The face that looks back at me is sharper than it was before captivity. The bones are more prominent, and the angles harder. But my eyes are clear, and there is color in my scales that was not there four months ago. I look like someone who is healing.
I look like someone who is looking forward to dinner.
I run my fingers through my damp hair, letting it fall in loose golden waves around my shoulders. I adjust the neckline of my top. I consider braiding my hair into something more elaborate, but dismiss the thought, deciding to leave it loose. If things go well, I like the idea of him running his fingers through it.
Then I stop fussing, because I am A'Vanti, and I do not fuss.
CHAPTER 9
Cody
The shower is incredible. Not just because I'm washing off half the Cerastean desert, though that's definitely part of it. There's something about standing under the hot pounding spray of water that quiets my mind, and right now my mind needs quieting. Because all I can think about is tonight, and A'Vanti. I give myself a firm remindernotto go full throttle like I want to. I need to let her set the pace.
This would work better if I could stop replaying the softness of her knuckles beneath my lips. Or the way her eyes fixed on my mouth with what I'm almost certain was longing.
By the time I'm dressed and presentable, I've got almost an hour before I told A'Vanti I'd find her. I spend five of those remaining minutes pacing my quarters like I'm having a manic episode, and another five trying to figure out what exactly I'm doing.
This is a date.Right?Yeah, it's definitely a date. We had what was arguably the most incredible kiss of my life back in the transport, and now we're sharing a meal, just the two of us. That's a date.
Unless it's not a date and I'm reading everything wrong, and she is only interested in sharing dinner with a colleague.
I'm a fighter pilot, for God's sake. I've flown combat missions and faced down enemy fire. I've made split-second decisions with lives on the line. I should not be this nervous about dinner.
I run my hand through my still-damp hair and take a breath. "Get it together, Johnson."
But even as I say it, a thought nags at me. If thisisa date, and I'm choosing to believe it is, then I should step up. Make some kind of effort. Show her what she means to me.
And then it hits me. I know exactly what to do.
I'm out the door before I can second-guess myself.
It takes me the better part of forty minutes to pull it all together, but I manage. Barely. By the time A'Vanti walks into the galley, I'm leaning against the counter, trying to look like I haven't been sprinting around the hangar like a madman.
She's changed out of her dusty field gear into soft-looking pants and a dark turquoise top that makes her scales seem to shimmer. Her hair is down, golden waves falling loose around her shoulders. Seeing her like this, relaxed and unguarded, makes my mouth go dry as the desert outside. The smooth opening line I had prepared evaporates on my tongue.
When A'Vanti spots me waiting in the galley, she smiles. "Cody, thank you for inviting me to dinner. I'm excited for our meal."
And just like that, every nervous thought in my head goes quiet.
"You found me," I say, which is about as smooth as a crash landing, but she doesn't seem to mind.
"You were not difficult to locate." She crosses to where I'm standing and tilts her head, studying me with those striking golden eyes. "You look… refreshed."
"I was going to say the same thing about you." I nod toward the synthesizer. "Hungry?"
"Yes, very."
We move to the synthesizer together, and A'Vanti scrolls through the options.
"This one," she says, selecting her meal. "Chariom noodles. It was my favorite comfort food as a child. My mother made them whenever I had a difficult day."
The synthesizer hums to life, and a few moments later, a steaming bowl of deep red noodles materializes. The smell hits me immediately, rich and complex, with an underlying heat that makes my nose tingle.
She adds a drink to her order, some kind of pale-yellow juice that she calls verak nectar, and then steps aside so I can take my turn.
I input my own selection. I chose a cheeseburger, fries, and a soda, because I'm nothing if not predictable. When our food is ready, A'Vanti turns toward the long table in the galley.
"Actually," I say, "I have something else in mind. Follow me?"
