Science Fiction Romance: Biomechanical Hearts (Space Sci-Fi Love Triangle) (New Adult Paranormal Fantasy)

by Olivia Myers

“Yeah, well, it’s not like either of us is particularly normal,” I say and set up the balls. “When did Phil find you?”

  “Who says Phil found me?” he asks before breaking.

  “I guess I just assumed.”

  “When I was six. My parents were divorced and my mom wouldn’t stop blaming me for my dad leaving.”

  “That’s horrible. I’m so sorry.” I stare blankly as he sets up his next shot. “She sounds like a terrible woman.”

  “Actually she was great. She kept it all inside and treated me well. But that didn’t stop me from hearing it. Phil convinced her to let me join his special school for the gifted. She was relieved as hell, and so was I.” Evan gestures to the table for me to take my turn.

  “Wow.” I set up to sink a solid ball in the side pocket and feel Evan right behind me as I bend over the table. He lays his body over mine, arms covering mine, scruffy cheek against my own.

  “I know how to play,” I say, trying not to grin.

  “I figured. I just wanted to get close to you.”

  I turn my head, shocked, and his lips are on mine, urgent and hungry. He pulls away after some time and backs up. “Your shot.”

  I miss.

  “I did that on purpose. I can’t believe you fell for it,” he says.

  Two can play at that game. I sashay up next to him as he lines up his shot, trying his best to ignore me. I slide up on the side of the table and cross my legs next to his head. Then I lean down letting my cleavage do the distracting.

  “Damn, woman. Between this, and your memories of that guy in the store, I’m dying here.” Evan fans himself.

  I jump off the table with a frown. I almost forgot he’d heard those thoughts.

  “Hey. I did it again, didn’t I?” he says, grabbing my elbow so I don’t walk away. “Put my foot in my mouth. I get it, you know. You want to drown out the thoughts. It can be a real relationship killer.”

  I guess he does get it. It must have really hurt for him to hear his mom’s real thoughts.

  “It’s okay. I’m just a little ashamed of how it all went down. And now… I should probably tell him, huh?” I hold my stomach again.

  “Probably. He seems like a decent guy.” Evan steps up to me and puts his hands over mine. “Are you scared?”

  “So scared,” I breathe, tears stinging my eyes. “I just know something’s wrong.”

  “He’s fine,” Evan says, stepping so close that our hands are pressed between us. “He’s a happy little guy. Gonna be smart too.”

  I sniffle. “Then why can’t I hear him? You can! Phil could, too. I want to hear my own baby.”

  Evan tips my chin up until I’m looking into his eyes. “It’s normal. Psychics can’t hear their own kids.”

  “Oh.” Something clicks into place and a huge weight is lifted off my chest. Suddenly my tears turn to laughter.

  “What’s so funny?” Evan asks, glancing around for the source of my madness. “You can really give a guy a complex, you know.”

  “It’s just that all this time I’ve been preoccupied with the assumption that something was wrong with my baby instead of focusing on the fact that I’m having one.” I stop laughing and grip Evan’s arms. “I’m having a baby.”

  “Yes. Yes, you are.”

  “No. You don’t understand. I’m having a baby. I have to tell Tristan. What was I thinking?”

  “You were thinking that you didn’t want to be tied for the rest of your life to some prick?” Evan guesses.

  “I thought you said he was a nice guy.” I glance up at Evan with a smirk.

  “Nice. But not right for you.”

  “Oh? And I suppose you know who would be?” I challenge, stalking toward him.

  “You need someone who can handle your crazy and the fact that you’re psychic. Ten bucks says he runs for the hills when he finds out.”

  I feel the grin on my face slip off. “Who says I’m going to tell him?” I roll the cue ball against the green felt.

  “You’re going to have to eventually. Either that or he’ll figure it out. He’s not stupid, just naïve. Plus the kid?” He nods at my belly. “He’s psychic. And Tristan is his dad whether you like it or not. You have to at least give him the opportunity to be a father.”

  I swallow back the lump in my throat. Evan’s right. Damn him.

