Chapter 8
CHAPTER
EIGHT
Weeks Later
MELODY
I stare out at the rain pounding down on the small town of Port. It’s such a cliché, but I’m glad for the rain. It matches my mood.
Not only that, but every day that it rains, it delays the construction on the space port. It’s another day that Brux is here, breathing the same air I am. I shouldn’t be as obsessed with him as I am, but I can’t help it. I’ve thought about him constantly for the last five years, wondering what it would have been like if he’d come to Risda with me. Instead, he abandoned me to someone else and went off to work crummy jobs because he thought I “deserved” better. As if I’m some perfect prize instead of a real human being who just wanted to be held and to feel safe.
Ugh. Whatever. His loss. I hope it rains all over his head.
“You seem very far away today,” says a voice at my side.
I turn, smiling brightly at Aithar. He’s one of the a’ani clones working on building a new cantina here in Port, and I’ve been talking to him about utilizing whatever scrap they have left over, and to see if they need my help creating anything for their human patrons, as I’ve been getting pretty good with toasters now. It’s business. Just business.
Well, except for the fact that Aithar is one of the few men that I’ve dated here on Risda, and he’s made it very clear to me that he’s still interested. He smiles encouragingly at me and offers me a drink. It’s water with a piece of fruit in it, cool and refreshing. I take it from him with a smile and sip it as he watches me with an avid, intense gaze. I’ve been coming around to their cantina for the last few days, some for conversation, some for eyeballing scrap.
Some because I’m circling around the idea of going out with Aithar again.
I need to move on, right? I need to stop thinking about Brux, because he’s made it very clear to me that he’s not interested in what I have to offer. Aithar is handsome, with bright red skin, a chiseled jaw, and thick black hair. He’s got black tattoos climbing up his arms, but those just add to his attractiveness. He’s tall and lean and eager. So eager.
Nothing like Brux, who looks out at the world with wounded eyes.
Ugh. There I go again, thinking about the wrong person. I beam a bright smile at Aithar. “It’s just the weather. I prefer when it’s sunny. Makes my job easier when I have a big project. I can take it outside instead of hiding in the basement.”
“You can always come here if you need to work,” he volunteers, and one of the a’ani at work behind him whips his head around, frowning in our direction.
“Oh, I’d just be in the way,” I tell him. “But I appreciate the offer. It’s very kind of you.”
“I am not kind. I am just eager to see you every day.” Aithar clutches his own drink to his chest as if it’s the only thing holding him together. “You…would you like to go and eat? Together? Today? Or tomorrow? Or whenever you like?”
“Are you asking me on a date?” I flirt, determined to forget Brux. “If so, I accept.”
Aithar smiles at me so brightly that my heart warms. Just a little. “I will buy you everything you wish to eat. It is as the humans say, your treat.”
The a’ani behind him rolls his eyes and goes back to laser-punching holes in a piece of metal.
I chuckle despite myself, setting down my drink and then plucking his from his grasp. “I think you have that backwards. And I can pay for my own food. You want to go now? I think we’re in the way of your friends that are working.”
He turns and glances behind him. When he sees who it is, he dismisses him with a wave of his hand. “That’s just Sakkar. He likes to frown at everyone. Thinks it makes us work harder. But I would love to have food with you, no matter who is treating who! It will be a joy for me regardless.”
How can I resist such a sweet comment? I beam at him and slip my arm through the crook of his. “As long as you save me any scrap metal you might not need, of course.”
I’m moving on. Moving forward.
We step out into the street, and the muggy, wet weather washes over us, misting my hair and face. The main street of Port normally has a few people walking through, but today it’s deserted except for a lone stranger at the far end of the town. I duck my head as rain drops splatter and Aithar sweetly tries to shield me with his arm over my head. It’s useless, but the gesture makes me laugh.
“I suppose if we didn’t want to get wet, we could have stayed back at your place,” I tell him as we hurry across the street toward the other cantina.
“There’s no food there yet! But if you want to go back, I can get food and bring it to you. I’m happy to do whatever you like.”
We jog down the street. “I’m just teasing. I don’t mind the weather?—”
I stop short, because the alien across the street is a familiar one. It’s a big mesakkah with two broken horns, a heavy jaw, and a tight expression on his face as he watches me walk with Aithar. Oh. Brux. Funny how I haven’t run into him for weeks and the day I decide to take Aithar up on his obvious flirting, he shows up. He stands outside the cantina, a heavy cloak wrapped around his shoulders and a dark hood covering his head. That’s why I didn’t notice him at first. Now he’s staring at me with an unreadable expression and for some reason, I feel guilt.
The guilt increases when Aithar puts a hand on my back, even as he opens the door to the cantina to let me in.
