I kiss her deeper, and she kisses back just as hungrily. Her fingers curl into the fabric of my shirt, her nails scraping lightly through the material, and the sensation sends a shiver cascading down my spine. When her tongue touches mine, tentative and then bolder, the world narrows to a single burning point.
I don't know how long we stay like that, pressed to the wall of a ship corridor like two teenagers who've forgotten the rest of the universe exists. Long enough that my heart is hammering. Long enough that her breathing has gone ragged. Long enough that pulling away takes every ounce of willpower I have.
But I do pull away. Because I meant what I told myself in the shower, I will not rush this. She deserves better than a man who loses his head just because she's perfect and willing and kissing him like the world is ending.
I press my forehead to hers.
"I should let you sleep," I manage. My voice sounds like I've been gargling sand.
"Yes." Her voice isn't much steadier. "We have a long day tomorrow."
Neither of us moves.
"A'Vanti."
"Hmm?"
"I'm having a really hard time leaving."
Her laugh is breathless, and she presses one last kiss to the corner of my mouth – quick and light, a parting gift.
"Good night, Vel'shar," she murmurs. Then she slips through her door and it slides shut between us.
I stand in the corridor for a solid ten seconds, staring at her closed door like an idiot, my lips tingling and my pulse still hammering in my ears.
Vel'shar. She's called me that before. I don't know what it means, but the way she says it makes me think it's something good.
Then I push off the wall and start walking. Not toward my quarters. I have somewhere else to be first.
D'Rett's quarters are on the upper deck, in the section reserved for senior crew. I take the stairs two at a time, my mind working fast. An hour east, an hour back. If we wrap up tomorrow's assignments by late afternoon, that gives us a solid window before the second sun sets. D'Rett is careful but not unreasonable. If I frame it right?—
I reach his door and knock. Then immediately wonder if this was a terrible idea. It's late. He might be asleep. He might be?—
Footsteps, and then the door slides open. D'Rett fills the frame, a tablet in one hand, what looks like a logistics report glowing on its screen. He glances from the tablet to me, one brow ridge lifting.
Behind him, Chelsea is curled up on the bed in an oversized shirt, her own tablet propped on her knees, while L'Tarne sits behind her, methodically braiding her hair into a neat plait.
Three pairs of eyes turn to look at me.
"Goober." D'Rett frowns. "It's late. Is everything okay?"
Chelsea, however, has already zeroed in on something I can't see – the look on my face, or my mussed hair, or the fact that I'm slightly out of breath and grinning like a man who's lost his mind.
"Oh my god," she says, lowering her tablet. "Look at him. He's beaming like an idiot."
"I'm not beaming."
"You are absolutely beaming." She sits up so fast that the half-finished braid slips through L'Tarne's fingers. He lets out a sigh and begins patiently gathering the loose strands again. "You had dinner with A'Vanti, yeah? Tell us everything."
"Nothing happened. I—" I stop, regroup, and turn to D'Rett. "I have a request."
D'Rett steps back, arms folded. Behind him, Chelsea is practically vibrating. L'Tarne has abandoned the braid entirely now, leaning forward with the same gleeful expression as his mate.
"A'Vanti designed a building before her capture," I say. "A community center in a settlement called Brishar. It's about an hour's flight from here. She hasn't seen it since she was taken, and she doesn't know if it's still standing."
D'Rett's expression shifts from mild curiosity to focused.
"I'd like to take her there. Tomorrow, after we finish work for the day. I know we're on a tight schedule, and I wouldn't ask if I didn't think it mattered." I hold his gaze. "But it matters, D'Rett. To her. This isn't sightseeing. It's?—"
