Page 40 of Nolan
“Such a gentleman,” I say as I allow him to guide me to my feet. But then we’re chest to chest, and I can see the hunger in his eyes, mirroring mine.
Go slow, I remind myself. Go slow, go slow, go slow.
His is a face that would make so many women fall in love in an instant. Right now I feel like I’ve been catapulted to the front of that line. If my entire family wasn’t here, if we weren’t in public on family day, surrounded by all ages, I’d lay a real one on him.
Instead, I lean up on my tiptoes and give him a soft peck. One he returns with similar tenderness, and then the moment is over. He seems to understand our situation too and doesn’t question, doesn’t press for more.
An amazing, incredible man.
For the next fifteen minutes, we glide around the rink with the flow of others, smiling and laughing as Apollo and Jessica and even Laolao run in circles around us, left after left after left. Suddenly, an individual on the other side of the rails wave us down.
Nolan squeezes my hand and slows. “What’s the matter?” he asks them.
“You’re Nolan, right?” the man asks tentatively. He was the one who rented us our skates, a pale, happy man with a balding gray head and sagging shoulders beneath his oversized clothes. He seems to be in his retirement years. “The android firefighter?”
Nolan pauses. “Yes, that’s me.”
“I’m real sorry, Nolan,” the man says, his face twisted into something regretful, yet resigned. “But the owners of Electric Edge say that androids can’t be allowed in here anymore. Outta safety precautions, because of that horrible business with the museum. I know you’ve done a lot for this community, and I asked them to reconsider or make an exception, but I—I have to ask you to leave.”
My mouth drops open in shock. “Are you serious?” I ask, on the verge of becoming incensed. “Nolan isn’t TerraPura. He’s a hero, he’s?—”
“I understand,” Nolan says neutrally, like he just flipped a switch. His face reflects nothing. No disappointment. No anger. “I’ll leave the premises.”
“No, wait,” I interject. “Please. We’re not hurting anyone. We’re just skating.”
The man looks heartbroken when he looks at me. “I know. If it were up to me, ma’am, I’d tell them to stick it where the sun don’t shine. But this job here pays for my heart medication, and it’s rough out there trying to find any kind of work. You understand.”
My own heart sinks. I can’t even be angry with him. “Yeah. Yeah, I understand.”
“But I don’t.”
Apollo approaches us, his expression dark, furious. If I didn’t know him better, I’d almost say murderous. He’s pissed. I can tell by how he motions through the air with his hands while little Laurent sticks close by him, his balled fist gripping my brother’s pant leg. “Sir, I understand you’re following protocol. But I want to talk to the owners. Now. If you’ll lead the way?”
The employee doesn’t seem intimidated or reassured by my brother’s stern bravado. Still, he gestures for Apollo to follow him. Apollo glances down at his son and guides him to me. I take his hand gently.
“Watch Laurie,” Apollo instructs me, pointing between Nolan and me. “And skate.”
“But—” Nolan begins.
“I said, skate,” Apollo repeats. “Don’t worry about it. I got this.”
He disappears. Unsure, Nolan and I exchange glances, but then we go around the rink again, slowly, to accommodate Laurent. I want to appreciate how gentle Nolan is when he takes the lead, holding both of Laurent’s hands and making sure to keep us on the edge so we can go at my nephew’s pace. Three rounds later, Apollo reemerges and glides out onto the floor, making his way toward us.
“Thanks, Nolan.” He takes Laurent back.
“Well?” I ask, apprehensive.
“He’s fine,” Apollo says coolly. “Everything’s squared away. Don’t worry about it.”
“Apollo—”
“I mean it, Nolan, don’t sweat it. Just enjoy yourself, okay?”
But I can tell that might be impossible for Nolan now. When we first took the dance floor, he looked relaxed, at ease. Now he’s tense. And I can’t blame him.
Apollo takes Laurent and rolls away to continue enjoying the outing. I slip my hand into Nolan’s and squeeze. “Hey.” I speak just enough to be heard over the music as the disco balls—my niece’s favorite—start going off. “Do you want to get some air?”
Nolan peers at me. “That might be difficult, since I don’t breathe.”
