Chapter 19
19
H aving Paul pinned beneath me, a flush on his cheeks and his eyes sparkling with frustration—and no small amount of desire—fills me with a heady rush. My body is primed from his caring touch, and any pain in my back has faded to background noise as slick pools between my thighs.
Vash-ka, I want him. I’m tired of fighting my attraction, and having him poke and prod into my psyche has me riled up and in need of release.
He’s here, in my bed. All I have to do is take what I need.
My gaze trails down his chest, where his breaths saw in and out in heavy pants, then down to his groin. I grin when I see the straining bulge of his erection.
He wants this, too.
“No more questions,” I murmur, wetting my lips as I bring my eyes up back to meet his. I watch his pupils blow wider and his plush lips fall open as I slide my hand down from his hip to rest on his thigh, gauging his reaction.
“What are you doing?” Paul asks for a second time.
I let out a soft chuckle and give him a meaningful look. “I want to take care of you.”
Rather than tremble with desire, he rolls his eyes at me. “I don’t want you to touch me because you’re trying to avoid a conversation.”
“Mmm, but won’t this be so much more fun?” I tease.
He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head, his hands coming up to push against my shoulders. “No.”
I freeze, immediately drawing my hand back. The hot stab of dread and rejection bleeds out the arousal that was there a second ago. I shift back off of him, attempting to school my expression into one that isn’t riddled with confusion and shame.
“Apologies, I misread things,” I say as evenly as possible. The only thing that will make this situation worse is if Paul thinks I’m upset with him.
Esh’et , what was I thinking?
Clearly, I wasn’t. He’s stuck here with me, and I’m in a position of power over him. My stomach sours as I reevaluate all our interactions. Has he been humoring my flirtations this whole time because he felt like he had to?
Paul scrubs a hand across his face and lets out a gusty sigh. “Don’t apologize. It’s alright. I know you didn’t mean anything by it.”
I’m unsure how to interpret his words, but maybe he’s trying to play off my advances as me messing with him so that things won’t be unbearably awkward between us now. “Yeah. I’m sorry, it was inappropriate and won’t happen again. You don’t have to worry.”
He sits up and cocks his head at me with a frown. “I’m not worried. I clearly hit a nerve with what we were talking about and pushed it too far. Next time, you can just tell me to back off,” he adds with a weak laugh.
I swallow hard and nod my head like I’ve seen him do frequently to signal assent. “Okay.”
An interminable silence stretches out between us. I can’t meet Paul’s eyes while my insides are twisting into knots, so I stare out the window into space. The ship we were on earlier is a speck in the distance at this point—Rema grabbed the canister for me when she saw I was too hurt to go get it, so there was no point sticking around now that the job is done.
How did Paul and I go from what happened on the derelict ship together to this tension? And how in the void do I get us back to the rapport we were developing?
When I can’t stand the quiet and discomfort any longer, I stand and stretch, then look over at Paul with a smile. “Can we start over?”
He looks up from where he was staring down at the blanket scrunched in his hands. “Huh?”
“I can go out in the corridor, you can pretend you’re passed out, and we’ll start over. Pretend that I didn’t make things weird.”
A small smile curves his lips. “Eh, not sure how well that will work. But there was a game I used to play with my friends growing up whenever one of us got our feelings hurt or made the other person uncomfortable. I feel like in this situation, we both are guilty of that, so it could be helpful.”
“Alright. I’m a fan of games,” I say, gingerly sitting back down on the edge of the bed, careful to maintain a suitable distance from him. He may say he’s not worried about me, but I’m wary of getting in his personal space again.
“I thought you might be.” Paul rolls his shoulders and turns so he’s facing me, and I follow suit. It’s hard to look into his eyes, but I force myself to push down my shame and do it. “It’s pretty simple. We need to look each other in the eyes and take turns saying something we like about the other person and then share something embarrassing or weird about ourselves that we’ve never told anyone before.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Our definitions of what a game is are different.”
