Probably both.
But as my legs protested the downward climb and I watched Torven’s careful, protective way of making sure I didn’t stumble, I realized I didn’t really care which it was.
For the first time since we’d crashed, I was looking forward to finding out what happened next.
CHAPTER 9
TORVEN
Ilay on my back on the hard floor of the control room, staring up at the darkened ceiling and listening to Zara breathe beside me. The synthetic blankets we’d salvaged from the residential quarters weren’t much, but they were better than nothing. Most of the bedding had disintegrated the moment we tried to move it, decades of neglect having reduced it to dust and fragments. Only a few items made from synthetic materials had survived.
Zara’s breathing was too controlled, too measured. She wasn’t asleep. She was lying there pretending to sleep, just like I was pretending to sleep, both of us well aware of the other’s presence in the darkness.
The kiss from earlier replayed in my mind for the hundredth time. The soft warmth of her lips, the way she’d wound her arms around my neck, the little sound she made when I pulled her closer. My body responded to the memory with predictable results, and I shifted uncomfortably, trying to will away the persistent hardness between my legs.
This was torture. Pure, exquisite torture.
I wanted to reach for her. I wanted to pull her against me and kiss her until she made those sounds again. I wanted to run my hands through her hair and discover if her skin was as soft everywhere as it was on her face. I wanted to find out what she looked like when she came apart in my arms.
Stop,I commanded myself.This is exactly the kind of thinking that’s going to get you both in trouble.
But my treacherous mind wouldn’t cooperate. Every small movement she made, every shift of the blanket, every quiet sigh sent fresh waves of awareness through me. The scent of her hair, the warmth radiating from her body just arm’s length away—it was driving me to distraction.
I absently scratched at my neck, where an irritating itch had been bothering me for the past few hours. Probably a reaction to one of those strange luminescent plants we’d encountered near the water tanks. My skin had always been sensitive to certain alien vegetation.
“Torven?” Zara’s voice cut through the darkness, soft but alert.
My entire body went rigid. “Yes?”
I heard the rustle of fabric as she rolled to face me, and then I turned my head to look at her. She peered at me with the same look she gave to a challenging piece of equipment.
“What do you feel for me?” Her voice was direct and clear. “If anything.”
There would be no avoiding this question when she asked it like this. Leave it to Zara to cut straight to the heart of the matter with no preamble, no subtle leading up to the topic.Just her typical scientific approach: identify the problem and examine it head-on.
I rolled to my side and propped my head on my hand. Even in the control room’s low, auxiliary light, I could see the serious expression on her face. She was studying me like I was one of her atmospheric readings, waiting for data.
“I…” I started, then stopped. What could I tell her? The truth? That she’d gotten under my skin in a way that terrified me? That I thought about her constantly, that the idea of losing her made my chest feel tight with panic?
That would be a mistake. Getting attached to people I was responsible for protecting had nearly destroyed me before. I couldn’t go down that path again.
“I find you attractive,” I said finally, choosing my words carefully. “But that’s nothing to worry about. Our circumstances are difficult, so it’s natural to seek comfort in another person.”
“That’s logical,” she said, her voice giving nothing away.
I nodded, trying to keep my voice light.Tryingto sound reasonable. “Exactly. It’s a normal response to stress and isolation.”
“So when you kissed me earlier, that was just you seeking comfort and connection? Nothing more?”
“Correct.” Ah, what a fucking lie, to use the human expletive. I was a no-goodtrankerfor saying this, when the truth was the absolute opposite.
“And I don’t mean anything to you beyond friendship and professional cooperation?”
Whywas she pushing this? “That’s right.”
She was quiet for a long moment, and I held my breath, waiting for her response.
“Okay,” she said finally, and I heard her turn away from me. “Thanks for being honest.”
