Page 12 of Clonely You

Oh. I decide I’m not a huge fan of this Lady Ruth person. “Not everyone wants a ball-busting alpha.”

He leans in even closer, his lips brushing against my ear. “I am glad, because I am not entirely sure what that is.”

I smother a giggle. I will say one thing about Aithar. He’s made me laugh and I feel as if I haven’t laughed in years. Is it wrong to want to smile when I’m around him? I pat his arm. “You’re a good guy. That’s what’s important.”

“What’s important is that you think so,” he replies, solemn. “Your perspective is the most vital.”

I say nothing to that, but my skin prickles with awareness of his nearness. This is the closest I’ve been to anyone in years, and…I don’t hate it. Aithar is comfortable to be around. He’s tall and his shoulders are broad, but he’s not a wall of muscle like some of these aliens I’ve seen walking around in Port. He’s leaner, like a streamlined swimmer, and even if his features remind me of the hated guy that stole Rafaela, his bright, open eyes make me comfortable right away. I could absolutely see dating someone like him if we’d met under different circumstances…or if I was interested in dating at all.

I don’t know why Ruthie or this Lady Ruth person were so weird about it.

“Ah, here is Ruth-Ann,” Aithar mentions, and steers me across the room…to meet the same woman I had just talked to.

I blink in surprise as I stare at the features of this new woman. She looks just like Ruthie but has no piercings. Instead of a short mohawk, her hair is silky and flat, a black bob that swings above her shoulders. She’s a human of Asian descent, but I could swear that she’s the same age and height of the other woman. She holds a datapad tucked under her arm, and her clothes are plain but well-kept. I glance over my shoulder at Ruthie and note the similar names. “Is everyone here a clone?”

“What?” Aithar blurts out, shooting a look at the new woman. “I did not say that!”

I gesture at Ruthie, across the room. “But?—”

“Not a clone,” the new woman says smoothly and holds her hand out. “Triplets. I’m Ruth-Ann. Ruth and Ruthie are my sisters.”

“Oh. Wow. Okay.” I shake her hand, feeling awkward. “Sorry I called you a clone.”

“It’s not an insult. A triplet is just a clone in the womb, right?” A little smile curves her mouth, her features otherwise serious, and I see a slight difference now. Ruthie was a morenervous sort, a little more high-strung. This woman is cool and calm, unruffled. “But I can see how the names would be confusing.”

“Aithar mentioned his friends were clones,” I say, glancing at him. “I assumed.”

“I said the a’ani were clones,” he quickly corrects. “It is just a marvelous coincidence that Ruth-Ann and Ruthie and Ruth are human triplets.”

“That’s definitely quite the coincidence,” I murmur. All with variations of the same name. But I’m not about to pry. Not my circus, not my zebras, as my mama used to say. “It’s nice to meet you, Ruth-Ann. Are you staying here on Risda with the other human refugees?”

“I haven’t decided.” She tucks her hair behind her ear and shrugs. “I told Zaemen and Erzah that I’d help with the cantina, and this seems as safe a place to settle as anywhere.”

“I’m told it’s safe,” I agree. “And it’s been quiet since I came here. I just…”

“Don’t entirely believe it?” Ruth-Ann gives me an understanding look. “It takes a while for the anxiety to fade away. For you to feel safe. I get it.”

“I might not feel safe until my sister’s brought here. You’re lucky that you have yours at your side.” Hot grief threatens to swamp me, and I suddenly want to run out of the room and close myself back in at my dairy. Drown myself in work and not think about anything. If I’m too tired to think, I’m too tired to fret over Rafaela’s fate.

A hand touches my shoulder and gently rubs my back. Aithar. “Can I get you a drink, Michaela? Or a snack?”

It’s a good distraction at the perfect time. I manage a small smile for him. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“You and Aithar, huh?” Ruth-Ann glances between us. “You’ll forgive us if we all seem skeptical.”

I freeze up. Are they skeptical because they know why I’m going out with him? Because I felt like I had to? I feign ignorance, though. “Oh?”

Ruth-Ann gives another one of those faint smiles, and I get the impression of someone tightly self-contained but doing their best to hide it. “It seems fast. He falls in love easily.”

“I have a lot of love waiting to be given,” Aithar says, voice cheerful, and he doesn’t seem upset by Ruth-Ann’s comment. It bothers me, though, and I’m not sure why. It’s not a slam on me, but it feels like a strange comment for a friend to be making. Then again, maybe it’s because they’re friends that she feels she can comment on the speed of his relationship.

“I see.”

Aithar touches my elbow. “Come and meet Dopekh. He is my brother-clone from the same place.”

We head over to a table, where a big, broad-shouldered alien is working with a blowtorch on some metal. He glances up as we approach and flips up the guard over his face, beaming at us. “You have brought a friend, Aithar!”

I freeze in place, because this man reminds me of my hated enemy. He’s broader than Aithar, and his gaze isn’t nearly as friendly, his features similar enough that I feel like I’m looking at Aithar’s brother…or the man I’ve been dreaming of confronting for years. His hair is a bit longer and he looks tougher overall. Tense, I glance down at his hands.

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