Page 6 of Undone
“What?” he managed after a moment. Could Anthony smell himself on him?
Anthony’s nostrils flared. He was frowning when he said, “You don’t have any scent.”
Ah. That.
“I figured it would be easier for you if my scent didn’t aggravate you so much, so I used a scent neutralizer. Found it in the storage room.” The lie was believable, so he expected Anthony to buy it, but the other alpha was still staring at him strangely.
Michael looked away, running a hand through his hair. “Anyway. Now that you feel better, I will work on fixing that communicator. I think I can figure out how to send an SOS to the nearest star system. Someone is bound to pick it up—”
“Michael.”
He looked at Anthony with great reluctance. “What?”
Blue eyes were studying him intently.
Did he remember something, after all?
“Thank you,” Anthony said.
“For what?”
“For putting up with me,” Anthony said with a wry smile. “I was an ass to you yesterday, and I probably wasn’t much better even while I was medicated.”
Nope, you just mounted me and knotted me four times.
Swallowing, Michael let out a laugh that hopefully sounded more sincere to Anthony than it did to his own ears. “You growled and groaned all the time—and stank a bit too much for my liking, but at least you didn’t talk back at me anymore. It was fine.”
That piercing blue gaze bored into him again, making Michael feel uncomfortably transparent. Did Anthony suspect something? Gods, he wouldn’t be able to bear the humiliation if Ant found out. The awkwardness alone would surely ruin their friendship, and the mere thought made his stomach knot up. It wasn’t like he had a lot of friends these days.
“All right,” Anthony said after a moment. “Thanks anyway.”
“It was nothing,” Michael lied, and fled.
His asshole twinged as he strode away, reminding him of—
Nothing.
He wasn’t going to think about it.
***
Michael didn’t think about it.
He didn’t think about it as he worked on fixing their communicator, he didn’t think about it as they grabbed a meal together, he didn’t think about it as they went to their respective cabins to sleep.
He lay in his bunk, staring at the ceiling, still not thinking about it.
Finally, after what felt like hours, he couldn’t do it anymore.
He slipped on his shoes and headed for the ship’s exit.
Sitting down on the ramp stairs, he rested his forearms on his knees and stared out at the landscape.
Night here was never truly dark—the rivers of lava painted the ground in a molten orange-red glow, while a single bright moon cast pale light across the dark purple sky. In the distance, the volcano’s smoke smeared the sky in shades of brown.
“It’s pretty here, isn’t it?”
Michael flinched, cursing the scent neutralizer that he still wore for inhibiting his own sense of smell too. He would have smelled Anthony otherwise.
