5. CHAPTER FIVE
Security walked me through the connecting corridor that linked the hotel to the arena, like I was a parcel that needed a signature and maybe a biohazard label. We passed through the main lobby, which had glass elevators, glittering chandeliers, and a long line at check-in.
My body was marching along behind the same very serious guards, but my brain was still fifteen minutes in the past, replaying the feeling of Zhari’s mouth on mine.
Kiss one. Rewind. Play. Replay.
It was like some broken music loop I couldn’t eject. She had kissed me. Not once, but twice. The most famous extraterrestrial in several star systems had pulled me in and kissed me like she’d been waiting years.
There was absolutely no way I was ever going to act normal again.
“The temporary access code expires shortly, so make sure to use it right away to lock it in,” the guard on my left was saying.
“Yep, okay. I can do that,” I said, barely registering what they’d said.
We stopped at an unmarked door. The guard tapped a panel, the lock flashed green, and the door slid open with a sigh. They handed me a slim card that glowed faintly at the edges.
“Your bag and suitcase have been brought up,” they recited. They gestured for me to enter the hotel room. “Ms. Lumis will join you when she is done with the post-show stream.”
“Cool… great. Thanks,” I muttered under my breath.
They both smiled at the same time and then left. I turned around and walked into the suite.
I was still so starstruck. How could this be happening to me? Thomas was going to lag when he heard about this.
I pushed up the sleeve of my jean jacket and tapped my comm. I scrolled for Thomas’s name and started typing.
ME: You are never going to believe what I am doing right now. I just met Zhari AND got invited to stay over in her hotel suite for the night. Will message you later.
I hit send and immediately got a message back from Thomas.
THOMAS: What? Are you joking? If you’re not, that is so crazy! Talk soon.
I stood there with my heart pounding and let out a sound that wasn’t a language. It was like the noise a computer made when you opened too many programs and it just gave up.
I looked around the enormous suite.
It was ridiculously enormous. One entire wall was a single sheet of glass, with the city of Lumara spilling beneath it in layers of violet and crystal.
In the center sat a smooth, round coffee table, its surface catching the light from the city.
Plush bedding spilled over the edges of the oversized bed, which was framed by cute white nightstands with ambient lighting that glowed softly and warmly instead of harshly.
A sleek dresser stood opposite the bed, with a plasma screen hovering just above it, dark and glossy as if it were waiting to wake up.
Across from the bathroom, a compact kitchenette tucked into the corner held a glossy white counter, a tiny sink, and a neatly arranged row of chrome appliances that looked too pretty to actually use.
The vanity near the bathroom was still cluttered with brushes and palettes from earlier, smudges of shimmer like fingerprints left by a star.
And there was one bed.
The bed was huge. It was half the width of my entire childhood bedroom, covered in a fluffy duvet that looked extremely soft and plush.
“Okay. One bed. That’s fine,” I whispered.
My bag and suitcase sat in the corner, pushed up against the wall. I crossed toward them, uncrossed, crossed again, and then sank onto the couch like my legs had forgotten how to leg.
“Oh my God, you’re in her room,” I muttered into my hands. “Get it together, Vada. You’re an adult. Adults don’t hyperventilate because they’re having a sleepover with a celebrity and the suite just happens to have one bed.”
I shook my head and looked around.
I did not get it together.
I sat there for what must have been twenty minutes, cycling through emotions like channels. I was in shock, giddy, terrified, horny, nauseous, and then back to shocked again.
Did I mention horny?
I thought about messaging my mum and then instantly imagined her going into cardiac arrest.
So I did nothing. I curled my knees up, pressed my forehead to them, and breathed.
A soft chime startled me so badly that I almost fell off the couch.
“Vada?” Zhari’s voice came through the panel, muffled but unmistakable. “It’s me.”
My knees went wobbly with nerves as I pushed myself up. I still couldn’t believe I was having a sleepover with Zhari Lumis. I walked across the room and reached for the door, but it chimed and slid open before I could touch it.
“Oh,” I said, startled.
She stepped inside barefoot, her hair slicked back in a loose braid. She’d changed into loose pants and a soft top that exposed one shoulder.
In her hands, she balanced two steaming cups and two bottles tucked under her arm.
“Nebs and Starlust,” she declared, holding them up like offerings. “Sleepover essentials.”
“Mmm, Nebs. I had some before the show at a little hole-in-the-wall place, and they were so good.”
“Yes, they are my favorite. They’re like your ramen on Earth,” she said, grinning. “Even though I have never been to Earth, there are plenty of vendors who sell Earth food on Vela. It is nothing compared to ours.”
