Chapter 15 - Glass Veins #2
We get into such a groove that we work through lunch, and complete two days’ worth of repairs. Mid-stretch, Marlowe finds me over Liz’s head. She gives me a thumbs-up and then does a little shimmy.
“Smoothing and shaping tomorrow.” She grins. “Hopefully, with the help of this legend.”
Liz snorts and shoves at her shoulder, which would be disastrous if we didn’t have our gravboots activated.
I don’t know how they’ve managed to become so friendly, so quickly.
Then again, Liz is prone to leaping from topic to topic apropos of nothing, so there’s that.
Once again, I’m amazed by Marlowe’s ability to infiltrate just about anyone’s defences. Perhaps she can crack Julian next.
We clear the airlock just in time for dinner.
A vicious rumbling churns my stomach acid the entire walk to the galley, and all I can think about is food.
But I falter in the doorway, having momentarily forgotten how many bodies would be around the table.
Marlowe breezes past me and leans over Vee to take a huge bite of his pizza.
Whilst mother and son bicker, Khrys gives me a discreet thumbs up—the story our guests told us checked out.
With Beau elsewhere, I’d asked her to investigate. It’s a weight off my shoulders.
“Pizza?” I ask Devyaan.
He points salad tongs at Julian, who stands at the counter with a ridiculous apron on. The man is built like a slab of concrete, so it’s a comical sight. Devyaan grins, eyes glittering. “The white boy wanted pizza.”
If Julian objects to being scapegoated, he doesn’t say so. If anything, he seems to cut into the fresh dish with a little more care. I raise my eyebrows and aim them at Devyaan, but he shoos me away. As quick as he is to throw out kind words and a smile, he’s as private as I am.
“Sit. Eat. It took ages to make all of these; I don’t want to see a single slice left.”
I don’t need to be told twice. I wash my hands and slot in between Khrys and Vee, reaching for a plate so I can pile it high.
After a day like this, back aching, I want to eat until I’m ready to burst and then go to bed.
But I look around first to see if our chefs are seated too.
They’re curled up over the counter, eating straight from the tray and talking so quietly I can’t even hear a murmur.
Marlowe leans over Vee to press her lips to my ear. “Mum!” he scowls, but she swats him.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” she whispers, darting a pointed look at Julian and Devyaan. It is a sweet picture.
Maximus walks in, so close to Beau, they’re practically wearing each other.
I’m surprised by the serious expression on Beau’s face when we make eye contact.
Beside me, Marlowe frowns, and I know she’s noticed it too.
The volume in the galley dips and Maximus detaches himself from Beau, heading towards Julian, whose voice is a low murmur.
“Max,” Beau says. The man stops in his tracks. “I’m going to have to tell them, okay?”
At this, Julian snaps up, gaze shooting between the two. I pause, hyperaware, wondering if I need to intervene. Did something happen?
Julian steps towards his brother, but Maximus holds out his hand. A wry smile skates across his face. “I understand.”
Beau claps a hand to his shoulder before looking over, back to wearing that trademark smile, like muscle memory. “Max is blind,” they say. “But holy shit is he good at navigating as if he’s not.”
The galley falls into silence before Khrys drags out the word, “Oh.”
Maximus smiles softly, heading for the table.
He takes a seat, and the action is so smooth that it’s obvious why no one noticed his blindness before.
What I saw as graceful movement could be careful movement.
When he turns to look at a person speak, he does it with his whole body; his gaze so intent, you’d never know.
“Did the gold make you blind?” Vee pipes up.
Marlowe looks mortified. “Vee, a little tact, please.”
“It’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with children asking questions, and it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Yes, unfortunately,” Maximus says. “It was still a relatively new procedure, and there were complications.”
“So why do it?”
The man shrugs, slightly sheepish. “It looked cool. I was young and rich.”
“An idiot, you mean.” Julian scowls, sitting down beside him.
“My brother is right, of course. An idiot, too.”
Vee looks amazed, practically sprawled over the table. “Do they do anything?”
“It was cosmetic,” Julian grumbles, shaking his head in disbelief. “His sight for some pretty gold irises.”
“Six years and he still gets this riled up about it.” Maximus bops Julian on the nose with unbelievable accuracy. “Even though I think I’ve adapted pretty well.”
“You have not adapted; your tech has adapted for you.”
