Page 16 of Scars & Starlight
“Obvi!” he replies in his Valley Girl voice, and I burst out laughing. Kiko hops up and down again, seemingly pleased to have elicited the reaction.
I slap my hands on my thighs and get up again, this time in a less frenzied manner. “All right,” I say decisively. “Let me take care of my morning bathroom stuff, and we can get this meeting your commander wants out of the way so I can return home.”
Halfway to the bathroom, I realize Kiko is following me. When I stop, he stops. When I turn around, I see he’s staring at me.
“It’s okay, buddy, I got this one alone,” I tell him gently.
The robot hangs his head dejectedly anyway. It’s just like having a needy cat. I guess the upside is that he (hopefully) doesn’t have to mark his territory by peeing everywhere.
Speaking of peeing.
I rush through my morning routine, made weird to the nth degree by the alien surroundings, trying to remember everythingKiko told me last night. As soon as I’m done, a chiming sound comes from the direction of the door.
“Um, come in?” I invite uncertainly. Kairen didn’t say if he’s going to put any guards by my door. Though I’m guessing would-be attackers aren’t about to ring the doorbell.
My fears are laid to rest as soon as the commander’s imposing frame fills the doorway. His eyes are gentle when they meet mine, as is his smile. Butterflies take flight in my stomach when his pearly whites are exposed and the grin reaches his eyes.
Bruh. It should be illegal to be this hot.
“Good firstlight, Tara.”
Scratch that. His voice is not only illegal, it’s lethal.
“Good… firstlight, Kairen,” I reply haltingly. “We say morning,” I add. “Good morning.”
His brow furrows. “What are you mourning?”
I open my mouth to correct him, then decide it’s not important right now. “Never mind. Are we good to go?”
It’s then that I notice his clothes are a lot different from what they were last night. He’s now wearing what could almost be described as black cargo pants and a beige army jacket with a really thin black shirt peeking through at his collar and sleeves.
I bet he pulls any look off, like a runway model.
“Yes,” he drawls out. I look up to see him smirking at me. He totally just caught me ogling him. “This way, Princess,” he says smugly. There’s that skin-tingling nickname again.
Rubbing my arms, I follow the commander and try not to stare at his ass. Kiko’s right beside me, after all, and he seems to notice everything. Between the two of them, I might as well look at my feet the entire time.
When did you turn into such a lech, Tara?
I mean, the apocalypse made for slim pickings, and the alien is beyond beautiful, but I’ve never spent my time thinking with nothing but my vagina before.
“Did you sleep well?” the object of my daydreams asks, giving methat gentle smile, which I’m slowly coming to learn graces his face often. Or at least it does when I’m around to see it.
“I did, actually,” I admit. “Maybe it’s because I wasn’t on pins and needles, waiting to hear alarms going off for the first time in four years.”
I don’t get a chance to take in his immediate reaction to my words because a group of aliens approaches from the opposite side of the corridor. Staring in fascination, I note the different eye and hair colors; the nuances are stunning. They’re all taller than me, though that’s not hard to achieve. Two of them are male and one is female, and all three are staring in our direction.
“Good firstlight, Your Highnesses,” the female says, bowing her head in our direction. I twitch my lips into a smile and try to keep the frown off my face. Are these nanite mites in my brain malfunctioning already?
“Good firstlight, Eira,” Kairen says back. “Jorik, Sorin,” he greets the males next. One has incredible silver eyes that capture me for a minute. I imagine that’s how stardust would look if it were a tangible thing and not a metaphor for our beginnings.
When we’re past the aliens and I think they’re out of hearing range, I ask Kairen about the odd way Eira addressed us. “Why did she call us–”
“In here,” he interrupts with a tight smile. He’s pointing through a doorway where a conference table surrounded by several Avaren waits for us. I swallow the lump that suddenly appears in my throat. Through everything, I wasn’t thinking about this part; talking about Earth with a bunch of extraterrestrial officers. And they’re all superiorly good-looking. I feel like the ugly duckling in a flock of swans.
Glavo gor, mala, I tell myself.Keep your chin up, little one.
“Hi,” I greet them, then wince, thinking about the morning/mourning thing. “It’s how we say ‘hello’,” I rush to add. “I’m not saying something is high. Even though you guys are. Tall, I mean. You’re allsotall.”
