Page 37 of Space for More

I should call this off. The already blurry lines between our mission and my attraction to both of them are vanishing altogether. Mezli’s hastily concocted plan for tonight was for me to get laid and for her to use the fresh decryption key the agents dropped off at my hotel roomto hack into Phelix’s datapads while he’s distracted. It sounded perfect, at least until I lost my mind and asked her to join us. Now it’s devolved into a threesome that doesn’t help with the mission at all.

I want sex, and god, I want it with these two. But can I really prioritize getting laid over galactic security? My gut tells me that Phelix wouldn’t do what the agents claim he’s planning, but maybe that’s just my attraction speaking. Do I really know anything about who he is after a few weeks of chatting about medical equipment and mild flirting?

Mezli raises two empty glasses toward us with a questioning look. “Drinks?”

I shake my head. Some alcohol would help me relax, but I need to clear my head. Which is growing increasingly harder with Phelix so close to me.

“Need to be drunk to stomach being with your mate?” Phelix asks coolly.

She scoffs and downs the glass of wine like it’s water.

“That answers that question.” Phelix steps away, and though his expression is placid, I can tell he’s hurt.

I can’t say I’m not a little hurt, either. Hurt and frustrated that she’s getting drunk when she’s supposed to be my partner on this godforsaken mission.

This was a mistake.

Mezli rollsher eyes at me, setting the wine bottle down. “Relax. I’m not getting drunk.” She pours another glass and refills her own, but not as much as before.

“Could’ve fooled me,” I say, leveling her with a glare to disguise how much her need to be intoxicated hurts. I’m not sure why I expected anything different from thexalawho got wasted and fucked a stranger the night before meeting her mate.

She lets out a humorless laugh. “Just playing into your concept of me. You know, being a drunken slut and all.”

Eden gasps beside me, but I barely register it as realization sets in. I recall the despair-filled conversation I had with my sister when she commed to see how meeting my mate was going.

“I can’t do this, Quila. Goddess, I can’t.”

“Calm down. Take a deep breath and think. Surely your mate isn’t that bad. You’ve only just met her.”

“No, I can’t calm down! I gave up everything for this? She’s barely said two words the whole evening. She can’t keep up with a basic conversation!”

“Phelix. She’s probably terrified and overwhelmed. Meeting your mate is life changing. Give her some time to adjust.”

“That’s not it! I saw her. I was out with work friends last night and saw her. She was shitfaced and crawling all over anotherxala. The night before meeting her mate! I’m supposed to just accept that my mate is a dimwitted, drunken slut?”

My indignant anger bleeds from me, leaving only shame and horror behind. “You… Oh Goddess, that’s why you left. You heard…”

Mezli stares back at me, her expression frigid. “Yep.”

My own stony guard slams down as my mind attempts to block out the pain of knowing for certain thatIwas the reason she ran away. Not my appearance or my family name or Mezli being selfish. My actions cost me my mate. Fuck.

I grit my teeth and brace myself for Mezli to run away again.

Eden shifts beside me, and I reluctantly turn to look at her, ready to see a similar disgust in her eyes. But all that’s there is sadness and concern. She shocks me when she reaches out and places a hand on top of mine.

“Please don’t do that,” she whispers.

“Do what?” I ask, not understanding.

“Shut yourself off. Pretend like nothing is wrong. This is your chance to make things right,” she says, squeezing my hand. Willing me to listen with her reassuring touch.

I freeze. Am I so obvious that this innocent human can read me with such ease?

“I… I can’t,” I whisper.

Eden rolls her eyes at me, surprising me with her reaction again. “Don’t be absurd. If I can travel halfway across the galaxy and be brave enough to have an alien threesome, you can let your guard down for long enough to tell your damn mate that you’re sorry.”

Mezli scoffs. “You don’t know much about nexxit nobility, do you? They don’t apologize. That’d be admitting weakness. Lord Nafar would rather cut off his cocks than admit he fucked up.”

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