It feels like my heart is being torn out of my chest. I should be angry at Brux. I should want to flaunt Aithar in front of him. Instead, I just feel sad and more alone than ever before. We head into the cantina and I don’t look out the window to see if Brux is watching us. I keep my gaze locked ahead, and I somehow manage to order food and listen to Aithar as he chats about their plans for the upcoming cantina.
I eat. I respond. But I’m highly aware that Brux hasn’t come inside after us. He saw me with Aithar. Saw me come in with another man, his hand on my back. He had his chance.
Brux could have just said yes that night instead of making me feel like a fool. Like he wasn’t interested in some trashy human who kept throwing herself at him.
We finish our lunch and it’s nice. Aithar’s good with conversation, even as he shyly shoots me attentive glances. I can tell he doesn’t date a lot. I can tell he’s really interested in me. Still is, despite me letting him down months ago.
When we head back out into the street, I keep my head down, as if the rain is bothering me. Truth is, I don’t want to see Brux still standing in the rain, staring at me like I’m doing something wrong. I’m not the one in the wrong here. I told him how I felt. It’s not my fault he didn’t feel the same. I shouldn’t feel guilty for moving on.
We get back to the cantina under construction and I shake my wet hair out, giving Aithar a bright smile to hide the churning feelings inside me. “It was a nice lunch.”
“Was it? You seem very unhappy.” The look he gives me is gentle. “Perhaps it was not me you wished to be with.”
A protest rises to my lips, and then I stop. There’s no point in lying about it. “I wish I felt more strongly about you. I love being your friend, but I’m afraid my heart is tied up with someone else.”
“The big guy without the horns?” he asks. “The one that followed us?”
“He followed us?” I hadn’t noticed. I’d been so torn up inside that I hadn’t looked up from my shoes.
A hint of a smile touches Aithar’s mouth. “Yeah. He looked as if he wanted to tear my face off for touching you.”
I’m a terrible person, because hearing that thrills me. “Oh.”
His smile becomes a little more forced. “Yeah.”
“I’m sorry, Aithar.”
The a’ani gives a small shake of his head. “Don’t be. My kind always lose out to mesakkah. We’re used to it.”
“It still makes me an asshole.”
The smile he gives me is sad. “You’re just trying to figure yourself out. We all are.”
“I hope you find the woman—or man—that deserves you,” I tell him, and lean in to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Until then, I’d really like to be your friend.”
“And you want our scrap metals,” he teases.
“And that. And I can get you a good deal on a toaster.”
Aithar chuckles. “I’ll talk to the others. In the meantime, perhaps you should go and talk to your friend before he decides I’m a threat and does something I’ll regret.”
I nod and give him a quick hug, then slip out the door of the cantina. Emerging into the rain, I scan the street and there’s no sign of anyone at all. No Brux. I’m disappointed that he’s not waiting on the cantina’s doorstep, but I also don’t want to cause trouble for Aithar and his friends. I head out, deliberately taking the long way home despite the pouring rain. What normally takes two minutes to walk ends up taking twenty, but still no Brux. Soaked and dismayed, I head up to my room.
Maybe Aithar was wrong. Maybe Brux wasn’t following us at all.
The next day dawns sunny, which depresses me. It’s clear weather, which means the workers at the space port will be hard at work, probably finishing up the job. Fuck. I’m tempted to go over and demand to speak to Brux again, but I chased after him last time. At some point, he’ll have to come after me.
I’ve got to keep some scrap of dignity, right?
After I dress, I shove my feet into my boots without lacing them and head down to the dining room in the boarding house. The owner always provides a breakfast of some kind, even if it’s usually the terrible, cakey version of Risda bread. I make myself some toast with jam and sit down to eat at the same table as Daphne, the seamstress who also lives here full-time. As usual, Daphne is bent over a piece of clothing she’s repairing, her food getting cold next to her.
“You look busy this morning,” I comment between bites of toast.
She nods, picking at another stitch. “You’d think when they send these crews out that they’d send some sort of machine to repair their uniforms, but no. Do you know how much they charge these men to fix a tear?”
“More than you charge?” I guess, mouth full.
She doesn’t even look up, just smiles wryly at her work as she continues. “Exactly. Which is why I need to get this all done as quickly as possible. I got a notice that the job at the dock is done and so of course they all want their uniforms back today, wouldn’t you know.”
I choke on the toast, and struggle down a sip of tea to clear my throat. “T-today?”
“That’s what I heard. Pick up a needle if you want to help me. I need all the hands I can get.”
“I…can’t. Busy.” I shove my toast in my mouth and race out the door, limping as my boots threaten to fall off my feet. I have to go. Have to talk to Brux. Have to talk to him before he just abandons me here again?—
I slam into a large body. I stagger backward in surprise, practically crashing into the side of the building as I try to keep my balance. A big hand reaches out and grabs my arm, helping me upright.
