“I’m still sorry,” she said.
“Was it satisfying?” I asked.
“Hell, yes.” She flicked her loose hair over her shoulder. “Until I felt awful for doing it.”
“If it’s any consolation, I’m pretty sure Jax feels awful, too.”
Fiona stared blankly past me. “It’s not, actually.” Focusing on me again, she slung the strap of her satchel over her shoulder, letting the bulky bag hang against her hip. “How are things with Shade?”
I hummed a satisfied sound, volcanic warmth instantly filling me.
“That good, huh?” She arched her brows, looking eager for details.
I lowered my tone, confidential. “I keep getting these shocks of feeling inside me. Little zaps and jolts when I think about him. And the stuff we do together. It’s like I’m all twisted up and on fire, but in a good way, you know?” I felt myself flush. I wasn’t used to talking to Fiona this way. Toanyonethis way. Even at the orphanage, I’d never engaged in much girl-talk. I was either shadowing Mareeka, taking care of Coltin, or spending time with Gabe. This was new to me. And I liked it.
Fiona smiled. “Enjoy it. You deserve it.” She held up a hand in caution. “As long as you’re sure Shade’s not going to go back to being part of the evil galactic machine of oppression.”
“I don’t think he ever wanted to be part of the evil galactic machine of oppression.”
“In that case, fuck like flervers,” she said.
I cracked up, and Fiona laughed with me.
“You don’t even know what a flerver looks like,” I said, still laughing.
“I looked them up. Apparently, they’re a midsized semiaquatic rodent native to Albion 5 that have an average of fifteen offspring a year, so ‘fuck like flervers’ seems like a pretty appropriate analogy to me.”
“Holy Sky Mother. Fifteen!” I shuddered. “Busy little beasts.”
“Busier than I am, that’s for sure.” Sighing, Fiona asked, “Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve been kissed? Let alone any of the rest of it?”
“Five years?” I guessed.
She nodded, her expression souring.
Fiona had been intimate with her partner on Hourglass Mile. There hadn’t been any question of that between Jax and me. He’d been grieving his family, and I’d just lost Gabe. I hadn’t looked twice at a man in seven years until Shade came into my life.
“Jax will come around,” I said, hoping it was true.
“Do you think he knows how I feel?” Looking down, Fiona scraped at the frayed edge of her bag with her fingernail.
I answered to the best of my knowledge. “I don’t know. I think he feels it, though, regardless of knowing whether you reciprocate or not. His fear is holding him back.”
She looked back up. “Maybe he wouldn’t be afraid if I make it clear I’m interested.”
“He’s not afraid of rejection.”
“Yeah, I know.” She looked down again.
A knot formed in my throat. I loved Jax so much. I wanted him to be happy. He’d be forty in a few years. Life was passing him by, and he wasn’tlivingit. I loved Fiona, too. “You’re the one thing that can drag him out of the past and bring him joy again. Please don’t give up. He needs you.”
“I’m not sure he wants to be happy.” Her voice wavered. She swallowed. “It’s like he doesn’t think he deserves it. Not when his wife and kids are all dead.”
Unfortunately, I agreed, even though I hated it. “But that’s only half of it. He’s terrified of actually getting what he wants and then losing it—just like he lost them.”
Fiona took a deep breath, steadying herself. “It’s not as though I can claim a danger-free existence as a push in the right direction.”
“No, but keep wearing that corset, and he’ll crack. Hell,Ialmost want to kiss you, you look so good.”