He shrugs and looks down at his hands. “We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. It was only a suggestion.”
Vash-ka , now he’s closing off. “I like how you push yourself to try things, even when you’re scared.” I blurt the words out so fast I worry his translator won’t be able to pick them up, but a soft smile spreads across his face and his eyes meet mine, their shining dark depths momentarily entrancing me.
“Thank you, that’s really kind of you to say.” He places a hand under his chin and tilts his head, giving me an evaluating look.
“I know it’s hard to choose only one thing you like about me,” I say with feigned bravado.
“Well, it’s certainly not your humility,” he mutters to himself.
I snort and he grins back at me.
Huh. Maybe this is working.
“I like that you make time to include me, even when it’d be far easier to go about your business and not worry about the human nuisance on your ship.”
“Hey, it’s against the rules to disparage yourself while telling the other person something you like!” I cross my arms over my chest with an overdramatic huff .
Paul shakes his head. “I never said that.”
“Well… it should be. From now on, that’s how it works when you’re playing with me.”
He gives me a slightly bemused look and shrugs. “Okay, if you insist.”
“Say it again, but this time, don’t be mean about yourself,” I prompt.
Paul sighs softly. “I like that you include me in things, even when it’d be easier for you not to.”
“It’s actually quite easy to include you. You’re fun to be around.”
“I doubt?—”
I hold a hand up to stop him. “What did I say?”
He rolls his eyes but doesn’t continue, and I smirk triumphantly.
“Now the embarrassing secret?” I ask. I’m having difficulty coming up with something off the top of my head that I haven’t told anyone since I don’t have much shame.
“Yeah. I can go first, since you said something nice first.” Paul looks away, fidgeting with the blanket as he thinks. “Okay, you can tell me if this isn’t embarrassing enough and I’ll try to think of something else, but when I was a kid, I had an imaginary pet.”
I frown at him. “What kind of secret is that? You’re right, you’ll need to think of something better than that because it isn’t even remotely embarrassing.”
“Hold on, I wasn’t done!” Paul shakes his head at my impatience, but there’s a flicker of a smile at my reaction. “I had it as a kid, and I, uh, I never got rid of it.”
When I give him a blank look, the skin above his beard reddens. “I’m saying I still have an imaginary pet. I talk to it and pretend that it’s with me. Not all the time, but sometimes when I’m feeling really lonely and… you know what, that part doesn’t matter.” He clears his throat, and looks down at his lap.
There’s a flutter of affection and sympathy for this sweet man and his confession. I know I should probably tease him in response, but I can’t bring myself to. It’s too adorable.
“What’s its name? What kind of pet is it?”
He blinks at me a few times, clearly taken aback by my questions. “Uh, Gigi. Short for Georgia. She’s a small white and tan dog with floppy ears and super-soft, fluffy fur.”
My translator doesn’t know what to make of the word “ dog ”, but I can get the general idea from what he’s describing. “Gigi sounds very cute.”
Paul lets out a dismissive laugh. “Thanks. I know it’s ridiculous.”
“Maybe a little, but it’s also very sweet.” Stars, I want to reach out and touch his hand. To let him know he doesn’t need to be embarrassed by this soft, innocent part of himself.
Obviously, I don’t do that. There’s no way I’m touching him now and ruining the comfort we’re nurturing.
“I’m curious… are these dogs uncommon?”
“Eh, not really. Maybe if you’re looking for a very specific breed, but dogs are around on most human colonies and the smaller ones make decent pets even if you’re living on a ship because of their intelligence and obedience capabilities.”
His love for these creatures is clear, and he lights up talking about them. “Then why did you never have one?” As soon as the question is out of my mouth, I regret it. If his parents weren’t willing to care for Paul properly, of course, they wouldn’t have a pet.
