Page 16 of Alien War Daddy's Got Rizz
Curiosity.
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
We talk through the meal — real talk. Not corporate tiptoeing or professional smiles. Not posturing or guarded small talk.
Just us.
I ask him about the Brothel Goat Incident again. He tells it more dramatically this time, with accents and flailing gestures that make everyone within a three-meter radius look at us like we’re entertainment.
I laugh so hard I almost snort.
And suddenly it feels like — for one fleeting, ridiculous, shimmering moment — I’m not CEO of a dying company anymore.
I’m just a woman having dinner with someone who sees her.
Reallyseesher.
I never knew how much I needed that.
When the plates are cleared, when the lights dim a fraction to signal dessert time, I realize it’s nearly over.
The music shifts — softer, slower, like a sigh.
I feel disappointment.
Stupid, unwelcome, unnecessary disappointment.
Grau seems to feel it too — I sense his awareness shift, not intrusive, not predatory, justattuned.
“You’ve been quiet,” he says.
“I’m processing,” I admit.
He nods, like that’s a perfectly valid thing to do in the middle of a date.
“I didn’t think I’d enjoy tonight,” I confess, looking down at my hands. My fingers are curled lightly around the stem of my glass, and I can feel the warmth of it seeping into my skin.
He watches me like my thoughts are a language he’s genuinely interested in learning.
“That’s fair,” he says. “Most people don’t enjoy meeting their terrifying oblivion on a night out.”
I snort, almost spilling wine.
“Terrifying is a matter of perspective,” I say.
He grins — one of those little half-smirks that make his eyes flash.
“From where I’m standing,” he says, “you seem more fascinating than terrifying.”
And Ialmostbelieve him.
Almost.
The city smells different at night.
Less like ozone and hot steel, more like memory. The air has that distinct sweetness that only comes when the hover lanes thin out and the neon lights pulse softer, like a heartbeat slowing before sleep.
My heels tap against the plasteel walkway as I step beside him. I shouldn’t be out here. I shouldn’t be walking alongside a Reaper like we’re old friends sneaking out after curfew. My security detail would probably have a synchronized panic attack if they could see this.
