Page 23 of The Alien's Little Sister

“What is this?” Her gaze bounces from my eyes to the plastic hiding her gift.

“Something I think you’ll like,” I tell her.

She’s overcome with the fact that I bought something for her. “Matt! Oh my stars—you shouldn’t have obtained a gift for me—”

Her shining eyes and awestruck face make me smile. I brush her hands away from the bag and haul out the iSquid. “You don’t even know what it is yet. Here. It plays music.”

Her clawed hand presses to her chest. “I think my hearts just stopped. You got me a gadget to play Earth music?”

“Yeah,” I murmur. “You were having so much fun with my stereo, I got you a little one you can take anywhere. Once I get the effing packaging off, geez. I need my knife—”

Immediately, she’s sticking her tailblade in my face.

“Damn,” I say, eyes flying to hers. “This is handy.”

She smiles at me shyly. “It actually is.”

“No, I believe it.” I hold up the clamshell plastic and indicate where she should slice it. “Get it here and I can peel it open, please.”

Grabbing up the pre-paid song card she’ll need, I’m about to show her how to load songs on the thing—I listened for like three full minutes as the clerk gave me the low-down on how to do it as I also watched with furious intensity as Inara got mobbed by guys who were fawning and slobbering over her (which reminds me... I think we need to switch her into some sort of robe-like costume. Something neck to ankle-length. I’m going to suggest a nun’s cassock.). I’m about to employ my sketchy second-hand knowledge of how to manage the song selection when Inara deftly traverses the menu and gets there all by herself.

“You can read English?” I ask.

“Of course. I was thrilled the day reading abilities became available through the translator upgrades,” she gushes. Her eyes are all for the tiny screen. “Oooh, what do I like?”

“You can probably find a sample off to the side—”

Music starts to play, proving she’s found it before I could get out my suggestion. “It’s like you come from a technologically advanced society and you’ve got this aptitude for gadgets I should probably remember to respect,” I say to no one.

Inara laughs.

My heart squeezes like it gets sucker punched. And itlikesthe feeling.

Wisely, I do not look over at her. I buckle up and remind her to do the same as I put the car in gear with the intent to back us out of our spot and drive us to work.

Because I’m avoiding the sight of her pretty face as the sound of her pretty laughter bounces between my ears and travels down to the center of my chest like I’m a tuning fork, I don’t see it coming when Inara leans in and kisses me.

Just the side of my face. It’s quick, and there’s no heat—it’s just a peck of thanks. It’s gratitude. It’s… sweetness.

My heart does a weird thing.

It flops like a fish that’s been hooked and tossed on the bank.

I drive all the way to work, but my heart never does make it back into the big lake of freedom. I risk one glance—just one—at Inara, and our gazes instantly lock.

She grins at me, earbuds in her long ears, her reflective eyes shining and bright with thrill.

And the moment our eyes connect, it’s official. I’m a goner for an alien.

Of course, it’ll take me a little time before I fully realize that.

CHAPTER 12

The next forty-five minutes fly by with me in some kind of daze more appropriate for Bambi-the-damn-cartoon-deer than me, Matt, full-grown human man.

Because I think I’m twitterpated.

I don’t remember much of the drive—except for Inara thanking me sweetly.Throatily, in her alien sex-kitten voice.But we somehow arrive at work.

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