“Me too,” she said. “You could come to New York with me.”
He smiled at her suggestion, knowing she’d said it for fun and not because she actually thought he’d move to New York with her. The true funny part was how badly he wanted to go anywhere with her. Doctor Rovinsky and Doctor Paulson didn’t have much data to go on, given that Peter was the first of his generation, but there was speculation that when you met your DNA match, there’d be an emotional connection as well as a physical one.
He was definitely feeling a physical attraction to her, and starting to feel an emotional one. Could it be that Allison’s DNA was a good match for his? Where would she rank on Doctor Rovinsky’s scale for matching?
There was no doubt about the physical connection. With Allison on his lap and the scent of her body in his nostrils, he’d been fighting his body’s reaction in vain. He might have been a twenty-year-old virgin, but his body knew just what to do—and wanted to go for it. “I’ve never been to New York,” he said. “What would we do there? Where would we live?”
Her eyes were closed as she leaned back against his chest. “I’ve only been to New York once for a cousin’s wedding, but it was amazing. We’d live in Greenwich Village, and I’d sing at the club. As for you, you said you’re in between things. What did you do before?”
“Nothing,” he said, somewhat truthfully. “I train.”
“Train for what?” she asked.
“The future,” he said.
She laughed. “You’re an odd duck, Peter Shepard.”
“You have no idea.”
They fell into a comfortable silence and lay back under the hot summer sun with the rapid beat of the band swirling around them. His mind felt at ease, but his body was coming alive with feelings he’d suppressed for lack of an outlet. He lived on a mostly male military base, and he was expected to find his DNA match and marry her just as his father had done. There was no casual dating. Allison was literally the first girl around his age with whom he’d spent any time. So the sexual feelings that raced through his veins now? He had no idea if they’d been called to life by Allison, or if any female sitting on his lap would make him want to roll her over and mount her.
Boy, he must have matching on the brain, because his superiors had made it clear that he was to be allowed this one adventure in the outside world and then they’d start the search for his match. No wonder he kept looking at Allison as if she could be his match, but it was too crazy. The odds of finding his match first time out were like a million to one.
The only way to know for sure was to convince Allison to come back with him to The Program campus and let Doctor Rovinsky test their DNA compatibility.
Unfortunately, he’d never ask that of her, because if she were his match it would mean she’d have to give up her dream to be a rock singer in New York. She’d have to join him in his isolated secret life on the sparse military base where no one danced under the stars and had rock and roll dreams.
He’d known her less than an hour, but he wouldn’t cage her. She was a butterfly that needed to fly free.
A poke in his stomach had him looking down. “Why so bummed, Peter? You look like my mom when Steve McQueen died.”
“Who?”
“Duh… The actor. You really do live under a rock, don’t you?”
“Uh-huh.”
“So spill it. Why’re you down?”
He’d never had anyone ask about his feelings before other than his mother. Questions about his physical health? Yeah, he dealt with those constantly, but no one seemed to care about his dreams or desires. “I’m thinking about the things I want but can’t have,” he said without anticipating her reaction.
“Like what? Everyone tells me I’m stupid for thinking I can be a professional singer. I say they’re the lame ones for not taking risks. Dare to dream, Peter. What do you want?”
“You,” he blurted. He clamped his lips shut, waiting for the slap, because what he’d said to a virtual stranger was rude. Yet it was the truth.
She sat up straight and met his gaze dead on. Then to his shock, a slow smile spread widely across her face. “Okay.”
The world around him froze. A nuclear bomb could’ve gone off on stage, and he would’ve had no idea. Had he heard her right? Had Allison just agreed to have sex with him? “Uh…Did you just agree to what I think?”
She started laughing. “Peter, I wish I had a mirror so you could see your face. I said okay. You’re so not my type, but for some reason I think you’re crazy sexy. What the hell? It’s an hour or two of fun, right?”
He was glad Allison did not have her desired mirror, because he had no wish to see himself as he knew he must look right now. Deer in the headlights. He found his voice and struggled to push it out of his cottonmouth. “Remember what you said about me being a concert virgin?”
“Yeah. What about it?”
“Well, I’m the other kind of virgin, too. I think you should know before we do anything.”
Instead of scaring her off, as he’d half expected, her smile spread even wider, and she climbed onto his lap facing him, her legs wrapped around his waist. “Baby, I’m totally going to rock your world.”