Chapter 9 #3
"You should," I agree. I don't move either.
Her eyes drop to my mouth. When they lift again, there's nothing guarded left in them at all.
I close the distance between us in a single step.
My hands find her waist first, settling on the curve of her hips, and she meets me halfway. Her mouth is on mine before I've fully registered the movement, and this kiss is nothing like the gentle, exploring press of lips we shared after the movie night.
She tastes like verak nectar, sweet and tart, and her hands slide up my chest to grip my shoulders, pulling me closer.
I back her gently into the wall beside her door, one hand braced on the metal, the other still on her hip.
She arches into me, and the sound she makes against my lips, a low, vibrating hum, nearly takes my knees out.
I kiss her deeper, and she kisses back just as hungrily.
Her fingers curl into the fabric of my shirt, her nails scraping lightly through the material, and the sensation sends a shiver cascading down my spine.
When her tongue touches mine, tentative and then bolder, the world narrows to a single burning point.
I don't know how long we stay like that, pressed to the wall of a ship corridor like two teenagers who've forgotten the rest of the universe exists.
Long enough that my heart is hammering. Long enough that her breathing has gone ragged.
Long enough that pulling away takes every ounce of willpower I have.
But I do pull away. Because I meant what I told myself in the shower, I will not rush this. She deserves better than a man who loses his head just because she's perfect and willing and kissing him like the world is ending.
I press my forehead to hers.
"I should let you sleep," I manage. My voice sounds like I've been gargling sand.
"Yes." Her voice isn't much steadier. "We have a long day tomorrow."
Neither of us moves.
"A'Vanti."
"Hmm?"
"I'm having a really hard time leaving."
Her laugh is breathless, and she presses one last kiss to the corner of my mouth – quick and light, a parting gift.
"Good night, Vel'shar," she murmurs. Then she slips through her door and it slides shut between us.
I stand in the corridor for a solid ten seconds, staring at her closed door like an idiot, my lips tingling and my pulse still hammering in my ears.
Vel'shar. She's called me that before. I don't know what it means, but the way she says it makes me think it's something good.
Then I push off the wall and start walking. Not toward my quarters. I have somewhere else to be first.
D'Rett's quarters are on the upper deck, in the section reserved for senior crew.
I take the stairs two at a time, my mind working fast. An hour east, an hour back.
If we wrap up tomorrow's assignments by late afternoon, that gives us a solid window before the second sun sets.
D'Rett is careful but not unreasonable. If I frame it right—
I reach his door and knock. Then immediately wonder if this was a terrible idea. It's late. He might be asleep. He might be—
Footsteps, and then the door slides open. D'Rett fills the frame, a tablet in one hand, what looks like a logistics report glowing on its screen. He glances from the tablet to me, one brow ridge lifting.
Behind him, Chelsea is curled up on the bed in an oversized shirt, her own tablet propped on her knees, while L'Tarne sits behind her, methodically braiding her hair into a neat plait.
Three pairs of eyes turn to look at me.
"Goober." D'Rett frowns. "It's late. Is everything okay?"
Chelsea, however, has already zeroed in on something I can't see – the look on my face, or my mussed hair, or the fact that I'm slightly out of breath and grinning like a man who's lost his mind.
"Oh my god," she says, lowering her tablet. "Look at him. He's beaming like an idiot."
"I'm not beaming."
"You are absolutely beaming." She sits up so fast that the half-finished braid slips through L'Tarne's fingers. He lets out a sigh and begins patiently gathering the loose strands again. "You had dinner with A'Vanti, yeah? Tell us everything."
"Nothing happened. I—" I stop, regroup, and turn to D'Rett. "I have a request."
D'Rett steps back, arms folded. Behind him, Chelsea is practically vibrating. L'Tarne has abandoned the braid entirely now, leaning forward with the same gleeful expression as his mate.
"A'Vanti designed a building before her capture," I say. "A community center in a settlement called Brishar. It's about an hour's flight from here. She hasn't seen it since she was taken, and she doesn't know if it's still standing."
D'Rett's expression shifts from mild curiosity to focused.
"I'd like to take her there. Tomorrow, after we finish work for the day. I know we're on a tight schedule, and I wouldn't ask if I didn't think it mattered." I hold his gaze. "But it matters, D'Rett. To her. This isn't sightseeing. It's—"
"Something she needs," D'Rett finishes.
"Yeah."
Silence. D'Rett studies me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he glances at Chelsea, who gives him a look so pointed it could pierce armor.
"The settlement hasn't been surveyed yet," L'Tarne says from the bed, his tone thoughtful rather than objecting. "Sending a shuttle with a pilot and an architect to assess conditions would not be without strategic value."
I could kiss L'Tarne. I won't, because he could snap me in half, but the impulse is there.
D'Rett turns back to me. "You fly every run on tomorrow's schedule first. No one's workday gets disrupted because you want to play tour guide."
"Done."
"Take a shuttle with full emergency provisions. Maintain regular comm check-ins, at least every hour."
"Absolutely."
"And Goober." His voice shifts, and the commander who was granting a favor is gone. "I never thanked you properly for what you did with the keth'ra. Putting yourself between that thing and Chelsea." His jaw tightens. "I would have done the same. Any mate would."
"You don't need to thank me for that."
"I'm not finished." His gaze pins me in place.
"I'm grateful. But I'm also concerned. Because it's not just Chelsea, is it?
On Osti, you were practically the first one through the door of the testing facility.
You always take the most dangerous assignment.
You always make yourself the one who's expendable.
" He pauses. "Protecting my mate is instinct.
I understand that. But what I saw in that hangar wasn't just a man protecting someone he cares about.
It was a man who didn't think twice about his own life. And that's a different thing entirely."
The hallway is very quiet. Behind him, Chelsea has gone still on the bed. Even L'Tarne has stopped moving.
"I've commanded warriors for a long time," D'Rett continues.
"I know the difference between a man who risks his life for someone and a man who doesn't value his own.
One of those things I honor. The other one gets people killed.
" His golden eyes hold mine. "You have someone who needs you.
So start acting like your life matters. Because it does. "
I want to crack a joke. The impulse is so strong it's almost physical – some quip about D'Rett going soft on me, something to steer us back to safe ground.
But the look on his face won't let me. And behind him, Chelsea is watching me with an expression that's stripped of its usual teasing, and it hits me that she sees it too.
"Noted," I say. And for once, I don't follow it with a punchline.
D'Rett studies me for another beat, then nods. When he speaks again, the edge has eased.
"Be back before the second sun sets. I mean it. The desert is dangerous after dark, and we don't have enough survey data on that area to risk a night landing."
"Understood. Thank you, D'Rett."
"Don't thank me." He sighs. "Just take care of her. She's been through enough."
"I will. I promise."
He nods, and I can see that the conversation is over from his end. But Chelsea isn't done.
"For the record," she calls as I turn to leave, "I had money on dinner being the night you two finally got together, so whatever just happened, I need details. Tomorrow. Don't think you can avoid me."
"Good night, Chelsea."
"I will find you, Cody Johnson!"
I'm still grinning as the door slides shut behind me.
The corridor is silent. The ship hums around me, and somewhere behind a closed door, A'Vanti is settling into bed, hopefully still thinking about our kiss. I press my hand to the gho'ba carving in my pocket and feel its small, familiar weight in my palm.
Tomorrow, I'm taking her to Brishar. And I can't wait to see her face when she realizes where we're going.