want is to see Ezra again.