The observation made my chest tight with something that felt like hope. "He said I see possibilities where he sees constraints."
"Sounds about right." Elena grinned. "Just try not to be too disgustingly happy tomorrow at breakfast, okay? Some of us are still working on our own complicated feelings about certain insufferable security officers."
"Vaxon?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
"But—"
"Nope. Tonight is about your triumph. We'll deal with my disaster another time." She palmed open the door to our quarters. "Come on. Bea's going to want details, and I'm going to want to gloat about winning the bet."
I followed her inside, still smiling, my lips still tingling from Zor'go's careful, devastating kisses.
Tomorrow we'd figure out thermal pockets and ventilation flows. Tomorrow we'd navigate the complications of working together while also caring about each other. Tomorrow we'd face questions from the crew and potential complications with protocols and all the practical considerations that came with two very different beings deciding to take a chance on something unprecedented.
But tonight I was just going to let myself be happy.
Chapter 8
The data scrolling across my workstation refused to make sense, which was impossible because data always made sense. Variables, patterns, equations followed rules. They didn't shift and blur just because a certain small human architect had kissed my cheek three hours ago.
I reset the holographic display for the fourth time. The habitat expansion's power distribution network hung before me in luminous precision, every conduit and junction point mapped with mathematical perfection. The calculations were flawless. The integration was seamless.
And I couldn't focus on any of it.
My hand kept rising to touch the spot where Jalina's lips had pressed against my skin. The sensation lingered like a phantom echo as warm, soft, impossibly gentle. I'd catalogued seventeen thousand distinct tactile experiences in my professional career, from the molecular vibration of active plasma cores to the crystalline structure of frozen atmospheric processors. None of them had affected my cognitive function like this.
It was inefficient.
It was distracting.
It was magnificent.
"You're doing it again."
I didn't turn from the display. Kex'tar's purple-skinned reflection appeared in the transparent viewport behind my desk, his expression radiating the particular brand of amusement he reserved for my most predictable behaviors.
"Doing what?" I asked, though I knew precisely what he meant.
"Touching your face. You've done it forty-seven times since I entered your office." He moved closer, his second-in-command authority allowing him liberties others wouldn't dare. "Which is approximately forty-seven times more than you've touched your face in the three years I've known you."
"I'm evaluating dermal sensitivity. There's a hypothesis regarding human biochemistry that?—"
"Stop." Kex'tar held up one four-fingered hand. "I've watched Er'dox try to rationalize his way through falling for Dana. I don't need a repeat performance with worse technical jargon."
I finally turned to face him. "I'm not falling."
"You're plummeting." He gestured at my office, which admittedly looked different than usual. My normally pristine workspace now contained several items that hadn't been there yesterday: a small potted plant Jalina had brought me after seeing mysterile work environment, a hand-sketched design study she'd forgotten on my desk, and, most damning, a half-empty container of the Earth beverage she called coffee that I'd been unable to dispose of because it still carried traces of her scent.
"Those are collaborative project materials," I said.
"That's a love nest." Kex'tar settled into the chair Jalina had occupied during our morning session, his large frame somehow fitting into the space she'd made seem cozy. "When do you plan to tell her?"
"Tell her what?"
"That you're obsessed with her. That you think about her constantly. That you've reorganized your entire schedule around daily meetings you could easily conduct via comm channels." He paused. "That you're terrified."
The last word landed with uncomfortable accuracy. I manipulated the holographic display, ostensibly reviewing traffic flow patterns but actually avoiding his knowing gaze.
