Chapter 19 #3
She put her fingers over Amelia’s, and it felt like she was closing a well-loved book. She’d explored the story, and the ending wasn’t what she’d wanted—but it was the best ending either of them could have hoped for.
“I appreciate you telling me.”
Amelia glanced at her, hearing the defeat in her tone. She didn’t move her fingers out from Torian’s touch. “For what it’s worth, it was a great kiss. But I am truly sorry for everything else.”
Even knowing their future, Torian’s heart still raced at that sentence. There was something shockingly rewarding about hearing that Captain Amelia Perrosk, Princess of the Fleet, a woman who’d ignored Torian for six months, thought Torian’s kissing abilities were top-notch.
Smug satisfaction flooded Torian, and she smirked. “Well, I am a great kisser.”
“Don’t push it,” Amelia drawled, squeezing her hand before pulling away. She pushed to her feet, dusting off her pants. “I just wanted to show you this before we left Colony 4, so you don’t leave another space station thinking I’m a complete asshole.”
“Not an asshole. Bit of a jerk, maybe. But people love that—a rough exterior with a gooey, tortured center.”
“Fuck, kill me now.”
Torian laughed, and Amelia laughed, and the tension between them bled away. Maybe they wouldn’t get to explore love, but at least Amelia cared enough to maintain a friendship.
Torian could be satisfied with that.
(Hopefully.)
Amelia offered her hand, and Torian gripped it.
In one smooth motion, Amelia hauled Torian to her feet, which set her stomach turning when she wound up a few inches from Amelia’s body.
Torian didn’t release Amelia’s hand, and Amelia didn’t pull away, and for a breath they just stared into each other’s eyes, inches apart.
“You should bring the blanket,” Torian said, because this was almost too much. “It looks homemade.”
“Everything on Rhymarra is homemade. But yeah. Maybe.” Amelia stepped back, cutting the electricity between them as she retrieved the blanket and dutifully slung it over her shoulder.
Torian fumbled for something else to say. “I’m amazed this stuff is still here, years later.”
“Colony 4 has a smaller population than most, and this room was abandoned for years before I found it. In all honesty, it was one of the better space stations to be dropped on—crime is lower here than most other places, and it’s full of empty rooms like this.
” Amelia shrugged. “’Course, none of that matters when you don’t have money for food. ”
“That’s a good reason to join the Fleet.”
“Well, my actual reason wasn’t for employment—Opula landed her ship and I snuck in to steal from their galley. They took off with me still on it.”
Torian snorted. “Amazing you weren’t killed on the spot.”
“It really was.” Now Amelia absently ran a hand across the blue blanket. It looked almost comical, like a royal sash over her leather jacket. “Thanks for coming with me. This was … cathartic.” She offered Torian a warm smile, and for the first time, it felt like they were actually, truly friends.
“My pleasure,” Torian said, resisting the urge to squeeze Amelia’s arm comfortingly. They were friends, damn it. Not partners. Not in love. Friends. She cleared her throat and changed the subject. “Lyric is probably done fixing the ship. Should—ah, should we get back?”
Amelia waved a hand. “Sure. Probably about time.” She turned toward the door, asking over her shoulder, “What’s your plan next, now that Rhymarra is a no-go? Back to Colony 13 and Celise?”
Torian followed, casting one final glance at the abandoned mattress and makeshift tent and old, dead plants. No matter what, she was glad she’d seen this side of Amelia.
It helped.
“Celise first, yeah. Then…”
Torian hesitated, aching to tell Amelia about Vaesa, about its alien splendor, about their plans to repair and reclaim it for a new generation. But Amelia hadn’t seemed impressed when Torian mentioned the aliens earlier—would she even believe Torian now?
It was a risk … but the rewards might outweigh it. Amelia and her crew worked extensive supply lines and smuggling routes. At worst, they could help with the restoration. At best, a few of them might decide to settle there.
Torian wouldn’t complain if Amelia lived nearby, permanently.
In an unbidden moment, she imagined having coffee with Amelia and Celise in the mornings, learning to farm from an ex-Rhymarran, hugging Amelia goodnight beneath the shimmering leaves of the kerrac tree.
A whole life unfolded where they actually remained in proximity, and Torian had her two favorite people under one beautiful, domed roof.
Plus, after seeing this place, Torian suddenly wanted nothing more than to give Amelia something like her old home. Vaesa wasn’t Rhymarra, but … well, it felt like the next best thing for two people stuck in space.
“Actually,” Torian said, “I have another lead … if you’re interested.”
Amelia tilted her head. “Assume I’m always interested in new jobs, Scrap.”
Torian grinned. “Well, good. ’Cause this one’s a doozy.”