Page 238 of Destined For Her Alien Daddy

“Because now there is no excuse,” I say.

She looks up. “For what?”

“For wanting.”

The room becomes still around the word.

Anita’s throat moves. Her fingers tighten around mine, and the tiny pressure travels through me with more force than gunfire. “Yeah,” she whispers. “That.”

I shift carefully, making room beside me. “Come here.”

“Your ribs.”

“My ribs are not involved in holding you.”

“That is anatomically debatable.”

“Anita.”

“Fine. But if you grimace heroically, I will become unbearable.”

“You already are.”

She climbs onto the bed with exaggerated caution, muttering under her breath about stubborn giant men and medical noncompliance. Then she settles beside me, not against the injured side but close enough that her shoulder touches my arm. The warmth of her body changes the room. It brings life into the sterile quiet. Citrus tea, clean fabric, her skin, the faint mineral scent that still clings to her hair no matter how many decontamination cycles she endured.

For several moments, we simply sit.

No one runs.

No one bleeds newly.

No one demands custody of the truth.

Anita rests her head against my uninjured shoulder. “I don’t know how to be peaceful.”

“I was just thinking the same thing.”

“That’s depressing. You’re supposed to be the disciplined one.”

“Discipline is not peace.”

“No. I guess not.”

Her hand rests over mine. Her thumb traces the edge of one claw, careful and curious. I watch the movement with a tenderness that frightens me less than it once would have. She is not examining me like an artifact. She is learning me like someone allowed to stay.

“I was afraid of loving you,” I say.

Her thumb stops.

I feel her go still against me. “Because of the bond?”

“Yes.”

She does not pull away. “Tell me.”

The invitation is quiet and brave.

I look toward the viewport, where the stars remain ordinary and therefore kind. “When we first touched, I felt recognition before I knew you. I saw you through the bond and thought the universe had made a decision on my behalf. Part of me wanted to surrender to it because surrender would have been easier than doubt. Another part of me hated it.”