Page 67 of How My Fake Alien Boyfriend Learned to Cook and Saved the Family Business

It took a flurry of phone notifications to pull me away. Space, I reminded myself. I’d promised myself I would give him space.

I cleared my throat and wiggled awkwardly out of Kal’s embrace.

When I’d accepted an invitation to celebrate Southern Charm’s newfound success with my family in the main house, Kal had said he wanted to stay back in my apartment. Alone. I didn’t push him on it.

Space, Lola.

Between the hugs from Mom and Dad, and the near-endless refills of my wineglass, I tried not to think about how one of the most romantic things someone had ever said to me sounded a lot like goodbye.

Kal

Of all the screwups I’d made in my lifetime, I didn’t know which was worse. That I had fallen in love with Lola, that I decided not to tell her when I had the chance, or that I left without saying goodbye.

It was the cowardly thing to do, which meant it was, of course, the choice I was always going to make. That was my way, wasn’t it?

I was always leaving a wreck in my wake.

The crackle of the comms deck was barely louder than the overhead fan, but I heard it right away. Perfect timing. I was just finishing up in Lola’s small kitchen, leaving one last trace of myself before leaving for good.

Another crackle, accompanied by a pop and a tinny voice announcing a Xaerean ship’s imminent arrival.

My emergency pack was lighter than when I’d first pulled it from the pod, but it felt heavy as I slung it over my shoulder. The human suit, well worn in and now almost as familiar to me as my own skin, squeezed tightly as I stepped outside of Lola’s apartment and down the stairs. I’d considered not wearing it at all, but it would have been just my luck to get caught by a stranger in my final hours on Earth.

I remembered the route to my crash site like it was just yesterday, and the bright light of the moon illuminated my walk, only wavering once I hit the edge of the forest.

And then I was back in the clearing between the trees, in the spot that changed my life—where I saw Earth for the first time. Where, also for the first time, one of my screwups set off a series of events that changed my life for the better.

I would miss this place. The blue sky and green landscape. Soft, fragrant, peaty ground and a world so alive you couldn’t help but feel it in your very core. Earth was a place full of beauty and flowers, butterflies and cinnamon rolls, and the most incredible woman in the universe.

If I had been a real terranaut, on Earth for a real mission, I would have had the responsibility of documenting significant findings and sending field notes back to command. The environment, the population, the terrain, the customs. I knew, from years of working in the Exploratory Unit, what they would want to know.

But as I sat on the ground, feeling the cool dirt seep the warmth from my human suit, I thought the only thing worth documenting was a beautiful woman with dazzling blue eyes, a soft body, and bright pink hair. I believed I could have built a life around Lola if given the chance.

A persistent beeping from the comms deck startled me out of my daydreams.

“Landing procedure has commenced. Please stand by. Repeat: Landing procedure has commenced. Please stand by.”

The sky flashed hot-white and purple, a boom thundering through the atmosphere.

And I knew with immediate clarity that while I might have been returning to Xaerea, I wouldn’t be returning home.

As long as Lola was on Earth, I knew my home would always be there, too.

Lola

Despite being exhausted and despite the heaviness of whatever was going on with Kal, I still managed to get so caught up in celebrating the success of Southern Charm’s reopening with my family that I’d lost track of time. Dad had already gone to bed, and Mom was yawning loud and long enough for me to take the hint. But Jacob was still awake, and I was enjoying our easy banter as we played a very non-rules-compliant game of Uno for two.

It wasn’t until the lights began to flicker and the electronics started to glitch—static, erratic beeping—that I even thought to look at the time. I tried to read the clock over the kitchen sink, but the lights went out completely.

They came back on a second later, and the clock told me it was nearly midnight. I needed to go home to be with Kal.

But as I uncrossed my legs to stand from the couch, the dark night sky outside the living-room window split in two from a streak of blindingly bright purple lightning. The foundation-shaking boom came next. And then, like déjà vu, the lights went out all at once. Complete darkness.

“It’s happening again!” Jacob rushed to the window. His body was silhouetted by the dim glow of the moon.

“What’s happening again?” Mom called from down the hall. I could hear her flipping the light switch off-on, off-on. “And can someone go down and check the breaker?”

For some reason, it was that mundane question that got my butt moving.