Page 26 of Alien Warrior Chef… With Benefits
I exhale through my teeth. Damn it.
“I—um... you said to pivot on the strike and lead with the hip rotation, but... I wasn’t sure if I’m doing it right.”
His voice trembles at the edges, more mouse than warrior. The others behind him are stone silent, pretending to focus on their own forms, but I can feel the room tightening. My fury is not justfelt—it’s smelled. The sharp, sour musk of discomfort clings to the dojo like fog.
I step back. “Continue your drills.”
“Yes, Master.”
They scatter like leaves before a storm. I deserve their fear. No instructor worth their skin lashes out like that. Not over a question. Not toward a student. But I’m not thinking like a warrior today. I’m not thinking at all.
Because all my thoughts areher.
The door slams open without warning. I know it’s her before I even turn.
“Are youkiddingme right now?” Lyrie strides into the training hall like she owns the air and the sunlight. Pink scales shimmer beneath her barely-there wrap, and her tail flicks with agitation. “Snapping at students? Glowering like the world pissed in your tea? What iswrongwith you?”
I grunt and turn away, letting my fists rest on my knees.
“No answer? Typical. Vakutan males and their melodrama. You’re worse than humans.”
“I’m busy.”
“No, you’reavoiding.” She crosses her arms, hip cocked. “You haven’t set foot in Earth Bites infive days. You think she hasn’t noticed? You think the rest of us haven’t?”
My silence is answer enough.
She stalks forward, stopping just short of my reach, not that I’d ever harm her. But I think she wants me to think she’s in danger. She wants the drama.
“She wore adresstoday,” Lyrie says, each word sharp as a slap. “Blue. The kind that clings. The kind that madeeveryonestop and stare when she bent to pull a tray from the oven. She even curled her hair. You know how long that takes with those little metal rods?”
My throat is dust. I force myself to swallow.
“Shebakedyour damn muffin herself. You know she never bakes the morning batch. That’s Vonn’s job. But no. She got up early, measured everything by hand, burned her thumb, and still did it. Then shewaited.All morning. Right at the counter.”
I close my eyes. That image—her behind the register, face hopeful, chin tilted up every time the door chimes—it lands like a blade.
“She said you might come in,” Lyrie continues, voice quieter now. “She had that little smile. The one that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. And then she waited until close, boxed the muffin, andleft it on the counter like an idiot. Vonn threw it away.”
I exhale a ragged breath. My hands shake.
“Don’t make her chase you,” Lyrie says finally. “She’s had to wait long enough for happiness.”
I look up.
Her face is different now—no flirtation, no sparkle, just raw exasperation. The kind born of watching someone you care about suffer in silence.
“She’s not a warrior,” I say at last.
Lyrie cocks an eyebrow. “That’s the best you’ve got?”
“She’s not built for war. For...me.”
“She’s built for love, you idiot. And she wantsyou. Why is that so hard for you to believe?”
I stare at the floor.
“Because I don’t deserve her.”