Paul sighs. “I begged for one every year growing up, and made these really detailed plans to show that I’d take care of the dog all on my own, but my parents refused because they didn’t want to be responsible for it on the cycles I had treatments. Then I grew up and was so busy trying to establish myself in my career that it seemed selfish to have a pet that I couldn’t devote a lot of attention to. And now, when my life is calm enough that I could handle having a dog, there aren’t any on Spire.” He thinks for a moment and lets out a rueful laugh. “Guess it’s a good thing I didn’t get one, huh? It’d be sitting back at home wondering where the hell I went. I feel bad enough for poor Gigi that I left without saying goodbye.”
It makes sense, but I can’t help the wave of sadness that washes over me as Paul speaks. He tries hard to downplay his loneliness, but the yawning chasm inside me that yearns for companionship recognizes it in his tone and forced levity.
“I’ll apologize to Gigi when I bring you back to Spire. Explain that it wasn’t your fault.”
Paul smiles, the expression a little more genuine now. “That’s sweet of you. She’ll appreciate it.” He shifts onto his side, getting more comfortable. “Alright, I told you mine. Your turn.”
“Hmm… I’ve done a lot of things that could be considered embarrassing, but I tend not to keep them a secret since they make fun drinking stories.”
“Come on, there’s got to be something.” Paul reaches out with his foot and pokes me in the thigh.
I startle at the unexpected contact and a jolt of pleasure follows despite it not being an intimate touch at all. I swallow down the spike of awareness, running a hand through my hair as I pretend to think about a secret instead of how I wish he’d touch me with his weird, stubby toes again.
“I’m thinking!” I huff, pushing back my impulse to poke him back with my foot.
“And that’s difficult for you? ”
Paul’s sass pulls a snort from me. “When I have a human pestering me, it is.”
He laughs and crosses his arms over his chest, watching me silently as I fight to come up with something to share. The first thing that comes to mind is sexual, which won’t work. The second is also sexual. Either I have fucking on the brain or that’s the only area of my life I keep fairly private.
There is something I have told no one other than my family. Though, that secret is less of an embarrassing one, and more something that could damage my reputation. It’s something I was taught from a young age not to discuss, but as Paul sits there, watching me expectantly, the urge rises inside me to confess.
Would it really be so bad for him to know?
My heart rate spikes at the thought of talking about it, but not in an altogether unpleasant way. It’d be nice to tell someone.
“Okay, there is something…” I rub the back of my neck and swallow past the tightness in my throat that comes from years of conditioning telling me to not talk about what I’m about to reveal. “This isn’t embarrassing, but it’s very private. So private that you have to swear to me you won’t tell a soul. Not anyone on the ship. Not your friends. Not even Gigi.”
Paul nods solemnly. “I promise. I won’t tell anyone. It’s also alright if you don’t want to tell me. This is a game to help us feel comfortable, but you’re looking a little sick at the thought of sharing whatever you have in mind. I only want you to tell me if it won’t be upsetting to you.”
“I suppose whether it’s upsetting will depend entirely on your reaction,” I say with a weak smile. Maybe I should take the out and move the conversation to another, safer topic, but now that I’ve considered telling this secret, it presses against my lips, desperate to spill out .
“I’ll keep my reaction as neutral as possible,” Paul reassures me.
“Good.” I clear my throat and take a deep breath. “Ever since I was a kid, I’ve been a little different. It took me a while to realize I was, because all of my older siblings were the same way, so I assumed it was normal.”
Paul’s brows knit together.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, hyper aware of his reactions right now.
“Nothing. I was a little confused because you said all of your older siblings, but you’re Y’thir. Doesn’t that mean you’re the second born?”
His perceptiveness shouldn’t come as a shock, but knowing how intertwined my secret and that question are, I can’t help chuckling at it.
“I’m the youngest of four. My older siblings all displayed certain… talents growing up and were given a different designation to better suit them. I could’ve followed their path, but my, uh, skills were far weaker and I saw how contained and insular their lives were, so I volunteered to be Y’thir. My parents weren’t pleased—they’re bureaucrats with an abundance of resources at their disposal, so they didn’t need a child to go out wandering around the galaxy to send credits home to them.”
