Last night had felt like falling into a deep well filled with stars. Jess could have stayed in his arms for hours without coming up for air. But right now was not the time to be distracted by constant thoughts of getting into River’s pants.
He straightened. “I brought something for Juno.” Digging into his messenger bag, he pulled out a few sheets of paper. “Some roller coaster stuff I printed off last night.”
Jess took the papers without looking at them, unable to shift her gaze from his face. Her heart was ramping up to a crescendo, but her mind had gone unexpectedly mute.
These small, easy ways of caring: sandwiches, coffee, school pickups, roller coaster research.
Juno’s heart was built to expand. He picked me up at school sort of like a daddy would. She was going to get attached, but if his relationship with Jess didn’t pan out after their experiment, he would be gone. Juno would know abandonment—after every tiny and enormous effort Jess had made to build a lasting, secure world for her.
And Jess couldn’t deny: she would feel the loss, too. She didn’t want him to become indispensable and precious to her. She’d never needed anyone except her tiny circle. She didn’t know if she was even capable of trust-falling backward into anyone else’s arms.
It was unfair after everything he’d done for her in the past twenty-four hours, but fear crawled up inside her like a creeping, strangling vine anyway. “Thank you for doing that,” she managed robotically, lifting the papers.
River frowned, at a loss against her blank tone. “Okay—well, that’s all I’ve got.” He adjusted the strap on his shoulder, brow furrowed in confusion. This morning’s Jess was not the same woman he’d kissed outside of the car last night. “I’ll catch you later.”
He turned, stiffly, and began walking toward the elevator.
Stride, stride, stride.
Something thawed in her. “River.” She heard the way her voice rang down the hall, its odd, desperate pitch. “Wait.”
He turned slowly, expression guarded.
“I’m sorry I’m so—” She approached him, stopping a few feet away as she struggled for the right words. “I’m sorry I’m oddly nonverbal today. I’m really grateful for your help with Juno last night, and I love that you brought me a coffee.”
He stared at her, waiting for the rest.
“It’s just—none of this is part of our contract. I hope you know I know that. I would never want to take advantage.”
If she thought his expression was flat before, she was wrong. Because at this, his mouth straightened, brow went completely smooth. “You’re right,” he said. He stared at his shoes for a clarifying beat, and then smiled stiffly at her. “I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable last night, or today. Let me know if you need anything else.”
He started to turn again, and a clawing desperation rose in her at the sight of him walking away. She wanted him here, she wanted him right fucking here, but that exact feeling was making her want to reach forward and shove him away.
“It’s just that I don’t know what to do with what I’m feeling,” Jess admitted in a burst.
Slowly, River turned back to her and let out a gently bewildered laugh. “Neither of us does.”
“You stand to make so much money,” she said. “How can that not be constantly on my mind? What would I have done if you hadn’t helped with Juno yesterday? But it’s always right here,” she said, urgently tapping her temple with an index finger, “to question whether it’s genuine. It’s one thing if you’re fooling me, it’s another when it’s my kid.”
His brow relaxed. “I’m not here for the stock price, Jess. I’ve said it before. It isn’t about the money.”
“That’s something only people who aren’t worried about money say.”
River sighed, blinking away and then back to her. “Did last night feel like an act to you?” When she didn’t answer, he took a step closer, tone softening. “Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you? The DNADuo can bring us together, but it can’t make us fall for each other. It can’t know your past or mine, or predict what would scare us off, or entice us to be together. All of that is up to us, not the algorithm.”
Jess closed her eyes and reached up, rubbing her hand over her face. Everything he said sounded so logical. But still. She was scared.
She resented her infatuation’s persistent stab into every waking moment. She was attracted to River beyond anything she’d felt before, but it was emotional, too. It was the kind of attraction that sent down roots below the surface.
This new, tender kind of torture made her want him in all aspects of her life. On the pillow next to hers. Across the table at dinner. Holding her hand at the hospital. River was kind, and thoughtful, and vulnerable. He was brilliant and quietly funny. He was everything she ever wanted in a partner, even if she didn’t realize it until he was standing right here, telling her that it was all up to them to try, or not.