I feel validated that I haven’t lost my touch at reading people. I wait for him to say more, but when he doesn’t, I mute my phone and slip it into my bag. People have a bad habit of interrupting. Rochelle especially. And I don’t want to be interrupted.
I watch as Alex readies his equipment. He’s a different person in front of technology. Efficient, quick, dexterous. I can imagine him sitting in front of his screens for hours, the world moving past all around him as he’s zoned in on his work.
“Oh,” Alex says. He looks up from his screen. “Pull up a stool from over there”—he nods toward the kitchenette area. “I imagine you’re interested to see how this is done.”
I am, of course. I work mostly with software; hacking, websites, social media. Hardware is a different capability—one I just might have to get better acquainted with.
I set the stool beside his chair and anchor my boot heels on the lower bar. “How long will this take?”
He links a USB cable to a port in a crude device with cables that looks like a bare-naked computer board. “It’s a prototype that I designed myself,” he says, as if reading my mind. “I don’t like the idea of purchasing this type of hardware from someone.” He adjusts his glasses.
“Like a hacker who could use it to steal your information,” I interject.
“Precisely.” Alex presses a couple of keys on his keyboard and a Dos-simulated page pops up on the screen. “I run everything off the Command Prompt.”
He issues a series of commands, and within seconds, the card reader/writer is fast at work cloning Ericson’s phone onto a chip.
“I’m really impressed.” I watch him insert the chip into a phone. “And I say that rarely.”
He smiles. “Not sure what I’m going to do with the device,” he admits. “I don’t like the idea of selling it to hackers, but not sure who else would be interested in the application.”
Curious. “Then why did you code it to begin with?”
He pauses to look over at me. “There was a question of whether or not it could be done, and I had to answer it.”
He says this like it’s the most obvious thing. I suppose to a scientist, who deals in theories and solutions, maybe it is. Still, there had to be some forethought. It’s possible this is where we differ. I’m just not a believer in action without motive.
Once he has the cloned device ready, we spend a few minutes searching Ericson’s texts. We uncover deleted messages between Ericson and Brewster, and the most recent thread discusses an upcoming underground fighting event.
Tomorrow night.
My head is already fast at work devising a plan—but it’s Alex who speaks up.
“Oh, no,” he says. “I can see your brain spinning, and this, right here, is a bad idea.”
I turn toward him on the stool, my expression resolute. “I didn’t ask for your input. You’re not here to decide what the plan is. You’re only option is whether or not to back out.” I arch an eyebrow. “Are you ready to back out, Alex?”
He releases a tense breath and drives a hand into his hair. He stares ahead, at one of the Regency paintings along the wall. “I’m in,” is all he says.
I study his profile, again wondering just what he’s getting out of this. He claims he wants to liven up his dull life, and yet I’ve learned through my intense study into the human condition that people rarely give the whole truth.
How long ago did he lose his sister? Was it recent? Maybe her death is what triggered his sudden urgency to experience life. Alex’s tip of the iceberg is innocent enough, but what about the mass beneath?
Alex turns to face me, his body leaning in closer to mine…
“You want to fuck me,” I blurt.
I expect him to scoff, or pull an offended expression, or deny my claim. He does none of the above. Instead, Alex meets my unwavering gaze with a challenge in his pale-blues. “That would make this the most insane and desperate attempt to get laid.”
I shrug one shoulder. “I’m not here to judge. But we did meet in a club where you were looking for some action, and you did try to buy me for a night.”
The corner of his mouth hitches into a smirk. “Touché.” He removes his glasses and places them on the desk before he leans in, placing himself mere inches from my face. “What if I am attracted to you, Blakely? Is that really such an unreasonable idea, the two of us together?”
This bold and cocky side of Alex is interesting. I’m not sure if he’s simply trying out a new experiment or testing a theory, but it feels convincing. And I enjoy sex. I imagine I’d enjoy sex with Alex. In the event he makes it through this job unscathed, I’m sure there will be some intense, heated moments that are met with carnal response.
I push in closer to him, so he can feel my breath against his lips. “Don’t disappoint me…and don’t die. Then we’ll see where this goes.”
I brace my foot on his chair, right between his legs. His nostrils flare, those blue eyes darken with desire…right before I give his chair a hard push backward. The chair coasts a couple of feet, and he chuckles. “Cruel,” he says, shaking his head.