Page 34 of Crave

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“Not risking that again,” she muttered.

The image on the datpad flickered. She didn’t recognize the new picture, not exactly, although the flexing pecs were familiar enough. She snorted. “Are you going through Sil’s romance novels?”

She’d have to warn him not to connect Roxy to anything important. Who knew what a lonely pet rock would do at the controls of theDeepWander.

What, like, sign them all up for a cosmic love fest and seek their fate among the infinite stars?

Oops, too late.

She made herself comfortable next to Roxy and settled down to read.

***

Grams had tutted when she discovered Kinsley sneaking away with her romance novels. “You’re too young to read these,” she fretted as she collected them up against the bosom of her housecoat. “Interpersonal communication. Personal growth. Love as the practice of freedom, as bell hooks would say. It’s just not realistic.”

“Then why do you read them?”

Grams sighed. “Because they’re not realistic.”

She’d made Kinsley promise not to read the good parts.

Kinsley had, of course, ignored her grandmother’s rule, but as she read from cover to cover—twice on the good parts—she wondered about those unrealistic moments: the multiple orgasms, never needing to pee or brush teeth, everything turning out okay in the end. Not that it mattered, since she’d basically forgotten all books when she’d gone to work for her uncle.

Finding such stories again out here in deep space seemed about as improbable as the number of couples who randomly wandered into each other again after one-night stands.

Although maybe in space where night was longer…

It must’ve been late—although she’d lost track of time, embroiled in a why-choose sensual adventure—Sil had proved gratifyingly egalitarian in his research choices—when Sil returned with a half-filled tray. “Thank you for preparing the meal.”

She shrugged one shoulder. “Got hungry, but I didn’t want to bother you.”

He echoed her gesture, and she wondered if he was being as cagey as her. “I’ve confirmed all the repairs. And the agglomerator has collected as much of the debris as possible, given the shuttle’s limited tools.” He continued to stand there.

“Eat,” she said gently. “And then we’ll go do your thing.”

He looked down at the tray his hands. “I don’t know if I can.”

“You just open your mouth—”

With one hand he set the tray aside and with another hauled her to her feet up against his chest for a long, searching kiss.

She was gasping when he lifted his head.

“Open like that?” His pearly eyes were half closed and darkened with some emotion as unclear to her as the programming of a universal translator.

She gazed up at him. “Maybe,” she drawled. “Better try again.”

She met him with a ferocious kiss of her own, knowing it all might be a mistake—or, for once, it might work, she might finally make the score of a lifetime—claim an alien fortune and then…

“Lights together,” Roxy interrupted.

Maybe it was just her imagination, or maybe he still wasn’t quite ready to do his thing, but she thought Sil was slow to release her. Her own hands should’ve fallen away twice as fast since she only had half as many, but she too clung for an extra heartbeat.

Together, they went into the small working bay at the back at the shuttle. The agglomerator was basically an elaborate vacuum, sucking material from space, and then sorting roughly by size, weight, and composition into various transparent collection tubes. Or so Sil had explained earlier. To her, it all looked like the same chunks of pebbles and dust in various shades of gray.

But Sil chose one of the cylinders and took it to the cramped workbench.

“The stone singers of legend didn’t just make diamonds and osmium and mimeticphyre. Anyone can grow gemstones.”