  “I think I should get home,” I say, rolling the stick onto the side of the table. “You can stay if you want.”

  “Nah. Like I said, I’ll walk you home.” Evan slaps some cash on the bar. He puts an arm around me as we continue on down the street, each lost in our own sordid and quiet thoughts. I have to admit, it’s nice having someone there who I don’t have to listen to constantly.

  It’s only when we turn down my street that something occurs to me.

  “Evan?”

  “Yeah?”

  “How do you know where I live?” I stop on the walkway and spin to face him.

  “Like Phil said, once we know you’re one of us, we keep tabs on you. Don’t get all freaked out. It’s just me. I’m your tail.”

  “You’re my tail? I am not a cat. That is creepy on so many levels. Thanks for walking me home, but I think you should go away now. If I’m interested in joining your little club, I’ll let you know.” I back away, emotions all over the place and I don’t know if it’s from the pregnancy or because Evan is so damn confusing.

  Evan throws his hands up in the air like he’s exasperated and stalks toward me. “You are not leaving like that. Would you please just listen?”

  I hurry up the steps to the front of the apartment building. He catches up just as I’m twisting the key in the lock. I fumble as he puts a hand over mine, his breath warming my ear.

  “Seriously!” I say, turning on him. “You don’t find it the slightest bit… icky? To spy on people? Decide their fate?”

  Evan glances back around like he’s afraid we’re being watched, then sighs heavily, placing one hand over each of my shoulders and leaning in. “Yes. Yes, I do. And I think the Eye needs to be stopped. If you tell anyone this, not only will you lose your entire memory, but I’ll deny it.”

  “What?”

  “I am part of another group, Cassie. I’m a spy. We believe in letting people do what they do and dealing with the consequences. You never know when someone will change his mind.”

  I let this digest. My head hurts. “And you’d erase my memory?”

  “Not me. But the group would have no choice. I’m the closest they’ve ever gotten to the inside. Phil is the Eye. The Eye is Phil.”

  I sigh and lean back against the glass door. This is crazy. I didn’t know the Eye existed until just hours ago. Now there’s another group of psychics? “What are you? The Ears?” I joke.

  Evan smiles, relaxing slightly. “No. We just go by The Rebels. But that’s not bad.”

  “And your whole argument about what I’d do to the rapist?” I ask.

  “You would have stopped him in that moment or close to it. You weren’t going after him to stop him from some crime he might commit in a month or a year. You were worried specifically about a girl he was stalking. That’s reasonable.”

  “You’re stalking me.”

  “You like it.”

  Before I can retort to his rude argument, his lips are on mine and his arms gather me in close. I melt into the kiss, throwing my arms back around him and tangling one leg around his just to pull him closer. His hands tangle in my hair and mine slide under his jacket. He thrusts me back against the door, pressing into me. His lips suck on my neck, beneath my ear. His mouth is warm and I close my eyes, reveling in it.

  Evan’s hands slip up over my breasts and I feel his erection growing hard against my body. I steer one of my hands down his hard stomach and inside his pants. He groans in response and my mouth finds his again.

  I’m about to ask him inside, when my cell goes off. I pull back to answer, but Evan continues undeterred, his fingers tugging my shirt loose from my pants and workin
g beneath the thin material and then my bra. His skin is cold and I try not to gasp as I answer.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Cassandra. It’s Tristan. We met at the bookstore today again? I hope I’m not calling too late.”

  “Tristan,” I say out loud, trying to get Evan to pause, but it seems that the name only makes him hornier because he slides a hand of his own down my pants. “Oh.”

  “Should I call tomorrow?” Tristan asks and he sounds so heartbroken.

  “No. That’s okay. I can talk for a minute.” I try to push Evan’s hand away with my free one, but he’s between my legs now and it feels so good I end up moving my hips and clutching his wrist to keep it there.

  “Did you want to maybe get some coffee?” Tristan asks.

  “Sure. Tomorrow. Ten. At the Union.” Oh, God.

  “You’re breathing kind of heavy. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I was just working out,” I lie. “See you tomorrow?” It’s taking all my concentration not to yelp or moan and the second Tristan says goodbye I drop my phone back into my pocket and bite my lip.

