Free By Jove by Marissa Doyle

body—I’m damaged goods, remember.”
    She pulled him back to face her. “You’re not just the object of my desire. Bodies are just tools, another way for me to tell you that I love you.” She stopped and closed her eyes. She hadn’t meant to say that. Not yet.
    “You love me?” he whispered incredulously. “Me?”
    “No, that bust of Octavian over there. I might have a better chance of getting him to kiss me back,” she retorted, disentangling her arms from him and wrapping them around herself. This wasn’t going at all as she’d planned. “Yes, I love you. I wouldn’t be so desperate for a simple kiss if I didn’t. I’ve spent the last months talking and laughing and working with someone more wonderful than I’d ever dreamed of meeting. How could I not fall in love with you?” she said, more to herself than to him.
    “Theo—”
    “I thought you were starting to feel it too. Sometimes I see you look at me, and there’s something in your eyes that makes me think—” She broke off. A memory of intense eyes washed through her then, not gray but turquoise blue. She shook her head to clear it. “Maybe I’ve imagined it. Maybe it’s just been wishful thinking on my part.” She edged away from him. Shrieks of laughter from the Great Room below grated on her ears.
    “I love you too, Theo. I think.”
    That stopped her. “What?”
    Grant stood outlined in light from the high stairwell windows. His hands clenched, but his voice was steady. His eyes were steady, too, as he met hers. “I said, I love you. Maybe I should say it to Octavian. His ears might work better.” A faint dimple appeared in one corner of his mouth, and he put his arms around her again. She leaned her head on his shoulder, feeling like she had inhaled a full teaspoon of Dr. Waterman’s fish flakes.
    “I do feel those things that you describe. If I stare at you, it’s because I have so many things I long to do and say but don’t know how to. Oh, Theo, if you only knew—”
    “Then tell me. You don’t have to be afraid of me.” She reached up to stroke his hair.
    A slight laugh shook him. “Courage is not something I generally have a problem with.”
    “Then what is it?”
    “I’m sorry. Maybe I’m not as brilliant as you think I am. I guess I’m not progressing in my humanities studies like I should, even though I have the best teacher I could hope for. I’m trying to be more human, really I am.” His voice reached for flippant but missed.
    “Grant, why haven’t you ever been in love? Why don’t you know how to respond, even though you say that you love me?” She touched his face.
    “I can’t explain it to you yet. Not in terms that I think you’d understand.”
    “Try me. I’m a bright girl.”
    “That’s not what I meant. I don’t think I can explain it because I can’t find the words. Be patient, Theo. I hate to keep asking that of you, but I must. Someday I’ll be able to tell you.” He kissed her hand again, then held her away to look at her with a wry smile. “I must be getting a little better, if I was able to tell you that I love you. But wouldn’t it all be easier if we could be like him over there”—he nodded toward the marble bust— “and just live a life of the mind, and know that we loved each other?”
    She shook her head. “You’re being a Vulcan again. True love is of the mind, yes, when it comes down to it. But we need our bodies and senses as well as our minds to express it. It’s just the way we are.” She pulled him close again, ran her hands up and down his back, then leaned forward and nibbled his earlobe. He shivered and his arms tightened around her.
    “See? Didn’t that feel good? Could Octavian over there feel that love, without having flesh? Could words alone do that? Love is physical as well as in the mind. Listen to yourself. Listen to what your body tells you.” She bent and softly kissed his neck.
    “Flesh is weak,” he persisted though his eyes had closed