Havik caught a foot, holding it gently. Terrans were fragile, especially at their joints. His thumb rubbed the insole of her foot. Her breath hitched in her throat. The moment stretched out between them. The soft background noise of the film and the ship’s ventilation and life support systems fell away.
Tension in the air crackled between them. They could come together or push away, ignoring their mutual attraction.
He leaned in, intending to brush away the sheen of sauce clinging to the corner of her lips.
Something soft pelted him in the back of the head.
Annoyed, he dropped Thalia’s foot and whipped around. Ren stood in the kitchen area, taking aim with a bread roll.
“Oh, good, you are not busy. We need to discuss the fuel situation,” he said. Calmly, he split the roll and slathered it with butter, acting for all the stars like he had intended to eat the food all along and not use it as a missile. “I require your assistance. In another part of the ship. Alone.”
Havik glanced at Thalia, who had sunk back into the cushions of the built-in seating. Grabbing a pillow, she placed it over herself like a shield. “Might as well. It’s not like you were enjoying the movie.”
“Very well.” Havik had not known his friend to be a jealous male, but perhaps he was correct to separate them. They could not afford to compromise the mission with messy emotions.
Chapter 11
Thalia
Two weeks was a long time and they weren’t at their destination yet. A scheduled stop for fuel broke up the monotony of the journey. Apparently, Havik’s ship was slow and a gas guzzler.
Thalia couldn’t complain about the extra time to catch up on the last three years. Besides binging all her favorite shows and books, the added time helped clear the fog from her head. She felt sharper, more alert. If she enjoyed the time, she spent teaching board games to Havik and watching movies with him all snuggled up on the sofa in the lounge, that was just a pleasant side effect. And by snuggled, she meant she curled up in a pile of pillows with Stabs on her lap and Havik sat as far away as possible, his back rigid and never relaxing.
Good times.
As fun as that was, she welcomed the change of scenery and a chance to shop for necessities. Havik and Ren’s diet seemed to consist of packages of instant noodles—three flavors, such variety! — and chewy meat granola bars. Thalia never wanted a salad so bad in her life. Plus, she only had two outfits and needed to add to her wardrobe. Anticipating their arrival, she placed an order hours before docking.
“Is there a reason a drone is waiting for my signature?” Ren asked as the ramp lowered from the cargo hold.
Cooler air immediately flooded in. Ren shivered. Havik zipped up his jacket. Thalia sighed in relief.
“I ordered some items and charged them to the ship’s account,” she said.
“My account,” Ren replied.
“For the ship.” She would have paid for them herself if she had the money, but she kept her laughable financial status to herself. What remained of the allowance that the Mahdfel gave her would be enough for some new clothes. Or new-to-her clothes. Hopefully, the station had a secondhand shop.
Ren opened the package and held up a bottle of foaming soap. “We have soap.”
“The soap you have is caustic and makes me itchy.” She scratched her arm to drive home the point.
Ren opened his mouth but Havik interrupted with, “Terran skin is different from ours. We should have anticipated the female’s needs.”
Ren huffed as he pawed through the box. If he had a problem with the groceries she ordered, he kept it to himself. “You are correct. I will unpack these. I like this flavor. Very fishy.” He held up a tube of what she had thought was regular sausage.
“Yay. Fishy,” she muttered, not a fan of fish. At least someone would eat the fish sausage.
Thalia exaggeratedly cocked her hip and scanned the dock. Not that she was an experienced intergalactic traveler, but the difference between this station and the previous one at Sangrin was huge. The Sangrin station had been huge and bustling. People moved with purpose. The public announcement system crackled with constant noise and updates. Money and goods flowed through the station.
Here, not so much. Only two other ships shared the docking bay. Silence filled the space, and the dingy interior spoke to neglect and lack of funds for basic maintenance. The station had seen better days. This was the kind of place you stopped at only because you had to, and no one stayed for long.
Her kind of place.
At the bottom of the ramp, Havik gripped her arm, snagging her attention. “Do not try your tricks here. I am watching you. Do not embarrass me,” he warned.
Embarrass him?
Instantly, she blushed, like she had been caught in the wrong, but that did not last long. She didn’t appreciate the reappearance of her stern and grumpy alien, talking down to her like a child. On the ship, she almost thought he liked her and cared, just a little bit.
The way he watched her with contempt made her skin crawl.
It hurt.
Thalia jerked out of his grip. “You wanna put a collar on me and make sure I behave myself?” she snarked. A minute ago, she would have teased him, but she didn’t want to embarrass the giant red asshole by being a common little thief.
“I will escort you. That will be enough.”
“Fine.” She zipped up her hoodie, chafing at the idea of being babysat by Danger B. It was like he expected her to plan some heist and she wanted to do just that out of spite. “I’m out of my element here, so you tagging along is helpful,” she admitted, because she was a grown-ass woman who could admit to needing help. “Is there
