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I did that to her. I hurt her feelings. I ruined her joy in this place.
“She deserves better than me,” I mutter.
“But she does not want better. She wants you.” Yaahi tilts her head. “My mate buys all kinds of noodles to please his wives. Exotic flavors. New spices. Anything he can get his hands on. Yet everyone fights over the very last package of chski noodles. They are common. Basic. No one fights over the most expensive Holaxi noodles or a new blend from Zenith II. And do you know why that is?”
“You ladies have shit taste?”
The praxiian woman smiles. “It is because we like what is comfortable and pleasant to us. It does not matter if it is expensive or not. We like what we like. Perhaps Dora likes what she likes.”
I hate that this interfering woman makes too much sense. “I’m trying to decide if I should be offended that you’re calling me a noodle.”
“A cheap noodle.” Yaahi smiles. “An easily replaced one, if I am being indiscreet. If she is not given what she wants, perhaps her tastes will change.”
I want to growl at her, except I know she’s right. Dora’s love is freely given right now, but if I keep hurting her, she’s going to withdraw and become hard…like me. And that would be terrible to see. “So what do you suggest, then?”
“Perhaps you try wooing her for a change?” Her furry brows go up, as if she’s challenging me. “Show her that she matters and that you care? Is that so hard?”
For me? Yes. But I should probably try it anyhow.
Fifty-Seven
BETHIAH
Ugh. I guess I have to fix this.
After breakfast, I move to Dora’s side and glare at Hazza until she moves away. I lean over my fluffit, resisting the urge to stroke her pretty hair. She probably doesn’t want to be petted right now. “Hey, what’s your schedule look like for today?”
Dora wrinkles her brows at me. “My…schedule?”
Right. Dumb question. She doesn’t have a schedule and if she did, it’d probably involve being fed treats by these women until she vomits, or changing clothes sixteen times. “Never mind. You’re coming with me.”
She shows no excitement for this pronouncement, which makes me feel ever-so-slightly guilty. “Where are we going?”
“First, we’re going to the ship to get your nose looked at by med-bay, because you’re making me look bad. And second, I thought we could train together a bit.”
She toys with her eating sticks and then shakes her head. “No thank you.”
What the…?
This is the first time she’s never met my suggestions with complete and utter enthusiasm. I feel even more guilty, as if I’ve broken something inside her. I didn’t realize how much I liked Dora’s sweet eagerness until just now, and I feel like the biggest keffing arse in the universe for ruining it.
I study her face, trying to think of what would bring a smile back to her. “I want to teach you how to defend yourself, fluffit. So you can pull a blaster on me any time you like and I won’t be worried that you’ll shoot your own ear off. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”
She doesn’t respond, even when I give her my most winning smile.
“It’d make me feel better to know you’re safe,” I try again, since she’s super into feelings and shit.
That makes her perk, but only a little. She eyes me, bites her lip, and then shakes her head again. “I’m not in the mood, Bethiah. Sorry. My head hurts.”
Did I feel like a monster before? I keffing feel like one now. Dora never complains. I’m not sure if this is just to get rid of me, or if she genuinely hurts so much that she’s admitting it. Reaching over, I cup her chin and force her to look up at me. Her big eyes are full of wounded emotion, and I hate that I’ve done this to her. I’m supposed to be making her mad at me so I won’t get hurt, not the other way around.
Hurting Dora is the worst.
“Oh, fluffit.” I sigh, stroking her cheek with my thumb. “I really am a terrible mate. I’m sorry.” She leans into my touch ever so slightly, and that gives me an idea. “How about we go back to our quarters and I give your head a massage to take away the pain? And then if you want to train, since that would be a favor to me, I’ll do a favor for you. Anything you like. Sound good?”
Her eyes narrow and she studies me. I’ve got her attention at least. “A favor?”
I nod.
She appears to consider this. “Anything I choose?”
Uh oh. “Anything within reason. If you ask me to go to the docks and space myself, I might take a pass.”
Dora gives me a scrutinizing look. “I’d never ask you to hurt yourself.”
