Page 69 of Omega's Fire

The drive to the Torres house takes thirty minutes through suburban streets. It’s a nice neighborhood—tree-lined and well-maintained.

I pull into the driveway of a two-story colonial with neat hedges.

Before I can get out, the front door opens. A woman appears: Leo’s mother, obviously, with the same sharp intelligence in her eyes though her hair is streaked with silver. Behind her, a teenage girl bounces on her toes, trying to see around her mother’s shoulder.

I exit the car and walk up the path, acutely aware of being assessed.

“Mrs. Torres,” I say, extending my hand. “I’m Nash Thorndike.”

“I know who you are.” Her handshake is firm, businesslike. “I saw your apology.”

“Thank you for—”

“Though I notice you’re already backtracking.” she interrupts. “This morning’s interview was interesting.”

“You saw that?”

“Mom, stop interrogating him,” Leo’s voice comes from behind her. He appears in the doorway, looking softer than he did at the studio. He’s wearing a blue sweater brings out his eyes.

“I’m not interrogating anyone,” his mother says mildly. “Just meeting the man who got my son pregnant.”

“Mom!”

The teenage girl laughs. “I’m Fleur,” she announces, squeezing past her mother. “Leo’s told us absolutely nothing about you, which means you must be interesting.”

“We should go or we’ll be late,” Leo says.

“Drive safely,” Mrs Torres says.

“Of course,” I assure her.

Leo hugs his mother briefly, then his sister, before following me to the car. I open the passenger door for him automatically, earning an eye roll.

“I’m pregnant, not invalid,” he says, but there’s no real heat init.

“Humor me,” I reply. “I’m new at this.”

Once we’re both settled and I’m backing out of the driveway, Leo says, “Sorry about my mom. She’s protective. She was really keen for me to say yes to you when we first matched, but we’ve only just reconciled. I think she’s trying to take my side on everything to keep the peace.”

“She should. I’d be more concerned if she wasn’t.” I navigate through the suburban streets.

Leo fidgets with his seatbelt. “What did you say in the interview this morning?”

I glance over at him.

“Meg texted me,” he continues. “She said you were still defending the prime match system.”

“That’s a fair summary.”

Leo snorts. “You’re unbelievable. You apologize for the system one day and defend it the next.”

“I was apologizing to you,” I clarify, as I slow the car and stop at a red light. “And I’m saying biological compatibility exists. Those are different things.”

“Are they though?” Leo shifts in his seat to face me better. “Because it sounds like you’re saying ‘sorry I forced you into my car, but look how well we fit in the seats.’”

“That’s not—” I stop, recognizing the trap. “You’re oversimplifying.”

“And you’re overcomplicating.”

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