Page 77 of For the Strange and Surprising

I find myself reminiscing as we leave the village. I don’t know if I can call Rinya or the guys friends, but they’re more than I had before I got here. Having people to depend on feels foreign to me after spending so much time alone.

I can’t tell if it's good or not.

There are many small things I miss from Earth, but there are also things I’ll miss about Spiran if I leave…

Like the people.

25

Connak

Day Nineteen

I’m looking forward to my day with Ada. I don’t have anything planned, but that doesn’t matter. Spending time with her is liberating. And the skip in my step becomes more pronounced as I get closer to her.

Being with Ada is like running through the forest, wild and uncaring, while the sun beams through the canopy. The rays hit my back as they light the path least traveled. There’s always a discovery, whether it be a surprise or a nugget of her background.

I tap out a rhythmic knock on her door. She opens it with a seductive grin, grabbing my hand to yank me inside her room.

“I’ve been waiting for you all morning, Connak,” she purrs.

My back hits the wall as her fingers weave through my hair. She drags my lips down to meet hers, swallowing my lusty groan, and—

Oh.

Oh, no.

I stare at the outside of Ada’s door, swallowing my frustrated groan. I should not be daydreaming right now.

Did I knock already?

“Come in,” she yells.

Damn. Okay, I did knock. She sounds pissed.

“If this is the island version of ding-dong ditching, I might just snap today.”

Ada snatches the door open, then frowns. “Did you not hear me?”

“Uhm, yeah.”

“Is there a reason why you’re staring so miserably at my door? You look like something is bothering you, Connak.”

“Good.” I clear my throat and correct myself. “I'm good. Everything is good. I came to pick you up.”

“Okay.” She smiles suspiciously before tipping her head. “I need to change, and then I’m ready.”

As she glides into her bathroom, I lean against the threshold of her bedroom. That white shirt she’s wearing seems awfully familiar, but she’s got the length of it tied in a knot and the sleeves bunched up.

“I hope you’re ready to kneel,” Ada playfully announces.

I bump my head into the wall, trying to regain my senses. She does not mean drop to my knees and worship her, but I wish she did. Then I recall the conversation about why I said I would kneel.

“You got Isolde to make—Wow.”

She twirls, and her hair fans to reveal a strappy back to her deep purple shirt. There’s a row of gold buttons toward the waist of her pants that match the specks in her hazel eyes. And fuck. I’m speechless.

“Not only did Isolde make me pants, but she also made some for herself too.” She grins with smug victory.