It’s Brux, and my toast is now stuck to the front of his dock uniform.
“Oh my god!” Horrified, I reach out and pry my toast off his tunic, but it leaves a smear in the shape of the toast. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there.”
“I noticed.”
Brux doesn’t smile to take the sting out of his words. He shifts uncomfortably on his feet, his tail twitching with agitation…
…and then I notice that he’s got a cart behind him, full of scrap.
Oh. He’s not here because he’s jealous. He’s just bringing me scrap. I’m so crushed I could weep.
“I thought you were gone,” I blurt out. “That you’d left.”
“Not quite yet. I wanted to bring you the rest of the scrap.” He scratches the side of his jaw, tail flicking wildly. “Wanted to tell you that I’m sorry about how things went between us.”
So he’s not madly in love with me? It’s not what I wanted to hear, but it just proves again that he’s a decent guy. I manage a smile. “I appreciate the scrap.”
“And the apology?”
I cross my arms over my chest. “I don’t know how I feel about that part, to be honest. You hurt my feelings. I made myself vulnerable to you and it felt like you slapped me in the face. I don’t know what you think of me, but I don’t throw myself at every alien I see. Just the ones that I haven’t been able to get out of my head for the last five years.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I wanted it to be more. It’s just…” He stares off into the distance. “That last time you and I got together, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was for all the wrong reasons.”
“Sex can’t be just for sex?”
“Maybe I’m a strange sort, but every time I’ve had sex just for sex, I didn’t like it. Left me uncomfortable.” He shrugs, still not looking me in the eye. “I need more. And when I saw you again, well, I guess I wanted something different from you.”
“I…don’t know if I should be offended or not. What do you mean?”
Brux rubs his hard mouth again. “Kef. I’m saying this all wrong. I just…” He turns and walks away, and my heart stops all over again. A moment later, he changes his mind and turns back to me. “Where was I born?”
Now I’m the one confused. “Huh?”
“Where was I born?”
“I don’t know. Why do you ask?”
“Where did I lose my horns?” Brux waves an oversized hand at his large head and the two capped stumps. Then, he gestures at the side of his neck, which is covered in black symbols. “Or this tattoo?”
I shrug.
“What am I allergic to?”
I’m on the verge of being offended, because I feel as if I’m being set up to fail. “I don’t know. Is this a test?”
“No, this is me proving a point.” Brux surges toward me again, his hand out, his expression eager. He stops himself just before he touches me and takes a step back once more, lowering his hand. “When we have sex, I want it to be because we know each other—all the beautiful and all the ugly parts—and want to go further.”
“When?” I ask.
“When,” he agrees. “Because I can’t stop thinking about you, either. But right now, all I know about you is that your name is Melody and I saved you once. All you know about me is that I’m the one that saved you. Shit isn’t squared between us. It’s not even. It’s all fucked up. Do you understand?”
My heart squeezes. I nod. “Because if we just have sex then you feel no better than the ones that used me in the past.”
His shoulders sag. “Exactly. And maybe you can look past it, but I can’t.”
That stupid knot forms in my throat again. “So how do we fix this?”
Brux gives me a sincere look. “I’d like for us to become friends.”
I want to laugh because it’s the silliest, most obvious of solutions and one that didn’t occur to me in the slightest. “I’d like that, too. I’d love to get to know more about you. But…aren’t you leaving?” I gesture in the direction of the space port. “Your work is done, right?”
“For the majority of the crew, yes. Typically after a large job there’s at least one crew member that stays on to ensure everything is running smoothly. No issues with the elevators, or wiring, or any bad circuits. It’s mostly just maintenance. I volunteered for this job, and since I’m the crew lead, I get to pick who stays.”
I don’t know if I should smile or not. He says it all so seriously, his expression so severe.
“So you’re staying? So we can become friends?”
He nods.
“Well, can I invite you to hang out, then?”
“Hang…out?” He blinks at me.
Oh. “Spend time together. Have dinner maybe. I can show you my scrap projects I’m working on. We can make noodles.”
Brux hesitates again. “What kind of noodles?”
“I honestly have no idea. I can’t read the writing on the container. I just rip it open and hope it doesn’t taste like garbage.”
“Not chski,” he says, and then adds in a low voice. “Moden are allergic. My father’s father was part moden and it affects me.”
“How about you pick the noodles, then?” Happiness bubbles in my chest. “Maybe I’ll be in charge of entertainment.”
Brux smiles, flashing a hint of fang at me. “I would like that very much. Should I help you with your scrap first?”
There’s a warmth inside me that makes even the bright Risda sunlight feel dim in comparison. “I can manage on my own, but I wouldn’t turn down help from a friend.”