Page 21 of Zylus

After convincing myself she’ll certainly understand and will hold me harmless, I explain in a calm, organized fashion how everything fell into place.

Well, let’s just say I try to explain in a calm, organized fashion. The moment I tell her I’m an Astralite and explain what that is, her limp body turns closer to stone. When I mention that my brother orchestrated the drawing, then tried to terrify her to get her to leave so the property would revert back to him so he could use it as bait again, she sits up. Her face is thunderous as she clutches the bedding around the beautiful breasts she wasn’t afraid to flash me a moment ago.

I feel hopeful as I excitedly assure her that my brother will leave us alone, which I hope is true. As I keep speaking, my mouth making promises I might not be able to fulfill, her face flushes and her fists clench. Her eyes turn to angry slits the moment she realizes I love this place and want to buy out her half when the project is complete. It’s not my imagination that her cheeks are as red as Vortex’s bed.

“Get. Out.” She points dramatically at the front door.

I almost rise to leave, then realize I used the Intergalactic Database to put my apartment out to sublet the moment the paperwork was signed in the attorney’s office. A nice off-world couple from Anthen already signed the lease.

I sit up straight, square my shoulders, and protest, “I’m half-owner of the Interstellar Inn now, Misty. You can’t kick me out. We own it fifty-fifty.”

She sputters, so mad she’s unable to form words.

She stands, making a show of wrapping the bedding around her perfect little human body.

“I’m going to my room where I am assuming no Astralites will be shifting from their spectral forms into my private space. From this momenton, we will only speak when necessary, and only about the Interstellar Inn. Any more funny business, and you’ll be hearing from my lawyer.”

My cock deflated the moment she snarled at me to get out. The rest of my emotions took an extra moment to catch up. Doing the right thing never felt so terrible.

Chapter Seventeen

Misty

It’s been a week since Zylus and I exchanged a word. We point, mime, and use our wrist-comms. We do not speak, share meals, or have direct eye contact.

We wordlessly fight over Vortex’s affections, vying to be the most generous with his littlesmelkasnaps. Although he was underweight when we found him, he’s already getting a bit plump. He’s smarter than I originally realized. The little blue beggar plays us against each other. Our open competition for his affection is going to make him unhealthy.

It quickly became apparent that due to my total lack of construction experience, it would take a year to complete this project. Zylus brought in his crew, who agreed to work at reduced salaries to help us out. We promised bonuses once the inn was bringing in money.

Even with help, this remodel is going to take at least three months. I’m not sure this will remain a bloodless endeavor.

There have been no more spectral visitations, nor have we spent any sexy nights in front of the fire.

I don’t know if Zylus has always worked without a shirt, or if it’s something he’s adopted to tempt me into speaking to him. All I know is, no matter the temperature, every ripple and bulge of his gorgeous green torso is on display. I’m not sure if he does it to turn me on or to irritate me.

Whatever the reason, his presence has me in an almost constant state of desire. His promise to ram, pound, and provide deep, deep penetration rings in my ears as loudly as if he were still saying it.

For a culture that administers contraceptive shots at the grocery store, this planet has a scarcity of vibrators. I had to order one from the Intergalactic Database and am still waiting for the machine’s arrival. I made certain to order one that was described as quiet. Zylus, damn him, has superior hearing.

I’m already developing callouses on my palms from wielding a hammer and have lost all but two fingernails. Not that Zylus seems to notice.

Well, that’s not true. I catch him sneaking glances at me all the time. It’s not anything to brag about. If I catch him staring at me, it means I’m also staring at him.

I’m horny, grumpy, and butt-hurt about the whole situation. I’m still trying to figure out if he’s in on the scheme with his brother, or if he’s telling the truth about being innocent.

Sometimes I’m convinced he knew about it all along. In fact, I wonder if he’s the mastermind. At other times, I tell myself the warm affection in his gaze couldn’t have been faked. I think he was developing feelings for me. Which is crushing, because IknowI was developing feelings for him.

It doesn’t help me keep my emotional distance when he’s so freaking adorable with Vortex, who follows him around like a puppy. Or that he’s friendly and fair with his crew, who talk about what a great boss he is.

All the worry and confusion have sent me into a spiral.

If that wasn’t bad enough, even after all this work, I might not even wind up living here after the remodel is complete. I never would have signed the contract if I’d known how badly Zylus wanted to buy me out and own this place. I’d figured this was just a money-making endeavor for him, not a passion project.

Now, with every nail I hammer and every fixture I install, I wonder if all this work will be for naught. Will I fly home in a few months with a fat check in my wallet and an empty space in my heart?

The days drag on in a blur of sawdust, paint fumes, and tense silence. Zylus and I have become experts at avoiding each other, communicating only through pointed looks and the occasional grunt. It’s like living with a six-foot-tall, green-skinned ghost.

Except ghosts don’t leave half-eaten sandwiches on the counter or use up all the hot water in the shower.

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