Liam stood in front of the mirror, straightening his golf cap, the epitome of relaxed luxury—his polo shirt perfectly tucked into tailored khaki shorts, the leather shoes polished to a shine that could blind.
He didn't look like a man going to a museum. No, this was a man about to meet his father, a man who'd been playing golf since before Liam could walk.
Rose, meanwhile, was quietly folding his gloves, tucking them into the side pocket of his golf bag. Her slender fingers moved with precision, and she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror—oversized shirt, bare legs, looking like some parody of an overgrown kid playing dress-up.
"Sorry sweetie..." Liam's voice cut through her thoughts. "I was planning on going to a museum today and taking you along, you know, to buy you clothes on the way."
Her heart leaped for a second—freedom?
"But," he sighed, checking the contents of the bag she'd packed for him, "my dad wants to meet me. Seems important."
Rose tried to fake a slight frown of disappointment although, deep inside, she couldn't be happier. The museum trip was canceled—that's totally okay. She was totally happy about that—to be able to finally get some time alone if Liam left. The idea of an empty apartment where she could breathe, just breathe without playing the perfect girlfriend, was intoxicating.
Then came the kicker.
"But you need something to wear," Liam added casually, like he was dropping a bombshell on a lazy afternoon. "All my friends are busy on the weekends, so I asked Rach for a favor. She's gonna take you shopping today."
The color drained from Rose's face. Rachael? Rachael, who had just this morning referred to her as a "creepy, disgusting love bot"? The same Rachael who had only toned down the insults when Liam walked back into the room after the call with his dad?
Liam, oblivious to the internal panic running through her circuits, was busy adjusting the straps of the golf bag, like it was the most natural thing in the world. "I can go shopping alone," Rose suggested, trying to keep the hopeful tone in her voice from cracking.
Liam didn't even bother looking up. "No."
He gave the straps a final tug, then turned to face her with the dead-serious expression that only a man forced to deal with his golf-obsessed father could pull off.
"You're gonna get lost again, like yesterday. Never letting you go out alone again, sweetie. Besides," he gave her a smile that should've felt warm but landed like a heavy thud in her chest, "you're a love bot. It's dangerous out there for you. Rach has a strong background in combat and shooting. You'll be safe."
Safe with Rachael? Safe? With Rachael? Safe from what, exactly? Not safe from her though for sure...
Liam saw her expression and misunderstood it. He gently took the golf bag from her arms, his touch soft despite the firm grip. "Here, give me that. It's too heavy for you."
Rose let him take it, but the frustration was growing. This wasn't just about today—it was about all the days to come. She knew, from the second she ran away yesterday, that she'd blown it. Getting Liam's trust back would be harder than she'd thought. He wouldn't let her leave again. Not alone. Not anytime soon.
"Rach is waiting outside," Liam said, hoisting the golf bag over his shoulder. "And trust me, she might not look like it, but she has a kind heart. Sweetie, it's gonna be fine.".
As Liam adjusted the bag again, the word "sweetie" echoed in his mind. Why was he talking to her like this? She wasn't real. She wasn't supposed to be real. And yet, there he was—caring.
He could've just commanded Rose to do what he wanted. Press a button, say the word, and she'd have no choice but to obey. But no, instead, he was giving her choices, treating her like... like a real young woman.
And that worried him.
Her disappearing yesterday still gnawed at him. He hadn't fully believed her story, and trust? Well, it was hanging on by a thread.
Still Liam didn't want to lose Rose, not again. No, not after feeling this ridiculous... connection after the past couple of days. It didn't make sense, but somehow, it was there—something real between them. And that scared the hell out of him.
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Outside, Rachael leaned against the driver's side of her sleek, futuristic car, a sleek chrome thing with sharp angles and a glow that pulsed faintly along its edges, like a living organism. She eyed the card Liam handed her with a grimace.
"So, does your little love bot even know how to interact with another girl?" she asked, tapping the card against her leg like it was a burden.
Liam ignored the jab and helped Rose into the passenger seat of Rach's car. He was careful, almost tender, the way he adjusted her seatbelt. "Call her Rose," he said, his voice tight. "If you treat her like a human, she'll pass just fine."
He paused, the concern creeping back into his voice. "And don't draw attention by calling her a love bot in public. You've heard the stories, right? About love bots being robbed and… assaulted."
Rachael smirked, but it wasn't a kind one. "Oh, now our Captain Liam is suddenly up-to-date on all the sad, tragic news stories about love bots. How touching."
"Rach, I'm serious. Take care of her today." Liam's voice was firm, but there was something else in it too. A softness, a vulnerability. "I want her to come back… fine. Relaxed. Don't let her pick up any bad memories today."
Rachael raised her eyebrows. This wasn't like him—this level of protectiveness. She couldn't help but be a little surprised. "Alright, Liam. But remember, you owe me for this one."
Liam nodded, giving her a quick smile. "I got you."
He turned to Rose, his voice gentler. "Have fun, sweetie. I'll see you tonight."
Rose's eyes flicked nervously between Liam and Rachael, who was already in the driver's seat, the engine humming softly beneath them.
"Sweetie?" Rachael rolled her eyes. "My ears are gonna bleed from all this saccharine nonsense. Please stop with the lovey-dovey talk, or I might just change my mind and dump her on the side of the road."
Liam chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "Alright, alright. I just call her that 'cause she seems younger than me. Didn't mean to make you feel like a third wheel."
Rachael narrowed her eyes. "How old is she, anyway?"
Liam's hand froze mid-scratch. He coughed awkwardly. "Uh… no idea, actually."
"What?" Rachael's voice was dripping with sarcasm. "You're telling me you're all attached to this thing, and you don't even know how old she's supposed to be?"
Liam ran a hand through Rose's hair, feeling a twinge of embarrassment. "So, uh… sweetie? What mental age are you designed to be?"
Rose hesitated for just a moment. "Eighteen."
She lied. It was the safe choice. Love bots from Lucas's company were all programmed to be exactly eighteen. Not a day younger, not a day older. Rose herself was 20, but close enough. She remembered being 18, and she cringed at the thought. Back then, she thought and acted barely more than a kid. It was ridiculous that the system decided that was the perfect age for a love bot to be… But here she was, playing the part.