Mark 1 - Dirkjohn

Chapter 7

"You said you could, right? Uhm, d-distract me?" I ask, heart still pounding in my chest. I hold onto my wrist behind my back and look at the floor.

"This is the most unromantic come-on I've ever heard, kid," Bro says, and his deep voice makes little prickles of anxiety wash over my skin.

"Nevermind," I say hurriedly, and move to open the door again.

"Hang on a damn second. Jesus, you spook easier than a fuckin' deer," he says, and I stop and actually wring my hands as I look back at him. He's still looking pretty relaxed in his chair as he observes me, as if contemplating his options. I lean back against the door for a precious extra centimeter of space between me and the eldest Strider.

"It's just that, well, I was talking to him this morning and I think I was going to tell him how I felt but then he totally freaked out and then I started freaking out and the whole thing went downhill really fast," I gush. "So I realized you were right. I'm like, two seconds away from ruining everything and I don't know if I can even keep my mouth shut so if you can help at all then please."

Bro turns his chair until he's facing me and sits up a little straighter. He regards me for a moment before gesturing me over with a jerk of his head. My feet suddenly feel rooted to the floor.

"C'mere," he orders, which gets me moving. I stop a few steps away from his chair but he's still gesturing me closer. Panic rises in my chest as I inch a bit closer to him, completely unable to tell just where he wants me to be. Then he pats his thigh.

"I'm not sitting in your lap!" I say incredulously, taking a step back. He just grins and shrugs. "Suit yourself, little one," he says, and leans back in his chair, crossing his leg over his knee. "But I don't know how well I can distract you if you don't let me do my job."

The flood of relief I feel is overwhelming, because I had been almost positive he was going to force me to do it and I don't think I could handle dying of embarrassment within the first 5 minutes of this escapade.

"Uhm, it's not that I'm trying to be insulting. Maybe we can just talk? It's kinda funny, I've been coming over here for years now and I kind of don't know anything about you," I say nervously, and start fiddling with something on top of his dresser. Closer inspection reveals it to be one of what appears to be several computer motherboards.

"Heh. Knock yourself out, kid," he agrees, crossing his arms over his broad chest and tilting his head as if he's waiting to hear what I have to say. I wish he hadn't done that, because now my mind has gone completely blank and all I can focus on is the fact that he is so infuriatingly... handsome. I turn away from him and walk to his bookshelf to protect myself from staring at him. I reach out and gently touch the binding of one of his books with a trembling hand. It looks like an old instruction manual.

This was such a bad idea, I think, but I'm neck deep in it now and there's no taking it back. I'm pretty sure there's not a single thing me and the mysterious Bro Strider have in common to talk about, but I realize there's an opportunity right in front of my face so I take it.

"Oh! You have a lot of books on robotics! Do you like robots? Like science-fictiony robots or mor-"

I jump because Bro's hand slides slowly across my stomach as he presses up behind me and rests his chin on my shoulder. I hadn't even heard him get out of his chair, much less walk over to me. His other hand comes to rest on my left hip and I make the stupidest little squeak.