Maximus shrugs slender shoulders as if to say, What’s the difference? And, when you’re that wealthy, what is the difference? But I wonder, at the slight tension in his body, if he’s as blasé about it as he seems.
“The crew needed to know for your safety,” Beau says. “A few days ago, we ran into a micrometeorite swarm. You never know what’s going to happen.”
“I understand.”
“You don’t like telling people?” Khrys asks.
“There’s no need, usually. I’m a quick study, and if I ever need help, Julian is always around. Habit, I suppose, but I don’t like the way people’s treatment of me changes when they find out.”
Vee scrunches up his face. “They treat you like a baby?”
“Exactly.”
I call it an early night. It’s been a long time since I was this tired; the kind of exhaustion that tugs at my bones and feels like someone has dialled the gravity up.
With instructions they didn’t need, I leave the crew with an open bottle of wine and head for my cabin.
Seeing the crew happy and giggling, embracing three strangers who experienced something horrible, makes my chest feel warm.
I’d expected the addition of Maximus, Julian, and Liz to create tension or insurmountable awkwardness, but I should have known better. Apparently, I’m the only awkward one.
By the time I’ve showered, brushed my tangled nest of a bun and changed into shorts and a vest, I’m ready to fall into a coma.
Usually, my alarm’s set to mimic daybreak, and the electrical humming of various devices around the cabin provides white noise.
Tonight, I shut everything down, wanting to sleep until my body feels restored. I think I’m out in seconds.
I wake up sometime later feeling so groggy it almost hurts.
My head is heavy, and I have to peel my eyes open.
A warm body slides over me, soft curves wriggling into my arms. The scent of pomegranate invades my nose, along with something else I recognise.
It’s a mix of aromas from my body wash—not the bottle I gave her. Automatically, I tighten my grip.
“Marlowe?” I ask blearily.
She hums into my ear, low and throaty, sending a violent shiver through me.
“Did you just use my shower?”
“Yes,” she whispers. “Why? Jealous?”
“Very.” I scoop her into my arms and roll us over, emboldened by darkness and languidity.
Marlowe shrieks, giggles, and then slides her hands into my loose hair.
Her fingers are heavenly against my scalp, sore from the aggressive brushing.
I don’t know if this is a dream, and I’m too scared to find out. “How did you get in here?”
“Kit let me in.”
I can’t see her, but I can hear the laughter in her voice. “She’s not supposed to do that,” I say redundantly.
“You know, I think you’ve underestimated how sly your AI is. She’s—” Marlowe stops, exhaling hard as I run my tongue over the shell of her ear. “You know what, who cares?”
I didn’t plan to do it, but she smells so good and feels so warm and I can hardly believe she’s here after that conversation in her cabin.
I kiss her earlobe, bite down on it, and scrape my teeth along her skin.
Her gasp is music to my ears. The fact that she’s shuddering in my arms makes me fearless, and I tease the hem of her t-shirt.
She’s wearing nothing else, and when I speak, my voice is husky.
“I want to touch you.”
Marlowe swallows so hard I can hear it, and I think about kissing her, about dipping my tongue into that snarky mouth and stealing her words straight from the source.
“Why? I wasn’t very nice to you earlier.” She sounds small. I hate it. The Marlowe I’ve come to know is not small, is not shy. She loosens the hand wrapped around my nape and presses it over my heart. “You should be angry with me.”
“I don’t know if I can be,” I say, dipping my head and breathing the words directly against her lips. My hair slips over my shoulder, forming a curtain around our faces, and it’s pitch black in a way that feels just as intimate as being inside Marlowe on the observation deck.
“You’re really okay with me being here?”
“Let me show you.”
“Yes.”
Cradling Marlowe’s jaw, I surge forward and press our mouths together.
She makes a needy sound as I sweep my tongue across the seam of her lips, before dragging me on top of her bodily.
I love her soft curves against me, the way she tastes, and the sensation of being in her arms. I’ve never liked a gentle touch, and somehow Marlowe knows this; her hands are firm on my body, a pressure that sends excitement skating over my nerves.
She kisses me back like she’s atoning, a pouring of herself into me that I can only accept with fervour.
When she grinds her hips against me, and the heat simmering under my skin feels like it might end me, I wrench myself away.
She inhales sharply. I wish I didn’t have to ask, but I don’t want to be her mistake in the morning. “Are you sure about this?”
She laughs breathlessly, tightens her fingers at the roots of my hair, and pulls me back down. “Shut the fuck up, captain.”