Page 34 of Her Alien Librarian

“How long are you home for?” Mom asks, leaning in and taking my hands once more. “A while?”

Her dark brown eyes swirl with hope, and her smile is so light, so free of any burden, that I wish I could grab my phone and take a picture of her without her noticing. I want to remember her just like this. Relaxed, elated, and excited to sit on an old couch and gab with her younger sister.

“Yeah,” I say, biting my lip to hold back tears. “I’m not going anywhere.”

CHAPTER 10

MYLO

It takes about ninety minutes to drive from Sudbury to the Kearsarge Hotel and Resort where Nate’s wedding is being held, and to my surprise, Samantha holds my hand the entire way. She lets out a deep exhale every so often, making me think she is quite nervous about seeing her ex-husband and his family. Her brother, Marty, has offered to drive us there, so we sit in the back seat together, her small fingers tightly entwined with mine.

Marty was not pleased to sit alone in the front of the car, but Samantha immediately told him to “get fucked” and that he should be grateful she’s attending at all.

The bond she shares with her brother seems somewhat volatile. They go from yelling at each other one minute to giggling about an inside joke the next. But the way he eyes me suspiciously in the rearview mirror each time he catches me staring at her legs tells me he’s protective of his older sister, and that pleases me greatly. The more people Samantha has in her life to lift her and keep her safe, the better.

We arrive shortly before dusk, grabbing the keys to our rooms and dropping our bags before heading to the ceremony area. I made sure Marty’s room was on the opposite end of the hall from ours, so he could not hear us…enjoying ourselves later on.

We take our seats in the very back row of white chairs, and Sam remains stiff and anxious throughout the ceremony, which drags on for much longer than feels necessary. Luckily, it takes place outdoors, and the sounds of nature buzzing in the trees paired with the spectacular view of the rocky cliff face are enough to occupy my attention.

“Seriously?” Samantha scoffs when the ceremony ends, and we get in line for drinks during cocktail hour. “A cash bar.”

There is a bar inside the building where the majority of the reception is being held, as well as one outside for those who wish to drink and play lawn games in the vast patch of grass below. Inside, there is a DJ and a large dance floor in the center of the room, surrounded by several round tables adorned in crisp white tablecloths, gold napkins and flatware, and bursts of magenta in the centerpiece flowers with neatly tied bows around the vases.

“Is this not customary?” I ask. I have seen several weddings on television, but this is the first big wedding I have attended. Luka and Harper’s wedding was lovely, but it was just me, my brothers, and Harper, so there was no need for a bar.

“It’s cheap,” she says, shaking her head. “But Nate’s always been cheap.”

I look around at the venue and out the many large windows at the lush, manicured landscapes, the hundreds of twinkly lights strung up in the trees, and the breathtaking view of the mountainside behind us. “This does not seem like an inexpensive place to wed.”

“Oh, it’s not,” Marty says, rocking back on his heels as he takes in the view.

“Yeah,” Samantha agrees, her scowl deepening. “He splurged on the venue but is making his guests pay for the booze. That tracks.”

She is in quite a sour mood, it seems. I hold her gaze as I try to determine how to lift her spirits. That seems to pull a smile forward. “Sorry,” she says, rubbing her forehead, “I don’t mean to be a dick. I’m just tired.”

I place my hand on her lower back and lightly rub a thumb up and down her spine. “You have not been sleeping well?” This surprises me, given that she has canceled our secret sex meetups every night this week because she was tired. I assumed she was catching up on her sleep, not losing more of it.

Samantha shakes her head. “It’s fine, really. I’m fine. I just need to get a drink in me, and we can start enjoying this night.”

That does seem to work. Samantha downs two gin and tonics in a matter of minutes and urges me to keep up. I pull her close. “Alcohol does not affect me the same way. I will need to consume much more to feel the same as you.”

At the bar, she orders four shots of tequila, takes one for herself, and pushes the other three into my hands. “Then get to it, Marco.”

I cannot help but laugh at her eagerness to see me buzzed. “As you wish, Sidney.” The taste is terrible, and my throat burns after each gulp. Why do humans choose to drink such acrid swill?

Marty spends most of the reception by our side at our designated table in the far back of the room but wanders off on his own whenever Samantha and I huddle close together. Her focus is entirely on me, and her hands never seem to leave my body. They encircle my arm as she leans her head on my shoulder, wrap around my neck when we dance, and the rest of the time, her fingers thread through mine as if she is nothing but proud to have me as her date.

The feeling is mutual. I love being able to touch her freely. She doesn’t protest when I pull her onto my lap and feed her steak and potatoes from my plate.

“I have my own dinner, you know,” she says, wiping the corner of her mouth.

“But you need your strength for later.”

She giggles as she playfully pokes me in the ribs.

“You honor me,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to her brow as we sit at the table, watching as the other guests dance, eat, and drink around us.

She draws back to look at me. “How so?”

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