“Hey,” he answered awkwardly. He rocked forward on his toes like he might move toward her, but then he rocked back.
In the past, any awkwardness between them had vanished under sex. A lot of sex. Whenever she’d lost her temper with him and tried out one or two of the other crew, she’d come back and found that his warm hands skimming across her skin made everything else vanish. Now she couldn’t really face the idea of anyone touching her at all.
“We’re putting into a station. Rough Shade.” He looked everywhere but at her.
She hummed and nodded. When she turned to head toward her sleeping quarters, they walked shoulder to shoulder. Ashwin Little stepped into a side passage to let them pass.
Mostly though, they only encountered phantoms. They passed the women’s dorm Allie had shared with Honshi Quin and the corridor that led to the training room that had been Grienbeck’s favorite spot and where Jacqs was always working out on the weights.
“If you don’t want me around, you can tell me to fuck off,” Shank suggested.
She stopped. “I never said...”
Shank looked at her, his brow drawn down into an expression that came closer to despair than sadness.
“I don’t want you to go away,” she said softly. It was an honest truth but not the entire one.
“But you don’t want me to touch you,” he finished. He reached for her, and she had to steel herself to avoid flinching as he rested his hand against her shoulder.
“I don’t...” She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. She couldn’t keep her balance around him. She was terrified of falling in love only to have Command take him away as cruelly as they’d taken other members of the crew. Shank had barely survived his last mission, and most of the crew who’d gone with him hadn’t.
She couldn’t face living through that hell again. Considering that Security Central had set off a nuclear weapon while Shank was outside the ship, he was probably dying now. True, it would take thirty or forty years for the damage to show up, but when she looked at him, it was like she could see a future where life stole him away.
Before when they’d been just having sex, it’d been fun. Invigorating. Exciting. He’d tasted her skin and whispered blessings in a language she hadn’t known existed. But now...every time he touched her, a black fear rose up and blotted out every speck of light. What if she lost him?
“I’ll wait,” he said.
She fantasized about his long black hair brushing over her breasts, of laughing as it got caught under them as they rolled in the narrow bunk, of his fingers curling into the bedding as she teased him until he begged for release.
“You shouldn’t have to,” she whispered.
“But I will anyway.”
She looked into his dark eyes, and that fear rose up so strongly that the few bites of food she’d gotten down threatened to crawl up her throat. She was running for a bathroom before she realized it. “Allie!” he called after her.
“Go away!” she screamed before turning into the men’s bunk room. It was the closest toilet, and she wasn’t going to make it any farther.
By the time she had finished heaving, her throat burned, and the men who’d been in the room had vanished. Shank was nowhere to be seen, and Allie leaned against the cool metal wall and wondered if she shouldn’t report herself as absolutely fucking nuts. She was pretty sure she’d lost it somewhere along the line.
The worst part was it was so damn illogical to lose it now. Yeah, theCandiruhad lost crew. Every unit did. The war was over. She’d survived. She just couldn’t figure out how to get her head to accept these simple truths.
