Sasha stopped short when she saw it, putting a hand over her mouth as she giggled. “A tiki bar? The Drexians really thought of everything, didn’t they?”
A blonde bartender with small horns protruding from his hair looked up as we approached, his face breaking into a wide smile. “Welcome! What can I get for you?”
Sasha slid onto one of the rattan stools, the tension finally beginning to leave her shoulders. “Something fruity and strong.”
“Make that two,” I said, settling beside her.
As the bartender began mixing our drinks with theatrical flair, Sasha leaned close to whisper in my ear. “What kind of alien is he?”
I managed not to roll my eyes at the casual way she used the term, reminding myself that most humans still thought of non-humans as other. “A Neebix. They’re known for being enthusiastic about interpersonal connections.”
Sasha glanced at the bartender, who winked at her. “You mean they’re flirts?”
I nodded, unsure why she found this amusing. “I’m not sure why they were assigned to bartending positions on the tribute bride stations, aside from the fact that the Kronock destroyed their homeworld, and the Drexians wanted to help them find new careers.”
Sasha flicked a sidelong glance at the bartender, whose long, flexible tail was swishing behind him as he added garnishes to our drinks. “I can see how he might be a distraction for some women.” She turned to me with a grin that made my pulse skip. “Not that he’s my type.”
The comment sent warmth flooding through me, though I found myself afraid to ask what exactly her type was. The bartender slid our drinks across the bar, a pink paper umbrella curiously sticking out from the top of each.
Sasha picked up her drink and clinked it against mine. “Bottoms up!”
Another odd Earth saying, as Sasha didn’t lift her bottom from the stool. I took a sip from my glass and felt the alcohol hit my system immediately. Whatever the Neebix had mixed was potent enough to power a small transport.
“Do you want to talk about your father?” I asked after another sip.
Sasha made a face that suggested she’d rather discuss just about anything else. “Not even a real fiancé should have to listen to that therapy session.”
But I could tell that General Bowman’s arrival had shaken her more than she wanted to admit. The man had radiated disapproval and barely controlled hostility from the moment he’d set foot on the station.
She took another long sip of her drink, and I watched some of the tension leave her body as the alcohol worked its magic. “Dad was always hard on both Ariana and me, but it was me he expected the most from. Maybe because I was older or because I was most like him.”
There was pain in her voice, old wounds that had never properly healed.
“You are not like him,” I said gruffly.
She smiled at that. “Thanks, but you didn’t know the old me.” Her expression sobered. “He never gave Ariana as much attention, which seems like a blessing now, but at the time she felt rejected. That’s part of why we grew apart as we got older.”
I rested my hand on top of her hand on the bar.
She smiled, and her expression softened. “One of the best parts of this whole rescue situation was reconnecting with Ariana again. Without him there to pit us against each other, we actually got to be sisters for the first time in years.”
“And now he’s here,” I said quietly.
“And now he’s here,” she agreed, her voice tight. “I don’t want him to ruin everything again.”
Her vulnerability made my chest ache with protective instincts I hadn’t even known I possessed. “I won’t let him ruin anything.”
She gave me a smile that was slightly glassy around the edges. Then she leaned in and kissed me, soft and sweet and tasting of tropical fruit and strong alcohol.
“You know,” she said against my lips, “if we weren’t so much alike, you’d probably make a good husband.”
The words sent heat racing through my bloodstream, but before I could respond, she continued with the kind of honesty that only came from liquid courage. “I wouldn’t mind crawling into bed with you every night.”
The image her words conjured sent desire rushing south so fast it left me lightheaded. I was vaguely aware of the Neebix bartender raising his eyebrows, but I couldn’t bring myself to care about the audience.
“Maybe I should take you back to our suite,” I managed, my voice rougher than I’d intended. “To rest.”
Sasha leaned in close, her breath warm against my ear as she whispered, “You can take me back to our suite, but where’s the fun in resting?”
