“She would,” Isabella murmurs.
“Decide what you want to do with your life and do it,” I advise.
“How about for now, I’ll just decide who I want to do,” she whispers.
I grin. “That works for me, but only if I’m the one you want.”
She makes a show of glancing all around. “There’s no one else around. I guess you’ll just have to do.”
“Good,” I say firmly, and I straighten and remove my clothes.
“I can want you, but it not mean sex,” she says dryly.
I flare my nostrils.
Isabella flushes, looking positively delicious with her adorable embarrassment. Normally, sex talk like that doesn’t make her self-conscious, but she also hasn’t shared intimate details about her life before.
This time, we won’t be fucking. We’ll have sex.
Who knows? Maybe one day, if we can get over our hang-ups, we might be able to make love. Until then, I'll take what I can get.
12
Isabella
The way Strol flares his nostrils, I know.
I know he’s falling for me.
And I’ve already fallen for him.
Despite trying desperately to keep him at bay, I’ve failed. My heart has picked him to be the first and potentially only male for me to ever love.
Because I’ve always known that when I would fall in love, it would be for keeps. I’ve gone through so many short-lived relationships that the idea of being with someone long-term equals forever.
I’m terrified. I’ve never once told any of the other guys about my dad. Sharing that intimate detail about my life only highlights the notion that Strol means more to me than any who has come before.
But can I actually give in to those feelings and see where they lead me?
Or should I try to pretend that it’s just sex for as long as I can?
Because even if I do want to be with Strol, that doesn’t mean I can or even that I should. He’s brought up his father, but clearly, there’s something there, something he’s avoiding. And I don’t know what the future would have in store for us. As a Kurian, Strol really should be with a woman who is willing and eager to be a mother, and I don’t know if that’s me. The thought of settling down in a house with a regular job makes me want to break out in hives. I don’t know if I’m cut out for that. But while I’ve enjoyed this bout of living at large, at doing whatever I want, I know it can’t last forever. Eventually, I’ll have to reenter society.
A society that failed my mom.
She had been a war hero, and yes, she managed to get pregnant with me after she had been injured, but as far as I know, no one tried to help her, to heal her. No surgeries had been done to try to fix her. I think there had been shrapnel in her leg or back from when her ship had been shot down. That shrapnel had never been removed, and it hadn’t stayed in one spot in her body. After a centuricar accident that had truly been no one’s fault, her body had been jarred so much that the shrapnel moved and remained stuck in a place that rendered her incapable of walking ever again.
I had to do everything for her, be her caretaker, and that had been when I started to hunt and gather for every meal. Mom had the money for me to go out and hire us a personal chef, but I didn’t want that. Mom always lived a simple life, so why should I change things?
Mom never once complained. She loved me, but she kept a lot of secrets. If Strol and I decide to do this, to be together, to actually maybe one day wear rings, then there won’t be any secrets between us. He’ll have to tell me about his father, and I’ll have to tell him that I don’t know if I want children.
Which means that I should prepare myself for heartbreak now because he needs to have children.
To be a mom would mean that I would have to settle down. I would have to once again put someone else’s needs ahead of my own. I did that with my mom, so I know I can do that, but the idea terrifies me. A tiny life, one so small and helpless, completely reliant on me.
No, on us. I already know that Strol is very devoted. He would help to raise his child.
But what if I mess up? What if I ruin the child? I don’t know if I could handle that. I’m too selfish to be a mom, aren’t I? I know people can change, but can I change that much?
I swallow hard and force myself to stare at Strol. Tears prickle my eyes, and one falls.
Wordlessly, Strol crosses the short distance between us. His fingers brush away my tears, and I grab his wrist, turn my head, and kiss his palm.
His other hand comes up to cup my cheek. “Isabella,” he murmurs.
There's so much he infuses into my name, but mostly, there's that emotion I refuse to look at that deeply. For now, I ignore it too. Whatever the future has in store for me, for us, if there even is an us, I know that I need him at this very moment. I need a connection with another human, so I can stop feeling so alone in this world.
Later, afterward, then I can decide if he’s the one connection I need or if anyone would do. Because if anyone would do, then I’m not ready to be with him and only him, but if only Strol can make me happy, well, then, I will need to have a long, frank talk with him about the future.
The future. That’s something I have no plans for, and the thought of making plans now terrifies me.
But looking into Strol’s blue eyes with a faint speck of a neon hue, brings
