Page 22 of Crave
When he gave the rock a gentle pat, Kinsley made a sound his translator couldn’t parse. And when he looked over at her, she was striding away at top speed for her Earther legs, as if there were room on the shuttle for such an escape.
But you…what? What had she been about to say? Hehadn’tgiven her anything besides a moment of blissful release. She couldn’t be mad about that. His readings had been very clear on the importance of providing generous orgasms upon request. Had he missed some crucial element of the interaction? Despite his research, he didn’t have the same knowledge or experiences as her other lovers—or the same body parts, for that matter.
And who had those others been exactly? He had no right to wonder, of course, much less ask—much,muchless seethe about it—but whoever they were, they certainly hadn’t smoothed any of the prickles from this abrasive Earther female. She’d stripped naked in front of him but then shared barely a glimpse of her inner glow before battening down like he was some sort of storm on her horizon.
Perturbed—he’d never been any sort of storm, had never wanted to be a force of destruction—he busied himself at the small galley unit. The shuttle didn’t have much beyond basic bulk nutrition for a work party or emergency run, but it would suffice.
He carried the makeshift meal up to the cockpit where Kinsley hunched in the too-large copilot chair. She was dressed again—sadly, because even if she wouldn’t share her glow, he appreciated the shape of her, all curves and dips—but with her feet drawn up onto the seat, her arms wrapped around her knees, she looked even smaller than little Oliver.
Setting the tray between them, he checked their coordinates. “Still on course,” he announced.
“Then why do I feel like I’m drifting?”
Pausing with his tea halfway to his mouth—he’d decided to forgo Amma’s inebriating yezo—Sil double-checked the star map again. “No. We are right where we’re supposed to be… Ah. You do not mean our actual speed and bearing.”
When she rolled her eyes at him, the arch disdain lacked some of its usual vigor, he felt.
She grabbed the second mug. “Here’s the thing, Sil. I never meant to be here. Nothere-here, but also notjusthere. I didn’t really believe the IDA was sending us off on a spaceship to date aliens, even if fleeing the world was a scam I could get on board with.” She let out a harsh laugh. “Onboard? Yeah. Anyway, turns out, I was wrong—which is kinda my life—and spaceships and aliens are for real. Who could’ve known, right?”
“Me,” he muttered. “I knew. Anybody who looks up at the stars and dreams…”
She ignored his interruption. “Except this spaceship and these aliens, they have their own problems. Which, okay, I’ve always had to deal with crap that isn’t mine coming my way. But now…” Despite its heat, she gulped down the tea as if it were something much stronger. “Now, Ideliberately, of my own free will,choseto get on this little ship with you—”
“A little alien,” he grumbled.
“Withhugeproblems,” she said over him. “And then Isleptwith a problem!”
He sat back. “I am not a problem. I am notyourproblem.”
“But youwouldbe. And we just… Sil, we can’t have that.”
He wanted to be angry. No, he wanted to be dramatically furious, maybe even brooding, like a romance hero should be. Because theycouldhave that. But the way she bit her lip, her brow furrowed, her gray-blue gaze of smoke and alien skies fixed on him like his response was her guiding star.
She was actually being sincere, he realized. As wary and evasive as she was, she truly thought he was a problem, that they were a worse problem together.
And he couldn’t argue with her, not if she felt that way.
“I see,” he said quietly.
She blinked. “You…do?”
“I do not agree,” he clarified. “I do not believe we are a problem now or waiting to happen. But I understand your words and your feelings. And that is what matters.”
She blinked a few more times, the fluttering of her lashes wafting the most diminutive wind his way, as if signaling some infinitesimal shift. “I… It’s not you, it’s me—”
Reaching across the space between them, he unfurled one hand. She fell silent, staring at his empty palm—as if there should be something there? Very slowly, she put her hand in his, barely settling skin to skin.
“I’ve read those Earther words,” he said as he closed his fingers gently. “It’s not you either. Maybe the stars just don’t align for us.”
The glow of space reflected in her eyes. “Sil, you are so nice. And that’s why I’d be terrible for you.”
“I can be not nice.” He narrowed his eyes at her by way of demonstration.
And was gratified when she giggled, a little shakily. “Terrifying.” Squeezing his hand, she let out a little sigh. “Thank you for understanding.”
He did not bother repeating that he didn’t agree. Because thatwasa him problem.
As they ate, he tracked their route past the debris field, but the interference, both physical and electromagnetic, didn’t entirely abate.
