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

by Olivia Myers

  My fist clenches at my side. I was taking tonight off of my little weekend hobby I like to call Superhero Watch, but I’ll be damned if I’m letting this guy get away with date rape.

  “Excuse me,” I say, stopping the girl as she lifts the cup to her lips. “Have you seen Tristan? I’m supposed to meet him here.” I smile, acting a bit more drunk than I actually am and stumble over my heels, “accidentally” knocking her drugged beer to the ground. “Oh shit! I’m so sorry.”

  Goddammit, drunk bitch. That was my last Roofy.

  I glare at the guy as the girl tells me she doesn’t know a Tristan. Go away. I almost got him to ask me out.

  Sometimes it’s tempting not to help the victim. I sigh and drape an arm around her shoulders. I lean in to her ear and whisper, “I saw him slip something in your drink. Be careful.” Then I giggle and stand up straight.

  The girl’s eyes grow big. “Thank you,” she says and runs out of the room.

  “What did you say to her?” the guy demands, stepping toward me, anger in his eyes. I stumble backwards a little, not expecting that.

  “Is this guy bothering you?” Another guy, about six-foot-two with the nicest grey eyes I’ve ever seen, joins us. He must’ve come in the other door.

  I don’t need this shit. Tonight’s a bust, the date rapist thinks. He puts his hands up in a gesture of surrender before retreating back into the party.

  “Thanks,” I say, enjoying the knight in shining armor’s shadow of facial hair and full lips. “You wouldn’t happen to be Tristan, would you?”

  “Don’t tell me you’re Cassandra.” He smiles really big.

  I nod, wanting to go straight for his luscious lips, but I try to control myself. “You’re only missing the armor.”

  I playfully put a hand on his chest. Oh yeah. Hard as a rock.

  She’s pretty.

  “Thank you,” I say, then realize he didn’t say it out loud. “I’d love a drink.” I add the last quickly like it was a joke, and laugh awkwardly. After years of dealing with awkward moments, I’ve learned to bluff my way through most of them.

  “Oh! Sure. Um, here.” He searches the counter, takes a fresh cup and pours some cheap wine in it from an open bottle on the counter.

  I take the drink and grin. “So you’re friends with Rick.”

  “Yeah. I don’t usually come to parties like this, but he kind of begged me. Now I’m glad I said yes.”

  I down the wine. “I don’t usually come to these parties, either,” I lie. “But Sara wanted me to meet you and now I see why. How about we get out of here?”

  Tristan offers me his arm and leads me outside and to his car, keeping with the gallant knight persona. His mind is blissfully quiet now that all the alcohol has kicked in, and I can concentrate on enjoying his gorgeous body and those amazing eyes.

  “Where would you like to go?” he asks, when he’s gotten in the driver’s seat.

  I grasp him by the neck and pull him over the center console for a kiss. He melts right into it and I suck in his lower lip, which is just as soft as I thought it would be. My hands travel down his chest to his waist, and I slip my hand under his shirt, where I explore every ridge as I climb up onto my knees.

  He breaks away, breathing hard. I take the opportunity to pull off the lucky dress. It’s done its job already.

  “Wow,” he says. “Isn’t this kind of fast?”

  “Shut up and take off your pants,” I say, climbing over so I’m straddling his lap, my chest pressed against his. His body is warm and delicious. I use my teeth and tongue to tease at the skin of his neck, while undoing his zipper and button since he’s not moving fast enough for me.

  The alcohol makes everything softer and I feel like I’m spinning on a cloud while his hands finally join in and explore my body. He reaches between us and slides his fingers between my thighs, stroking me.

  “Yes,” I say, straining against him, coaxing him further. His fingers slip inside of me and explore, making me moan with pleasure. He’s ready now too—I feel him swollen against my stomach.

  My hand fumbles on the side of the seat for the controls and I send him backwards, me on top, laughing. His dick is standing at attention, hard and ready, so I adjust my position so I can slide over him. It’s pure decadence as I churn my hips, bouncing over his lap.

  “Wait. Condom,” he pants.

