Page 36 of Evolved

And so am I.

My legs splay around him as I wrap my arms around his shoulders, my legs around his hips, press my lips to his temple, taste the salt on his skin.

I’d have chosen sex. I’d have chosen it and the million scary outcomes that could have come with it in a world without doctors or choices.

It’s one more thing to love about him.

“We need condoms,” I whisper.

He shifts, his big hand coming up to find my face, to push my hair away from where it’s clinging to my cheeks. “We need a lot of things.”

I nod against his lips as they find mine again. We’re more patient this time, now that we’re not so desperate. It’s softer, more first-kiss feeling, more of a promise than a question.

“You were supposed to do it first,” he says it first.

“I …” I struggle to think clearly, to comb through blurring memories. “I feel like I did.”

“After I kissed your neck.”

Very carefully slip my hand up his chest, behind his neck, and into his hair, pull him close, and kiss him. Once. Twice.

“Now I’ve instigated first sexual contact and kisses.” And then I go one further. I force myself to say the most embarrassing thing I’ve probably ever said out loud to anyone. “And I’ll add the first embarrassing admission. I think I’ve had a crush on you since the day we met.”

And what does he say to this humbling statement?

“I know.” And he’s laughing, his shoulders rocking slightly against my naked body.

“You … you know?”

“Yes, I know.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I’ve had one on you.” His thumb slips along my cheek. “It’s why I resigned.”

“You resigned?”

‘I was only supposed to work two more months.”

“Why””

“It would have been y unprofessional for a service member to make a pass at the granddaughter of the VPOTUS.”

I run through that, imagine how it would have played out in an alternate history where the virus never came, where Gran continued to serve as vice president, and then ran on her own ticket. Gina would have had her surgery. Gran would have had dialysis. He would have resigned … and asked me out?

Would I have been brave enough to say yes?

I hope so.

USUALLY, IT’S STILL DARK when we wake to the smell of coffee.

But the sun is streaming through the windows when I open my eyes the next morning.

No smell of coffee.

I crane my ears for the sound of Gran moving around in the kitchen below and hear nothing.

Beside me, Knox stirs, his body stiffening as he takes in the same lack of sensory stimuli as me.