  “Hot date?” Evan asks, back at my mouth again. He pulls at my bottom lip with his teeth and I can barely think straight, let alone answer his sarcastic remark.

  “Inside?” I manage.

  “Don’t mind if I do,” he says and tugs at my waistband.

  “I mean inside the apartment!’ I screech, stopping him and glancing around to make sure we’re still alone.

  “What about your roommate?” he asks, stopping everything, but holding my waist

  Shit. He’s right. “I’ll kick her out?” I offer.

  Evan smiles, his blond hair more messy than ever. “How about I leave you like this to think about during your hot date with Tristan tomorrow?”

  He kisses me softly and backs away, leaving me wanting and cold.

  “You’re not nice,” I say. But I see the lump in his pants and based on my earlier explorations, I know it’s a fairly decent sized lump. “But I guess you’ll have to think about me too.”

  “Or you can come back to my place,” he says, his own voice dark with want.

  So tempting. I put a hand over my tummy and squeeze my eyes closed, praying I was making the right choice. “Let’s have dinner tomorrow. I need to take care of this first.”

  “I get it,” he says. “I’ll text you. Remember, not a word to anyone.”

  “I wouldn’t dare.”

  ***

  I should have made our date for eleven because by the time I drag my ass out of bed, it’s almost ten. I shower, brush my teeth and throw on some light makeup. I end up with a floor full of jeans because everything is suddenly too tight, so I settle on a cute little sundress covered in zigzagging stripes so my stomach won’t be obvious, just my cleavage.

  By the time I get there I’m worried he’ll be gone, but there’s Tristan, sipping a latte and staring out the window. I know I shouldn’t do it, but I concentrate on his mind and try to listen in.

  She stood me up. No. Give her another ten minutes. Maybe she’s scared like me. Maybe she isn’t even sure if she’s going to come.

  “Hey, Tristan! I’m sorry I was late. I had a rough night. Sleep-wise. I had a rough night’s sleep.” Ugh. I sit down across from him and try to breathe. “Thanks for waiting.”

  “I needed coffee anyhow,” he says, tossing his now empty cup in the trash a couple tables down.

  “Nice shot,” I say, wondering if our baby will be a basketball player.

  “Thanks. I also get to show off my skills. So what’s not to like about coffee dates?” He grins.

  “Listen, Tristan, I need to talk to you about something.”

  “Okay. Shoot.”

  “Right. Well, this is really hard to say, but I’m just going to get it out. Are you sitting? Of course you’re sitting.”

  Tristan furrows his brow.

  I shut my eyes because I’m scared to look at his reaction. Then I take a deep breath and blurt it out. “I’m pregnant.”

  His mind is a silent buzz. After another minute, I risk opening an eye.

  Tristan stares at me, but kind of through me. He’s very still. Did I give him a stroke? I pass a hand in front of his face until he blinks.

  It can’t be mine.

  That’s his first thought. I feel ill.

  “It’s yours,” I whisper.

  “Are you sure?” he asks in a hoarse voice.

  “You’re the only one I slept with for like the last six months. So yeah, unless it belongs to Jesus, you’re it.” I stand up, trying to hold back the tears.

  “Wait. Sit down. Cassandra!”

  I stop and swing around to say my piece. “Listen. I thought it was only right to let you know. I don’t expect anything. I’m not going to try to weasel my way into your life or ask you for money or anything like that. So you can breathe a sigh of relief and we can both get on with out lives.”

  I’m pretty proud of myself for not letting my voice crack.

  “Wait. I didn’t say that! I was in shock, but…but I want to be part of my kid’s life. Okay?” He’s standing now, reaching for me.

  Please don’t go. I’m such an idiot I might have scared her away.

  I sniff and glance around before allowing myself to walk back to the table and take a seat.

  Tristan smiles and sits as well. “Can I get you something? A coffee? I mean can you have that?”

  “I’ve been drinking decaf,” I say. “But I’m not hungry right now. Thanks.”

  Tristan nods, taking it slow. “So, how long have you known?”

