“What do you need to be better?” Rix asks softly.
"I need a drink. Can you put that fire out? I don't want my place to go up in flames."
“Sure thing.”
I leave him to it, and I do a quick inventory of my stuff. As I thought, I’m fresh out of alcohol. It’s not often that I have any on hand anyhow, so it’s not surprising.
“I’m here,” Rix announces, standing behind me.
I shake my head. He doesn't want to startle me, which is sweet and endearing, and fuck. This can't be happening. I've put up walls for a reason. Is an alien going to be the one to tear them down? Will he just go off and leave me high and dry like Paul did? I mean, he's a pilot. He wants to see the stars.
Fuck that. I want to see the stars too.
I never really thought about that before, but the prototypes that Paul stole for their parts? They had all been telescope variations that could help to predict weather patterns or the distance between the Earth and the star it was focused on. I've always had a thing for numbers and calculations. The weather predictor, that still had a lot of bugs, but the weather has always been a finicky bitch. She doesn't like to give patterns or telltale signs of her big moves.
“I need alcohol,” I announce.
“Sake?”
I shake my head. “Something stronger.”
“You want to get drunk.”
“Are you judging me?”
“Never.” He hesitates. “I just don’t want you to get into trouble, and I don’t want you to get me into trouble either.”
I laugh. “You don’t have to worry there. I’ve never been drunk. I know my limits, and I usually don’t have enough to barter in order to drink enough to become drunk. No worries there.”
“My mom had a long talk to me about drinking and taking advantage and lowered inhibitions… Drinking alcohol doesn’t affect Novans much at all, and Kurians don’t tend to get drunk either. She made sure that I understood that no means no and all of that. Respect and, ah, I guess I didn’t do her proud when it came to you.”
I eye him. He's not acting. He really does feel bad about how things went down. And from his point of view, he wasn't trying to be deceptive. Rix knew that by hinting at wanting to go back on the ship to resume the tour meant his bedroom. He was being honest about his intentions.
I just didn’t want those intentions realized.
And then after, he ghosted me. Or did I ghost him? I guess it’s more that I ghosted him.
Yeah, I am so confused right now. Not that I drink will help that any, but I’m feeling things I haven’t felt in a very long time, and I don’t think I can handle that right now. Not on top of everything else.
"My mom also told me once that sometimes, a woman needs space. That's some of the reasons why I stayed away. I was embarrassed, yes, but I thought that if I gave you time, you might not be so mad and might not hate me as much."
Space. He wanted to give me space, which was what I needed, wasn’t it? Then again, he did make me feel like he forgot all about me. Man, I don’t even know how he could have handled things so that I wouldn’t be upset. He did the best he could under the circumstances, and honestly, he didn’t play his cards entirely wrong.
“Let’s just head to the bar now, okay?” I suggest.
We walk there. It’s about a two-mile walk, and we arrive twenty minutes later. The place isn’t too packed yet because it’s early yet, but once we sit at the bar, the bartender makes a call, and it takes no time at all for the place to become jam-packed.
A woman bumps into me as we're waiting for our food to be served. "Oh, I'm sorry," she gushes, bending down low, her top leaving nothing to the imagination. I swear I can see her nipples. "Don't you look good? Blue is so your color." She laughs, her hand on her chest as she straightens, and then she flickers her hand toward Rix.
“I do think Ava looks good in blue,” Rix remarks.
I glance down. Yeah, there is a thin strip of blue in my mostly black and white shirt, and I just give him a look.
He winks at me.
“You should try the—”
“We already ordered,” Rix tells the woman.
“Oh. You’re here with her?” She brushes her blond hair back. “Don’t you know that threesomes are amazing? I don’t mind—”
Rix tilts his head, finally looking at her. “I thought the saying was that three’s a crowd.”
The woman pouts, pushing out her lower lip, and she stalks away, maybe looking for another victim.
I sip on my drink. I’m not even sure what it is. All I did was ask the bartender to whip me up something that would taste good. If there’s alcohol in it, I can’t tell, which is dangerous, very dangerous.
Which is why I’m sipping, but I’m nervous, and when I’m nervous, I need to do something with my hands. That means drinking. I’m almost done with my drink when our food is served, and the bartender gives me a second drink the moment I finish my first.
Shit.
Rix and I try to talk, but that blonde isn't the only one to interrupt us. Many more women do as we eat, and that makes me so very uncomfortable, fucking uncomfortable. I mean, on the one hand, it's plain as day that Rix wants nothing to do with them, and that makes me glad, but they just won't stop. There's a seemingly endless supply of them coming over and trying to flirt and get
