Page 48 of Her Alien Neighbor

“I shall accompany you,” Axil says, “as your date.”

Um. Okay. It’s not what I expected him to say, but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. He was there the last time I saw Trevor, and obviously, it didn’t go well. But if he’s there, Sam will feel like a third wheel, and I really need to be focused on her, just as I know she’ll be focused on me. If Axil comes, my attention will be split between Sam and Axil while also worrying if Axil and Trevor will throw down, and I’m definitely not in the mood to deal with that.

“That’s really sweet of you to offer,” I reply, choosing my words carefully so as not to hurt his feelings. “But I’ve already told Sam I’d go as her date, and it’s already going to be stressful enough with Trevor there. I think it’s probably best if yo––”

“Trevor is going to be there?” Axil shouts. “No. You cannot go.”

“Excuse me?” I spit back. “I can’t go? You’re actually telling me I’m not allowed to do something?”

Axil’s jaw clenches. “I do not want that monster within a mile of you. After what he has done? Why would you even want to go?”

“I don’t want to go, actually. Sam is going and wants me there for support. I’m doing it for her.”

“Fine,” Axil says, throwing his head back on the pillow, exasperated. “I will have Zev go as Sam’s date, and I shall be yours.”

“Well, no,” I stammer. “That’s not… I wasn’t suggesting we just stick one of your brothers with Sam. She doesn’t know Zev that well, and I doubt she wants him present on a night that’s bound to be filled with awkward small talk and traumatic flashbacks.”

“All the more reason for Zev and me to be there. We can assist both of you during your temporary bouts of insanity.”

Immediately, it’s clear that Axil regrets his words. “No, that is not what I meant. I am sorry. I was simply saying that––”

“You know what?” I say, interrupting. Now I’m annoyed. He apologized, but he still let the words out, and they hurt, especially from him. “It’s fine. But I’m telling you that Sam and I are going to the reunion alone.”

“That is preposterous,” he replies, getting to his feet. He circles the bed and grabs his pants off the floor. “A reunion is a formal event, is it not?”

“I mean, yes,” I say, not knowing where he’s going with this, but finding it odd that he feels the need to confirm what a reunion is. Has he never been to one? Or heard of them?

“Then I should be there. I have seen it many times when a woman is invited to a formal event, and her man goes with her,” he stammers, pulling his pants on.

Seen it many times?What is he talking about? Like, in the movies? Has he never been to a wedding or school dance before?

“Men, if they are good men, accompany their women to such events. And you are my woman, so I must––”

“Whoa, what are you talking about?” I ask, holding up my hands. “Suddenly I’m your woman? Axil, we’ve never discussed labels.”

“Labels?” he asks, creases forming on his brow. “I am not following.”

I stand and pick up my clothes from the floor. If he’s getting dressed, I’m not just going to lie here naked like an idiot. “I’m not your girlfriend. Or your woman. Whatever you’d prefer to call it.”

He jerks back as if he’s been slapped. “How can you say that? After all that has passed between us… You cannot tell me you do not feel what I feel.”

“Look, I don’t know what you’re feeling, and I really like spending time with you.” I put my bra on, backward at first, then I grumble under my breath until I get it right. “Sex with you is also a good time,” I continue, “but that’s all this is. It’s just a casual arrangement that allows both of us to have fun while I’m still in town.”

“Still in town?” he says so quietly I almost didn’t hear him. When his eyes find mine, they’re wide and wounded, filled with emotion he’s trying to contain. “You are still planning on leaving?”

I tug my shirt over my head, and my mouth falls open, but the words don’t come. I hadn’t decided to stay, exactly, and give up on my life in L.A., but I’ve also reached a point where I’m not particularly eager to go back. “I…I don’t know,” I finally reply, giving him the most honest answer I can.

He rubs his eyes, then runs a hand through his hair as his gaze drops to the plush, light gray carpet that matches his eyes. Except that, right now, his eyes are much darker, stormier gray than usual. He turns away from me and leans his hands on the windowsill, his head hanging in defeat. Eventually, he opens the window and deeply breathes in the cool air filling the room.

I want to go to him. I want to wrap my arms around his middle and tell him it’ll be all right, that I’ll stay, and we can be together. But that would be a lie. There’s nothing I can do to comfort him right now and I hate it.

When he lifts his head, he turns and looks at me over his shoulder. “So leave.”

“What?” I ask, unsure I heard him correctly.

He stands, grabs the letter off the bookcase by the door, and shoves it into my hands. “You wish to go? Then go.”

His face hardens, the warmth in his gray eyes from earlier now completely gone. There’s nothing left but resentment and disappointment. “Axil,” I begin, but nothing follows, because I have no clue what to say. I just know I don’t want him to keep looking at me like I’m his worst enemy.

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