Page 7 of N8
She pressed down on the bar and pushed it open as requested. Light from the corridor seeped a few feet into the vast space, but it was enough to guide him toward her.
“I’ve thought about your offer,” she hastily informed him when he appeared in sight.
His face perked up into a smile. “Oh? So I take it the answer is yes?”
For some reason, she felt like playing coy with him. Why, she had no idea. Maybe it was because of his tone of voice, that not-quite-serious tone that told her he was comfortable enough being with her to tease her.
“What makes you think it’s yes?”
“Because if it was no, I don’t think you’d take the time to track me down to tell me,” he quipped in return.
Cydney dropped her gaze to stare at her hands clasped in front of her. “Okay. It’s yes, but…”
His greenish-brown eyes widened. “Uh-oh. There’s a condition?”
“It’s late. We’re both tired. And if I drink another cup of coffee, I won’t be able to get any sleep tonight.”
“All right. Then ice cream it is!” he announced, and took her by the elbow to escort her to the cafeteria.
The place was practically empty, as it usually was after dinner was over and everyone dispersed to their quarters. A couple of guards and a custodian sat in one corner, having a conversation over their cups. The room smelled of a freshly brewed pot, and she drew in a deep whiff of it.
“Yeah, I love coffee, but sometimes it doesn’t love me, I’m afraid. Three cups is my daily max, or else I get acid reflux.” She glanced sideways at him. “Sorry. Too much information.”
She found she liked the feel of his hand on her arm. It was a strong touch, but not hurtful. Neither could she take her eyes off the sight of his muscles evident through his sweat-soaked t-shirt that clung to him. In the chilly, air-conditioned room, his nipples were visible points in the thin material.
N8 didn’t appear to notice where her attention was focused as he led her over to a table, away from the three men and close to the ice cream dispenser. She took a seat while he took two small bowls from the stack next to the shiny machine.
“Vanilla, chocolate, or both?”
“I like both,” she admitted, earning a quick smile.
“Same here. Okay. Two choco-vanilla swirls coming up!” Balancing the bowls in one hand, he snatched up two spoons from the canister and brought the ice cream to the table.
They both dipped into the confection, and for the next couple of minutes simply enjoyed each other’s silent company. It was N8 who finally spoke.
“I’m going out on a limb here, but I’m assuming you agreed to this date because you’re…unattached?”
His hesitancy in saying the last word was endearing. She started to reply when he interrupted her.
“But if you are sort of seeing another guy, that’s okay. I’ll understand. Plus, it’ll make it clearer to me why you’ve been a bit stand-offish ever since you arrived.”
She noticed he spoke in a hushed voice so the men across the way wouldn’t overhear them. She wanted to tell him the cafeteria wasn’t bugged for sound, only video, but she couldn’t. At the thought, she glanced surreptitiously at the camera in the corner near the ceiling. There were at least four or five of them scattered around the room. Enough to where everybody’s movements could be observed, no matter where they stood, walked, or sat.
“Actually, I’m not attached. I’m not even seeing anyone at the moment. Truthfully, this is the first date I’ve had in almost seven months.”
His eyes widened. In the fluorescent light, their color was more brown than green. And he had those thick, dark lashes that made her envious.
“As for my stand-offishness, as you put it, that’s more of a requirement of the job. It has nothing to do with…me.”
“They told you to keep your distance from me? From us?” he added. She knew he meant the others.
Cydney nodded, spooning more ice cream in her mouth.
“Why? Do they think we might catch something from you? Or you from us?” His inquiry was made lightly, but it had serious overtones. Before she could respond, he added, “I’m pretty sure you’ve been indoctrinated about our, umm, specialties. What the other guys can do isn’t a disease. It isn’t catching. At least, not that we’ve ever been made aware of.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s nothing like that. It’s one of many of their stupid protocols. We’re expected to keep all communication and interaction with you strictly on a professional level.”
“So why did you decide to go against orders?” he questioned. Sooner or later, she knew he’d ask.