  I cover my stomach with one hand and glance down. “I was about eight weeks when I found out. I’m actually about fourteen weeks now. Second trimester.”

  “Wow. And you didn’t get ahold of me?” he asks, trying to control his anger, but I sense it.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I was shocked and confused, and honestly I didn’t even think you’d want to be involved.”

  Tristan swallows hard and looks away. How would you know what I’m like? You screwed me, but didn’t take a minute to get to know me. “Well, you were wrong. So maybe we should try to get to know each other a little better going forward. Obviously we’re going to be part of each other’s lives, whether we like it or not.”

  That stings and I feel my face flush. He’s right. I didn’t give him a chance. But… “You don’t understand,” I say quickly. “Look, there’s more to tell you, but you aren’t going to believe it and you’ll end up thinking your son’s mother is insane.”

  “Son?” he asks, leaning in, a twinkle in his eye. “You know it’s a boy?”

  I nod. “Did you not hear the insane part?”

  “I’ll try not to judge. Give me a chance for once instead of making all these assumptions.”

  The buzz of conversation both internal and external surrounds us, feeling more pronounced. But I also somehow feel like we’re in our own little bubble. Tristan takes my hand in his and leans in further, intent on whatever I’m about to say.

  “Okay. Here goes. I’m psychic and so is our son.”

  Our son.

  Our son.

  I smile despite myself.

  “Psychic? You mean you sometimes guess what someone’s thinking about? That’s totally normal, Cassandra. I’ve actually been studying that for a class project. That’s why I was in that bookstore yesterday. Now I guess I know why you were. Don’t worry though, I don’t judge you for your beliefs. Everyone’s entitled to her opinion.”

  “It’s not an opinion. It’s a fact.” I withdraw my hand and settle back in my seat, pressing my hands to my temples in an attempt to block out the headache that’s coming on fast.

  Is this some kind of test to see how I’ll react? he wonders.

  “No. It’s not a test,” I answer.

  “Wait. You just heard what I said? But I didn’t say it out loud.” Tristan half whispers, half shouts across the table.

  “Yeah. That’s what I�
�m trying to tell you. Go ahead and think something else.” I focus on him.

  Purple.

  “Purple,” I repeat.

  I love chicken potpie.

  “Ew,” I say. “I don’t like chicken pot pie. But I have been craving hamburgers.”

  “That’s incredible!” Tristan leans back, satisfied. “So the baby can do that too?”

  I nod.

  “How do you know? Can you talk to him?”

  “No. Apparently psychic moms can’t hear their babies’ thoughts. But he hears mine. Another psychic told me.”

  “Wait. How many of you are there?” Tristan asks, glancing around like he may be surrounded. After yesterday I wonder if he might.

  “I don’t know. More than I thought. But this is why I acted the way I did. Can you understand that, Tristan? I’m used to guys’ thoughts and well, they usually aren’t very nice.”

  “So you judged me before I had a chance?” Tristan’s face flushes. He’s getting angry again. “You know, thoughts are supposed to be private. How would you like it if I knew your every thought?”

  “I can’t help it. I wish I could.” Tears sting the backs of my eyes and I play with a packet of sugar on the table. “It hurts hearing so much all at once. All these people.” I gesture around. “That’s why I used to drink so much. I can’t hear when I’m drunk.”

  “You were drunk that night we had sex.”

  “Yeah. And you were silent and really hot. I didn’t want to risk you not being the guy I hoped you were. I’m so sorry. If I could do it over—”

  “Well what’s done is done. What do you say we try this again? The right way, now that I know the truth. But you have to promise that if you hear me say something silently, that you’ll give me a chance to explain before you run off or get angry.”

  “Well at least we know the sex is good.” I grin.

  He puts a hand on mine again as flashes of memory heat up our minds.

  “Wait,” he says, pulling away. “The baby can see that too. Oh my God. That’s so wrong. I can’t!” He stands up and brushes a hand back through his hair.

  “Maybe you better take some time to process all of this,” I say, trying not to make eye contact lest I’ll lose it.

  He nods. I’ll call you.