That’s something she’d have laughed about if she had any friends to laugh with.
And, if you laughed to yourself, people—even aliens—tended to think you’re crazy.
She was so alone.
Resting her ear against the door, she tried to pick up any sounds.
There were none but, for a reason she couldn’t determine, she remained plastered against the door.
Call her strange, but it didn’t feel like she was alone when she did that.
Riv leaned against the door to the room he’d left the female in.
He hadn’t seen her since earlier that evening when she’d been watching him through the window, and for some reason, he was interested to know what she’d been doing all that time.
From the looks of it, she hadn’t exited the room to search his house, which he appreciated.
It meant she probably hadn’t left the room at all.
He believed his theory to be true because his tevsi, Grot, had caught her scent as soon as he’d entered the dwelling. The tevsi had bounded straight to her room, which meant that’s where her scent was the strongest.
He’d found Grot trying to claw his way inside and had to send him to bed.
Leaning against the door now, Riv placed an ear against it and listened.
He couldn’t hear a thing.
There was no way she was sleeping after the racket Grot had made. But if she was, that made his dark-cycle easier. It meant not seeing her till the next light-cycle.
Pleased with that, he was about to walk away when something terrible happened.
He didn’t know if he pressed the panel that opened the door by accident or if she’d opened it on her end, but the next thing he knew was that the door slid open and the human was standing right there.
Not only was she standing there but she must have lost her balance or something because she was suddenly falling against him.
As she made contact with his chest, a soft exclamation left her lips.
His arms went around her immediately, out of pure instinct to stop her from falling, and the shock of it made his eyes widen to meet hers.
She was cradled against him, her soft figure pressed against his hard one, as they both froze, staring at each other.
She recovered first, regaining her balance and righting herself and with that movement, he pulled his arms away from her.
She was saying something, which he assumed was an apology of some kind judging from her tone, but it sounded far, far away in the background. Even if he could understand her words, he wasn’t listening…couldn’t listen.
That one touch…
The feel of someone against him…
Swallowing hard, he blinked a few times to focus.
She finished speaking, her brown eyes hitting him with deep consternation, and he wasn’t sure what he should do.
So he did nothing.
With a grunt, he jerked his head at her in greeting and a farewell, turned, and walked back down the corridor to his room.
10
Maybe she had a knack for getting into trouble or maybe someone had put a hex on her while she was on Earth, but she couldn’t have made up the events of her life even if she’d tried.
If she ever did make it back to California, she’d write a book.
A memoir.
Lauren the Not so Lucky.
It’d sell heaps.
Staring upward at nothing in particular, she wrung her hands as she lay flat on her back.
It was morning and she’d spent much of the night before thinking about the fact she’d made a fool of herself in front of Riv.
She’d been leaning against the door for much longer than she’d care to admit when he’d opened it and she’d lost her balance and fallen directly against him…
Ugh.
She’d said sorry, explaining that she was just clumsy, falling over her own two feet but he’d only looked at her strangely and walked away.
Nothing said.
Huffing out a breath, she folded her lips and pulled out one of the meal bars from her pocket.
The thing was as hard as a rock and she was pretty sure it was made for an animal that constantly grew teeth that needed to be filed down—like a guinea pig or something.
Maybe that’s what the zookeeper had seen her as.
A little rodent that needed meal bars.
God, she didn’t miss that place. Just thinking about the terrarium made the hairs on her skin bristle.
It hadn’t been a living space. It had been a cell.
One that she’d convinced herself was home. One she’d told herself wasn’t so bad because things could have been far worse.
Judging from how some of the visitors had looked at her, some even miming in front of her just what they’d like to do with her, she’d reckoned that living on the outside of that transparent barrier had to be worse than being enclosed behind it.
And now she was out.
It was so strange waking up in a different place.
Back at the zoo, as soon as she’d wake up her eyes would move to the transparent barrier that sealed her in. Ninety percent of the time, there’d be someone there looking back at her.
Today when she’d awakened, her gaze had moved automatically, expecting to see the view outside the terrarium. Except, all she saw was a wall.
For a few seconds, her brain didn’t compute what she was seeing. It took a few moments for the events of the day before to return to her and with that came the memory of her falling out of the room and unto her host.
Grinding the meal bar against her teeth till her saliva softened it enough to bite off a small piece, Lauren moved toward the window and looked outside.
The sky was a reddish pink that took her breath away. It was a beauty to look at.
Back at the zoo, she hadn’t been able to see the sky.
All she’d had were the artificial ultraviolet lights, which she’d found out were ultraviolet because the zookeeper had so kindly pointed that out to her on several occasions, as if he’d been doing her a massive favor.
The cow-hippos were moving about
