Android's Greatest Pleasure

4. Visit at the Green's

"Who says I want to live a long life?" Hank grumbles. You can tell the lieutenant isn't truly agitated by the android's behavior, and probably appreciates it. Whether he would ever audibly express that was up in the air.

Connor turns to you with a polite smile. "Ready to perform the background checks?" After your nod of approval, Connor pulls his rolling chair out from the cubby of his desk. He rolls it around the corner of his table, stopping right next to your own seat. "Going through them together would be the most efficient way at keeping us both on the same page."

He takes a seat in his new spot and uses the mouse on your computer to display the record of license plates he had uploaded yesterday.

Connor is so close to you. Too close. Did he not have any sense of personal space because he was an android? Since no smell oozed from his man-made pores, did he assume that you'd just be fine with being so near him? Or were you actually just overthinking, once again?

Him leaning over causes his shoulder to graze yours, and you flinch at the contact. God, you're acting like a schoolgirl right now. But you're just not used to physical touch—it's been a while since your last boyfriend. And you haven't treated yourself to any casual flings since then, either. A man's touch, once something you yearned for, chasing it incessantly during your days in college had transformed into to a foreign one. There was reason for that, too.

The fact that your knees are only an inch or two apart, how your breath could easily reach his neck if you turned ever so slightly, or how his arm hovered above over your lap to use the mouse—it all made you feel weird.

You're sure it has to do with your lack of physical contact with men.

Your hands are beginning to sweat, and you wipe the moisture on your jeans in a nonchalant manner to avoid any questioning. Not like Connor would be rude enough to comment on it, you just didn't want him to notice in the first place. You tilt to the left, attempting to put distance between the two of you.

It isn't because you're uncomfortable; you aren't at all. Being this close to Connor is simply too stimulating for your taste—especially if all you're doing is sitting next to each other. No way is sweating and warm cheeks an appropriate reaction for sitting next to the android.

This attraction to Connor is proving to be more troublesome than you expected. Imagine if it grew into something more—perhaps a small crush? Face ripe as a tomato and hands clammier than now, is that how you would act if you did feel that way?

"Detective?"

"Huh?"

"Do I have your attention?"

Too much of it.

"Uh, yes, sorry. Got caught up in my thoughts," you excuse. You shift your gaze from your lap to the computer screen.

The first license plate is registered under a twenty-two-year-old student at the same university as Catalina. No history of any criminal or civil charges, in good academic standing and the president of the school's black student union. Not only did the information distance her from being a likely kidnapper, but the fact that she's a female too.

Connor and you share a glance of mutual understanding that this probably wasn't the suspect. He clicks the arrow in the top right corner of the screen to show the next file.

Another student. Nineteen-year-old male with only one juvenile criminal charge. He's on the same university's baseball team and had one instance of indoor suspension at his high school. "I'm going to star all files that are license plates registered under males," Connor comments before clicking the icon on the corner of the screen. He clicks to the next file.