  “It’s more adventurous this way,” I say, through my own heavy breaths.

  He lets his head fall back against the seat, eyes closed in the throes of ecstasy. His hands run up my abdomen to cup and squeeze my bobbing breasts.

  I gasp as I reach orgasm, my body releasing all pent up tension as waves of passion pulse through me.

  “Oh, God.” Tristan releases inside of me, clutching my hips like a lifeline as he reaches his own peak.

  I lie down over him, meeting those delicious lips again with mine as he runs his hands up and down my sides and back, finally cupping my head.

  “Wow,” he says, when I release him. “Just. Wow. I… I’m sorry if I moved too fast for you.”

  I laugh as I pull the dress back over my head. “I think I’m the one that should apologize. I kind of made the move, you know?”

  I flop back in my own seat, sweating, and completely satisfied.

  “Well I would’ve at least liked to take you somewhere nicer, but I can’t exactly complain,” Tristan says, fixing himself and his own seat. “It’s been a while and well, I hope I wasn’t too fast for you.” His face burns red even in the low light of the nearest street lamp.

  I place my hand over his. “You were perfect.”

  He’s even hotter with his hair all mussed up like that. I’m so glad I can’t read his thoughts right now since they’d probably ruin the whole thing. I like taking what he says at face value.

  “Are you hungry?” he asks, actually starting the car.

  “Actually, do you mind just taking me home? I’m really tired.”

  “Oh. Um, sure.” Tristan listens to my directions and gets me back to the small apartment I share with Sara. We’re silent on the way, which is great for me because for once there’s literally no sound.

  “Here we are,” I say as he puts it in park. “Thanks for everything.” The world spins as I open the car door. “Whoa.”

  “Let me help you to the door at least,” he says, rushing around to my side and offering a hand.

  I take it and bump into him as I stand up. “You’re cute,” I say. “And you have a great cock.”

  His eyebrows shoot up in the air. “Thank you?”

  I touch the tip of his nose with my finger and blow him a kiss before leaving him behind on the sidewalk.

  ***

  I expect to pay the morning after I get drunk, but it’s been weeks and I still feel sick. I must’ve caught some long-acting flu because I can’t stop puking. Probably got it from Tristan. At least it wasn’t an STD.

  “You okay?” Sara asks me for the sixteenth time since class. We had Psych with Mr. Evans, the oldest professor on campus, this morning. I registered for his class on purpose so I wouldn’t hear his thoughts. She got him by accident and was upset, but only until she realized we had the same class. “You don’t look so good.”

  “Thanks.” I’d heard it in her thoughts a bunch of times already, but saying it out loud didn’t help. She’s right though—I’m pale and I feel like crap. And despite my stomach issues, I’ve been starving, stuffing my face, and have started getting a little soft around the middle as a result.

  “That’s not fair,” Sara says when I whine about it out loud. “I know you’ve been eating bad lately, but it shouldn’t count if you just throw it all up again. Maybe you should go to the health center.”

  “So they can practice on me?” I laugh. I have no desire to be a guinea pig for med students. They have a reputation for telling everyone they have mono anyhow until they test and it comes out negative. I think I’m beyond their scope.

  “I’m hungry. Want to grab lu
nch?” I ask.

  Sara rolls her eyes. “I’m meeting Rick. Catch you later?”

  “Sure.”

  I grab my purse and head over to the student union where I grab an entire giant, greasy pizza. I sit down at a table and try to block out as much as possible. The usual assault of thoughts isn’t too bad though, because it’s only a few minutes before ten, and there aren’t many people around.

  I sink my teeth into the first bite. The chair next to me scrapes against the floor as someone sits down, and I jump.

  “Didn’t mean to scare you.” It’s a guy about my age with deep-set blue eyes and sandy blond hair. He’s cute so I forgive him. But more importantly, I can’t hear him.

  “Do I know you?” I’m a little afraid he’ll say yes. What if I got too drunk one night and…

  “No. But I do know some things about you.” He folds his hands on the table and leans in close.

  “Like what?” I ask, curious.

  “You like pizza for starters. I mean really like it.”