I smile as I remember the look on my mother’s face when I told her I’d found a ship and was planning on leaving. Up until that point, they’d humored me, thinking it was a flight of fancy that would pass once I ran into any stumbling blocks. When faced with the reality of me leaving, both she and my father were flabbergasted. They wouldn’t stop me, but it was a huge scandal.
Paul’s eyes go wide as he stares at me in surprise. “Wait, so your space pirate adventure started out because you were a bored rich kid who wanted to get away from home?”
“Hah! Not rich like Mezli or Phelix, but yes. I wasn’t lying when I told you I started out with nothing on my side but delusion. My parents refused to assist me with my reckless decision, so I had to figure everything out on my own. It’s a good thing I met Rema and our friend Frea’set in the used shipyard, or I’d probably still be back on Sela 2, spending my cycles in a dark room in some government building, dreaming of the stars.”
“Wow. That was very brave of you.”
“I like to think so.” I give Paul my best cocky smile.
He rolls his eyes at me. “If you’d stayed on Sela 2, what would your designation have been?”
My stomach clenches at the question. Telling him this will lead me to revealing my secret.
Paul must sense my discomfort, because he frowns and places a hand on his face. “Shit, is that a rude thing to ask? We were talking about it openly, so I assumed it was alright, but you don’t have to tell me.”
“No, no, not rude at all. I would’ve been S’eshala.”
I brace myself for his startled reaction, even though there’s no way he’s heard of that designation, and I highly doubt his translator will be able to parse it.
“You look like you told me they’re part of some organization of assassins. What do S’eshala do?”
When I hesitate, his mouth falls open. “Are they assassins?!”
“No! No, definitely not. They’re not fans of violence at all. They’re more like, uh, intelligence gatherers.”
His eyes go even wider than I thought possible. “Like spies?”
I laugh. “You think I would’ve turned down the chance to be a dashing secret agent like in vids? I would’ve loved that. Sadly, no, it’s much more mundane than that. Mostly talking to people and, uh, reading them.”
“Oh okay. Yeah, I could see that not being a great fit for you. You’re good at talking, but being stuck in one place doing it would become tiresome.” Paul’s smile flickers. “Even I find being in an office all the time too mundane.”
“Yes, exactly.”
A long moment of silence passes as I wait for him to understand what I’m not saying, but he’s not a mind reader.
“Sorry for the tangent. I won’t ask any more questions if you’re ready to tell me your secret.”
My fingers twitch to reach out and take hold of any part of him so I can get a sense of what he’s feeling. To sense if he truly has no clue what I’m about to reveal. But even if I hadn’t touched him inappropriately earlier, he’d be angry when he found out why I was touching him now.
Because I’m an empath. A weak one, needing a physical connection to sense the strongest emotions. But that miniscule ability is enough for most people in the galaxy to mistrust me. Enough that every casual touch could be interpreted as an attempt to invade their thoughts.
All the times I’ve touched Paul flash through my mind. Every time was done out of support or affection, but if he asks me if I’ve used my powers on him, it’d be a lie to deny that it’s never happened.
Vash-ka , what was I thinking? I can’t tell him!
“I’m, uh… I have a very small ability to… that is to say…”
My comm chirps and I almost jump at the interruption. I glance down and see that it’s Rema, who is asking if I want to be there when she opens the canister we found. Nothing urgent.
That doesn’t keep me from using it as an excuse to get out of here. “ Esh’et , I need to go help Rema with something.”
“Is everything alright?” Paul’s worried frown makes guilt swirl in my gut .
“It will be. Don’t worry.”
After all, I’m not going to make the colossal mistake of confessing my abilities. There’s a reason I’ve been told to keep it a secret, and I almost let my one-sided infatuation with him destroy the protective barrier I’ve spent my entire life fine-tuning. I’ve got to be more careful.
Starting now, Paul is just a guest. A platonic roommate. Not a friend. Not a confidant. And definitely not someone I want to fuck on every surface of my quarters.