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When I next turn around, Juliet is there, cheeks pink and eyes bright. “Where do you want to go for drinks?”
She is wearing different clothing than before. More of her skin is bared now. All of her arms and from the knees down.
Is it an invitation for mating? This is all so much more complex than I first assumed.
“Shak?”
“Yes?” My eyes jerk back from staring at her knees.
She laughs a little. “Where do you want to go for drinks?”
“Oh.” I glance around us. “I do not know. I am not familiar with the area. Where do you like to go for…drinks?”
She smiles and then slips her thin, delicate arm through mine. I startle at the easy contact but then attempt to act as if I am familiar with the gesture.
“There’s a little pub just a block from here that I like to go to sometimes.”
I nod, too distracted by the feel of her skin on mine to say much else. I am glad I opted for a chest covering that stopped at my elbows today instead of one that went all the way to my wrists. The feel of her soft, cool skin against mine… It is indescribable.
Everything about Juliet is a wonder.
“So…” Juliet starts. “Have you been having a good week?”
“It has improved.”
She looks up, flashing her bright blue eyes my direction. “Why, what was wrong with the first part of your week?”
“You did not come into the shop.”
She rolls her eyes and withdraws her arm, giving me a small slap on the bicep.
I frown. “Did I say something wrong?” I have lost her touch and I do not know why.
“You don’t have to feed me a line.”
“A line?” She must see the abject confusion on my face because her features soften. “You know, a line. Things guys say just to sound smooth.”
“Smooth,” I repeat as if that will make the word make more sense.
“You know, a lie to smooth things over.”
“I am not lying,” I exclaim. “You are the best part of my week. I was worried when you did not come in. I worried I had offended you. Or that you were unsafe.”
“Oh,” she says and again her cheeks flush.
“Why does that happen?” I point at her cheek. “Why do they go pink sometimes?”
“Oh my God.” Her hands fly to her face, covering the pink.
“What have I said wrong now?” I am making a blunder of this. She will not want me to be her boyfriend if I do not stop it.
“I am sorry,” I hurry to say. Ezo made sure to drill me on this particular three word saying. He swore it was one that human males need to repeat often.
Juliet drops her hands from her cheeks. “Don’t be.” She smiles at me. “It’s refreshing to be around someone who says what they are thinking. The pink cheeks thing, it’s called blushing. Do people not blush where you’re from?”
Oh. How do I answer this? “I have not spent much time around females before.”
Her eyebrows arch in surprise. “I have a hard time believing that.”
“It is true.”
She still looks at me as if she does not believe me. “Were you in the military or something?”
Military. I know this word and while my people have not fought wars in many centuries, the only duties I have been allowed to perform on the ship during our long journey here do share some similarities.
“I lived in an all-male barracks but we did not do any fighting. I spent many years on maintenance crews taking care of heavy machinery.”
“Oh.” She nods. “That makes sense.” Then she peers up at me. “How old are you?”
“28.” They prepared us for that question. Humans live such short lifespans in comparison to the Draci. “May we touch arms again now?”
Juliet looks startled and gives a little laugh but nods and again links her arm through mine.
We soon arrive at the pub Juliet spoke of. I open the door for her and she leads me to a small, secluded booth in the corner. When another female comes by and asks us what we would like to drink, Juliet orders confidently. Then they both look to me.
“I will have the same.” None of the words on the menu make much sense to me anyway. Ezo would be quite disgusted with me for not learning more about earth food.
But I do not care about food. I only care about the female sitting across from me. “Tell me everything about you. I want to know it all.”
“Um,” she laughs. “I don’t know. I grew up around here. Started college. Quit college. Tried to start again. Quit again. I always liked books so I got into freelance editing. I can work from home and it pays the bills, so…” She shrugs and her face looks pained. “Not very exciting.”
Her cheeks are turning pink again. Blushing. She still never explained why it happens but I think I am beginning to understand. She feels discomfort talking about herself like this. She does not believe she is interesting enough for conversation. She could not be further from the truth.