  I laugh. “You’re a deductive genius. Is your name Sherlock?”

  “No. It’s Evan. So tell me, Cassie, how long have you been pregnant?”

  I drop the pizza I’d been lifting toward my mouth. “Excuse me?”

  Evan sits up straight. “I’m sorry. I assumed you knew you were eating for two.”

  “Nice.” That’s the second time today someone’s insulted my looks. But this time it’s a handsome guy that I can’t get a reading on. Until now I was hoping he was my next fuck. Even boyfriend material because apparently I wouldn’t have to stay drunk to avoid his thoughts. Too bad he puts them on broadcast to everyone anyway.

  I stand and grab my pizza box to move but he catches my elbow. “Please wait. This isn’t what I intended at all.”

  I sigh and let him tug me back to my seat, where I once again attempt to eat. My mind wanders, though. The memory of my night with Tristan in his car is still fresh and brings heat to my cheeks. I told him there was no time for condoms. I open my phone’s calendar as Evan says something about a bookstore on Main. Has it really been two whole months since the party? That can’t be right. I count again to be sure.

  The flu doesn’t last two months.

  I haven’t had a period either.

  Shit.

  “You okay?” Evan asks, reaching out.

  “You knew. How? How did you know? Don’t tell me because I was eating pizza. You didn’t know I planned to eat the whole damn thing.” I don’t care that I’m shouting. I’m shaking also with rage, fear, and shock. I can’t be pregnant. Evan will tell me I’m nuts and leave and I’ll know it was all in my head.

  “Calm down, Cassie.”

  “You knew my name too.”

  Evan presses his lips together, glancing around to make sure no one else is listening. “It’s the first thing the baby learns. His mother’s name.”

  I think I’m going to puke again.

  “You’re psychic?” I ask, standing. He doesn’t stop me this time.

  Evan looks unsure of how to handle me. Finally he says, “So are you.”

  “How did you know?”

  “The baby knows. He will be too, but I can hear him because he’s still so young.”

  I back away from the table like it’s a wild animal ready to strike. Is that why I can’t hear Evan? He’s psychic?

  “I can see I made a bad choice here. I should have approached you differently.” Evan stands carefully like he’s afraid he’ll spook me. “Just, if you want to find out more, come see Phil at the store. He’ll know how to find me.”

  My mouth is so dry I can’t speak. I just watch as Evan disappears into the student store. By the time my senses come back to me he’s gone. I rush after, but can’t find him. Finally I sit down on a chair by the dressing room and close my eyes.

  I can’t be pregnant. If I was, I’d hear the baby, I reassure myself. Still, two months with no period and all this vomiting? Plus I’m hungry all the time and I’m starting to gain weight…

  ***

  “The test was positive,” the girl says. She’s a med student and she’s got an actual doctor over her shoulder, scowling at me. It doesn’t take a psychic to know what she thinks of me.

  “I’m. I’m. I’m.”

  “Pregnant,” the young one offers with a smile.

  My hand automatically goes to my belly. “Something’s wrong,” I say. “You have to do tests. I need to know what’s wrong with my baby.”

  The girl looks alarmed, but the older lady sighs deeply. “It’s okay Miss Collins. Cassandra is it? It’s normal to feel shocked.”

  “You don’t understand. I should be able to hear it.”

  The wannabe doctor stares like I’m a nutcase. The older one says, “Very well, let’s do an ultrasound so you can see that everything’s normal.”

  I wait on the table while they wheel in the equipment and spread the cold gel over my stomach. “Sometimes it’s too early and we need to do a vaginal, but… oh. There it is.” She turns the monitor toward me and I see a pulsing image on the dark screen. At first it just looks like a bunch of white static, but then she points out my uterus and I see it inside. A tiny lima bean shape with an even tinier beating heart and the smallest limbs I’ve ever seen.

  My hand covers my mouth and tears spring to my eyes.

  “It looks perfectly normal. Heartbeat is steady and just right for this point in your pregnancy. I recommend you see an OB as soon as possible. If you can’t afford it, of course you can come back here as long as you’re still part of the University.”