“Totally,” I said. “My friend Pia’re said the same thing earlier, and I agree. Nebs are way better. I didn’t realize you could get so many toppings.”
“Oh, yeah. There are tons. One of my favorites is spicy J’ynthe. It’s a type of sea creature.” She licked her lips and smiled. "I've also decided to call you my little noodle. I feel it is very fitting, Nebs are my favorite and now you are," she beamed.
"Oh, okay that's fine," I said.
She walked over to the coffee table and set everything down. Then she paused and looked around, following my gaze to the bed. Her shoulders dipped.
“I should say,” she began carefully, “there is only one bed. It is… a standard suite.”
My stomach performed a small, terrified cartwheel.
“I noticed.”
Her gaze slid to the bed, then back to me. “I will not pretend I am upset,” she said, her lips curving. “I have spent an unreasonable amount of time imagining what it would be like to sleep beside my fated mate. Now the universe has delivered one very large bed and you… in pajamas.”
My pulse tripped over itself.
“Right. Well. I’m fine with it if you are. It looks comfy.”
She watched me for a moment, as if she were memorizing every flicker of my expression. Then her smile went a little sharper, a little wicked.
“I am very excited to be this close to you,” she said softly. “But I can behave.” Her eyes dipped to my mouth and back. “We can share the bed, and I will keep my hands and aura where you want them.”
“For now,” I whispered. “I appreciate you being patient.”
Her dual-pulse brightened slightly on her neck.
“When you decide you want more,” she said, her voice dropping to a delicious purr, “I promise you will not have to ask twice.”
Oh boy.
My entire nervous system lit up. I wanted to sleep with her so badly. All those years fantasizing about what it would be like to be with her, to touch her, to taste her.
But what if we accidentally bonded? It was so permanent and so scary. Would it be so bad if I just bonded with her?
I didn’t know what to do, but I decided to try to stay in the present and enjoy this slumber party. I let out a long sigh and a partial smile.
She walked over to the kitchenette and grabbed some utensils from the drawer. Then she walked back to the Nebs and gestured for me to sit down. We both sat on the floor in sync, cross-legged.
The mugs glowed a soft pink-violet, steam curling up in lazy spirals. She slid one toward me along with an iridescent glass bottle.
“I added comet spice,” she said. “When I went down to order our food from the hotel kitchen, they didn’t have many options. Tell me if it is too much. I do not fully understand your human tongue’s resilience. Among other things.” She teased me with a smile.
“My tolerance for spice is pretty high,” I said, wrapping my hands around the warm ceramic mug. It was huge, the perfect size for ramen or soup. “I live alone and eat my feelings a lot.”
“Ah.” She nodded as if this were sacred knowledge. “Solo dining as emotional regulation. A universal language.”
The utensils were familiar enough, except the fork only had two prongs, making it more of a precision tool than a fork. I took a bite, and the heat hit fast, bright, and fizzy on my tongue.
“Okay, wow,” I coughed around a mouthful of noodles. “Comet spice really… arrives.”
Her eyes widened. “Too much?”
I picked up the Starlust bottle. “Not at all,” I mumbled as I took a gulp, the bubbles instantly popping at the back of my throat. “It’s perfect. It’s like Earth’s chili powder’s hot cousin who studied abroad and got interesting.”
She tossed her head back and laughed.
“I will tell the hotel chef he has surpassed an entire planet.”
We ate. The suite hummed softly around us with distant machinery and the muted thud of equipment being loaded somewhere below. Beyond the glass, traffic moved in threads of blue and white.
Inside, it was just the two of us, the glow of broth, the warmth of spice, and the quiet awareness of the one bed.
After a while, caught somewhere between too many glances and not enough, I couldn’t hold the question in any longer.
“I want to ask you something,” I said, setting my utensil down before I dropped it.
She looked up at once, giving me her full attention.
“Ask.”
“The aura thing,” I said. The word felt ridiculous in my mouth, like I was talking about a horoscope instead of my entire life doing a cartwheel. “Is it—can we talk about it?”
I lowered the bowl to my lap.
“Just… is it real? Actually real? Not a line you use on hot human girls to get them into bed?”
She set her bowl on her lap too and stared into it, swirling her fork back and forth.
“It is real. It is a Velan bond phenomenon we call Sola-Ka, remember? Our bodies recognize a compatible pattern.” She looked up at me, her eyebrows scrunched together. “I would not have kissed you if it were not.”