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I return to the bridge and grab Bethiah’s hand, tugging it until she stands up. “Bedtime.”
“I’m surprised you want me in bed after all,” Bethiah jokes. “Here I thought I’d be sleeping on the bridge tonight.”
“Nope. We’re good.” I’m not going to hold a grudge. She’s trying, so I’m going to try and see it from her point of view and not freak out. I turn and hold a hand out to Jamef. “You too. Come on. We all need some sleep.”
His mouth curves into a little smile. “You two go ahead. I’ll do another scan of our route to make sure nothing’s changed, and then I’ll join you.”
“Okay.” I release Bethiah’s hand, move to his side and pull him down to kissing level, and plant one on him. “Don’t stay too long.”
“Never.”
With a pat to his chest, I move back to Bethiah’s side and we head down the hall and towards our quarters. She’s surprisingly quiet, and it takes me several minutes to realize this. It’s not until I’m crawling into bed in my sleep tunic that I realize Bethiah hasn’t said a word since we left the bridge.
I sit up in bed, hugging the blankets to my chest as I watch her. She’s in the lavatory, brushing her teeth and pretty much futzing around as if she’s not sure she wants to come to bed. I wait for her to finish with the tooth-brushing, but then she pulls her hair out of the loose braid she just put it in and begins to plait it again.
She’s totally stalling.
“You okay?” I ask. “You seem antsy.”
Bethiah finishes rebraiding her hair and then turns to me, an inscrutable expression on her face. “We should talk.”
“Oh no.”
She shakes her head, moving across the room to my side. She’s wearing her yellow sleep tunic, the one that matches my pink one. The sight of it makes me flush with pleasure, knowing that she’s picking it to match me. It looks better on her, I think, the long lines of it emphasizing her muscular torso and arms. She’s so pretty. “Nothing bad, fluffit. At least I hope not.” She grimaces to herself and then moves to my side, sitting on the edge of the bed. “We need to talk about you and me.”
“Okay…” I gesture at the door. “But if we’re talking relationship stuff, shouldn’t we bring in Jamef? He’s just as much a part of this.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t have any hang-ups about being with Jamef. You and I both know he’s a fantastic mate. It’s you and I that have the problems, and it’s you and I that need to talk things out.”
“Oh.” I fight the surge of hurt that threatens to rise up. She’s talking, and there’s no sense in getting hurt feelings until she actually explains. It’s hard not to, though, especially when she says I’m a problem. “Go on, then.”
“You and me, it’s hard.” She begins to pace across the room. “I’ve been hurt by a woman in the past before, and she just happened to be human.”
“And happened to be named Rhonda,” I mutter.
Bethiah sighs, rubbing her face. “You and me,” she begins again. “If I’m being honest about you and me, we’re probably going to argue and butt heads. We’re really different people, you and me.”
This isn’t making me feel better. “Because I’m a needy clone?”
“No, because I’m not good at reading emotion. Because I know the easiest way to get what I want is to shove my way toward it and never take ‘no’ for an answer.” She pauses to face me. “I know this might be hard to believe, but I’m not a great listener.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. “You don’t say.”
“I’m basically like an asteroid belt. Get too close to me and I’ll pulverize you incessantly until you can’t wait to be free. That’s why I’m best alone. That’s why I don’t work well in a relationship.” Her voice lowers. “So…yeah.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think you’re like that at all. I like that you’re bold and smart and fearless. I wish I was more like you.”
“I’m glad you’re not, or we’d really be driving poor Jamef crazy.” She manages a crooked grin, then impulsively crosses the room and sits next to me on the bed. “What I’m trying to say, fluffit, is that I’m not good at knowing when I hurt your feelings, and I’m not trying to do it on purpose. I need you to get in my face and tell me when I do. I need you to tell me what you want. Because the last thing I want is to hurt you in any way, understand?”
I clasp her hands in mine. “I appreciate you saying this, Bethiah, but Jamef —”
“Isn’t in this conversation, remember? This is about me and you. I love him. Adore him. He’s keffing perfect.” She grins, her expression wry. “But he deserves better than just being our referee. You’re emotional, and I’m as dense as a black hole, so we’re going to clash from time to time. We need to figure ourselves out.”