  “But… I know there’s something wrong. It must be his brain,” I insist.

  The doctor looks at me with more sympathy this time, but that only makes this worse. “I’m sure it’s fine. But you should see a specialist if you can afford it. I can’t tell the gender yet either by the way.”

  “It’s a boy. Evan said it was.” I roll my head to the side, mentally and physically exhausted. I’m starting to feel nauseous again too.

  “Is Evan the father?” she asks, cleaning off the gel with a tissue.

  “No. He’s a psychic.”

  She clucks her tongue at me and rolls the machine away. “For heaven’s sake. I know they’re supposed to exist, but please. If you were a psychic, how could you not know you’re pregnant?”

  “I sit up, pulling down my shirt. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I’m psychic and I can’t hear the baby.”

  Now I get the glare of doom from the doctor and a clear message, albeit not out loud. What a waste of time! This girl is a nutcase. I hope she doesn’t do drugs or something. That poor baby. Maybe I should report this to someone.

  “I’m kidding,” I say quickly. “It was a joke, but you look like you took me seriously. Listen, thank you for the help. I do feel better. I’m going to go make an appointment with my Ob-Gyn right now.”

  She nods, accepting this, and leaves the room.

  Clutching my stomach, I drop off the table and head outside, through the maze of people waiting for their turn at the clinic and then through the neatly trimmed sidewalks and large brick buildings. Bikes whiz by throngs of people laughing or heading to classes. All of their voices mix in my head like a big ball of white noise.

  Why can’t I hear you?

  I need to find Evan. I’ve never actually met another psychic, at least one that knew what I was or told me. He seemed to know what was happening. He even spoke with the baby so he’ll know what’s wrong with him.

  The question is, how do I find him? He said something about a store and a guy named Felix. No. Wait. It was Phil. I think. Crap. There must be a million stores in and around the area, not to mention a million and one Phils.

  The way I figure it, I have about seven months to find the right one.

  ***

  Superhero Watch isn’t nearly as fun when distracted by the idea of a tiny person inside of me. It’s tough to concentrate on other thoughts when I can’t stop thinking
about all the fetuses I’ve spoken to over the years. I love their thoughts. Tiny glimpses of what they see and hear. So why can’t I talk to my own child?

  I can’t seem to keep my hand off my stomach either, like I’m supporting him since I can’t communicate any other way. How do non-psychic people do it? Six weeks I’ve searched for Evan and I’ve about given up. But tonight I figure I’ll walk down Main and check out some more stores just outside of the campus area. It’s always crowded on Friday night and I’m bound to run into some drunk asshole that means someone harm.

  Maybe saving someone will take my mind off my baby and make me feel better about my abilities at the same time.

  I grab a cup of decaf just to hold on to something as I stalk the sidewalks, picking up snippets of internal monologues.

  What if he finds out I’m cheating?

  I wonder if she’ll notice the zit.

  I can’t wait to tell Phil about the occult book I found.

  Phil. Book. Something about that draws my attention and I try to focus in on the last thought I picked up. It’s a girl, probably a freshman since she looks young and is wearing the latest in high school fashion – floppy winter boots and short shorts. She has long black hair with a purple ombre at the bottom. Sure enough she’s carrying an ancient-looking book under one tan arm. I watch as she steps into a small door at an angle to the street. I glance up at the sign overhead and see it’s called Phantom Phil’s Quirky Books and Doodads. Okay.

  I think back to my conversation with Evan and remember he said something about Phil and bookstore. He also mentioned Main Street…

  …Hot ass. Gotta get me some of that tonight. She looks like she squeals when cornered. Squirming and squealing…

  Ew. I glance over and see an average looking guy in a jean jacket staring at the door of the same bookstore. He licks his lips as he inches forward. I squint at him and focus on reading more, no matter how disgusting.

  Pictures instead of words this time. The girl with the purple umbrae in the alley behind the store. Naked. He has her pinned to the wall and she’s begging him to stop, weakly struggling against him like some bad porn movie. When he enters her and her pleas change to begging for “more,” I run back to the same alley and vomit up my lunch.