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I peered over her shoulder, her messy bun brushing against my chin. “How did you do that?”

She turned and looked at me, straight on, no suggestion she wanted to get closer and see what my mouth felt like against hers. This was all business.

“Before I answer, you want to tell me what she’s hiding? Or do I let her tell me herself, and we both confirm you’re a douchebag?”

Chapter 7

Cass

Rennick didn’t reply, which told me more than whatever lie he’d been rehearsing about this freaky ship and why a hidden door had just unlocked.

I stepped back before I punched him, or kissed him, since that mouth of his looked sinful, turned away from his looming bulk that smelled like he’d used half a bar of my soap, and stepped inside the Hollow Chorus. This was the job. I was here for this ship, not Rennick.

The walls pulsed softly as I walked past them, as if in greeting. Or maybe they were counting down to go boom.

“I’ll go first.” Rennick tried to nudge past me.

I nudged back with my wrench, hitting a wall of muscle. “Stay out of my space and let me work.”

He half-smiled, barely resisting my prod before nodding. This huge alien was learning.

I strode to the section that had opened, the warm light inside beckoning me closer. It was twice the size of the mess hall, and the air warmed as I entered. Gold veins in the resin walls brightened to a steady glow, and the temperature settled into a cozy warmth that made me want to take a nap if there weren’t spooky shenanigans to figure out.

When Rennick followed, the glow dimmed, and the temperature dropped in the time it took him to clear the doorway.

“Your ship likes me better than you.” I didn’t look back to see his pissed-off expression. Didn’t need to.

Good girl. We understand each other. Or at least, we’re making progress. Who needs a scowling alpha to fix things when you have a hot chick who can defuse a Klignag detonator in under twenty seconds?

“She’s never opened this section to me.” Rennick’s voice had gone careful, almost whisper level, as if he were concerned about annoying the Hollow Chorus. “Not for any of the crews.”

“Maybe they didn’t ask nicely enough. We’ve been talking for an hour, and she’s only hissed at me twice.”

“Hissed?”

“Joke. It was more of a growl.”

He came up beside me, and I got another hit of cedar soap on his skin. His hair was damp against his collar, curling where it had dried. He’d used my shampoo, most likely my towel, and slept in my sheets that I’d forgotten to have changed. It didn’t matter. Rennick had been beat last night and would have slept anywhere.

I’d thought about that before crashing out. Rennick in my bed. I gave my bed to this alien, while I’d grabbed a few hours in the bunk room we had in the crew bay at the back of the building. I hated communal sleeping, which was why I kept a private room, but last night, I’d chosen his comfort over mine.

It was the two point six million, that was why.

I looked at him. The breadth of his shoulders under that shirt, where my ankles could comfortably rest. The way his throat moved when he swallowed. Those big, capable hands that had caught burning debris an inch from my skull. He’d saved my life. I should give him a proper thank you.

Later.

I had priorities. But later was a promise to work on those ideas, not a postponement. Tambi had been clear. Don’t fuck up this job by fucking the client. But there was fucking, and then there was fucking.

I didn’t do the latter. Getting laid involved multiple orgasms, a welcome ache between my legs for a day, and a notch on the bedpost. I had everything else I needed.

Rennick would be my new notch.

“What is this place?” I crossed the room, giving myself the distance I needed to stop breathing him in.

The walls curved inward overhead, ribs of grown resin arching to a central point like the inside of a cathedral. Alcoves lined both sides, recessed into the hull. Channels ran between them, shallow grooves carved into the structure, designed to carry something from one alcove to the next.

All of it was running. A low hum sat underneath the silence, like a machine left on standby that nobody had come back to switch off.