15 Too Good for This World #2
“Oh, come now, we’ve been here a million times before.” Spie patted the mattress beside her. “Want me to trim your hair before this evening’s interview?”
Nicky crossed the room in three strides and perched on the bed’s edge, angling his body to face her. “I think I like it a little long.”
Spie brushed her hand through the hair falling across his forehead. “You nervous?”
He knotted his hands together, the leather of his gloves creaking. “Very. You? What am I asking. Of course you’re not. You probably want to make a bet for how many of the contestants you can sleep with before filming ends.”
“Now, that’s an idea.” But Spie’s heart wasn’t in the banter.
“Speaking of...” A faint tremor shook Nicky’s voice. “I finally decided on what I want for winning our last bet.”
“Did you actually win, though? Technically speaking, I had the good doctor exactly where I wanted her.”
“Technically speaking, you didn’t finish the job.”
“Semantics.” Spie recalled the deep crimson flush of Trash Girl’s cheeks when she’d walked in on Spie in the process of finishing the job. Seeing the X-er’s utter embarrassment might’ve been worth the loss. “Fine. Name your heart’s desire, baby brother.”
Nicky adjusted his position on her bed, the mattress bending to accommodate his weight. “If we ever disagree on sending someone home, you’ll concede the decision to me. Whether to send them or keep them.”
Spie raised an eyebrow. “And if I’m connecting with someone you want gone?” This was no small ask. Love Galaxy determined both of their futures. At least in terms of who they were allowed to sleep with—as far as the public was aware—for the rest of their lives.
“I doubt we’ll have much overlap in who we’re seriously dating. I have my six, you have yours, and the rest we can divvy up as we go. But if we do have a disagreement, I get the final decision.”
“Damn, Nicky. You’re making me regret losing that bet.” Her gaze drifted back to the holo. Arbora had turned to address the cameras, the screen zeroing in on her face, her dark brown eyes intent.
“Raise volume,” Spie commanded the holo as Arbora began speaking.
“I know what you’re all wondering: isn’t she the girl who gave our beloved princess her first taste of heartbreak? Ah, but we were children then. Who better to heal a heart than the one who broke it?”
You didn’t break my heart, Spie thought. I broke yours.
“How are you feeling about seeing her again?” Nicky asked.
Spie shrugged. It was easier than saying she was mildly terrified. “How are you feeling about seeing Cailin?”
“Like I want to disappear into the university archives for the rest of my life.”
Spie looked sharply at her brother. Noticed the worried draw of his eyebrows, the defeated dip in his shoulders.
She felt guilty for the stress he was under.
She wanted to say I’m sorry for putting you in this position but didn’t know how.
It was too big to talk about, this thing between them—her failure.
So, instead, she said, “You know the finale will be broadcast live. You don’t have to pick Cailin.
And once you’ve made your pick, no one can do anything to change it.
New Terra will be pissed, sure, but they’ll get over it eventually.
It’s not like the arrangement has ever been official. Nicky, are you listening to me? Nicky?”
His gaze was glued to the holo where Trash Girl was busy choking her way through a semi-endearing speech in her halting accent.
A pretty yellow dress hugged her admittedly generous assets, a dress Spie would’ve bet her left kidney that she loathed wearing.
It was definitely not in the wardrobe Spie had picked out for her.
Damn you , Manny. Let the girl wear what she wants.
Spie looked back at her brother. The crease between his eyebrows was softening, a new, dopey curve lifting one side of his mouth. He really liked Artemis Ialan. Which meant Spie had zero business noticing her curves.
Her CB vibrated and she looked down.
Trash Girl: Don’t test me or I’ll show you exactly how filthy my mouth is.
Spie couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her. This woman.
“What’s funny?” Nicky asked, the holo’s spell broken.
Spie didn’t look up as she sent her response. “It’s nothing.”
Spie: I just might take you up on that. By the way, those boots with that dress? Excellent choice.
“Spie.” Nicky nudged her.
She tapped her CB to idle the screen. “What?”
He raised an eyebrow.
“It’s nothing. No one.” The lie caused a coal of guilt to settle in her stomach.
But she couldn’t tell him she was teasing the girl he liked, a girl she was paying to be there.
And anyway, it really was nothing. If Spie could get him to pick Trash Girl, in the end, she’d be doing him an enormous kindness.
If he had to be emperor, then he should at least have someone at his side that he wanted there.
“Anyway, back to the Cailin Frederik of it all. You ignored me before.”
He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes.
“I’m not stressed about Cailin specifically.
It’s just— I think I could make a good emperor, I do.
I have ideas I want to enact, changes..
.I only wish I didn’t have to be married to make it happen.
Everyone is going to want me to kiss the contestants, find out who I’m compatible with.
It’s better for ratings, et cetera. But I’m not like you, Spie, I can’t just. ..do that.”
“You know you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do?
This is our show. You don’t want to kiss anyone, then don’t kiss anyone.
I can make up for the ratings on that front.
” She paused, trying to will her brother to look at her.
The holo blared obnoxiously as some reporter oohed and aahed over the latest released picture of her and Nicky.
A candid of them arriving at the manor. She snapped her fingers to turn off the projector.
“I have friends who aren’t interested in romance or sex.
There’s nothing wrong with that, nothing wrong with you if that’s how you feel. ”
She’d long wondered if her brother experienced life somewhere along the aromatic and/or asexual spectrum.
It wasn’t just that he never dated anyone; he never seemed interested in dating anyone.
What twenty-six-year-old human with an entire galaxy of willing souls didn’t have at least some temptation to taste them?
But then, Spie was trying to understand her brother through her own allosexual experience. That wasn’t fair to Nicky.
“No, that’s not—that’s not what I’m saying.” He returned his glasses to his face.
“Then what are you saying? Talk to me, Nicky. Do you not want to break hearts? I hate to say it, but that’s unavoidable. It’s all part of the drama.”
Nicky gave her a tight smile that seemed to say her response had missed the mark somehow.
“I know you’re right. But I guess...I just wish the idea didn’t bother me so much.
I keep thinking about the empire, how sacrifices must be made for the greater good, but it’s hard to live a life of ideals when you’re the one personally faced with the harm that must be accepted to bring those ideals to pass. ”
“I think the real problem is that you’re too good for this world, baby brother.”
But the smile she’d expected to elicit from him didn’t come. Instead, his brow furrowed, and he stood up. Through her glass balcony doors, late-afternoon sunlight reflected off the distant lapping ocean waves.
“Sometimes”—he stared past her, through her, as though not speaking to her at all—“I wonder if goodness is less a personal attribute and more a commentary on personal circumstance.”
He left soon after, abandoning Spie in the sudden, acute awareness of being alone.
She loved her brother. Would do anything for him. Prided herself on being the one person who knew him best. But sometimes, she wondered if she was wrong. What if she didn’t know him at all?