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She cut the water and stared at her toes on the floor, wiggling them. “You sure it won’t be a problem?”
“I’m positive.” His tail reached full swing—weaponized enthusiasm. She didn’t want to watch him deflate and he probably knew it.
Days ago, she’d believed their friendship was ruined. Today, it felt like they were almost back to normal.
And it felt too good to be true.
Sure, she could see that he was physically interested in her—but you could hate a person and still want to fuck them. She doubted he’d forgiven her for lying.
Despite her misgivings, his current friendliness was too contagious.
“Alright,” she relented. “I’ll check the place out.”
Enthusiasm flooded the air—a gentle buzz that reminded her of good drinks and good company that she never wanted to end. It was chemical and it was aggressively pleasant.
He said nothing as he exited the bathroom, but she felt it in her blood. She was happy, too.
* * *
Real gravity, natural atmosphere, and solid, blessed ground awaited her.
It was as if she’d been entombed in a steel cave for years, slowly running out of air, that anxiety always eating at her. She’d finally crawled out to the rest of civilization. If there weren’t so many watching eyes, she would have bowed and kissed the floor.
Caligher walked down first, his enormous weight making the ramp flex, then twisted to look up at where she was hiding in her airlock.
“Come out,” he gently ordered.
She followed him down on legs that felt like gelatin, meeting the curious stares of the mechanics on the floor. She must have looked strange to them.
Ships of every size, shape, and color towered around them. They were fascinating up close—sleek and artistic and nothing like the industrial-looking things that humans produced.
A hand clasps hers as she was staring, open-mouthed at a completely transparent ship. “You came down!” She recognized Morwong’s voice before looking at him.
He was half a head shorter than her, solidly built, and nearly every inch of his body was covered in bright-red plating. He looked like a glowing lobster.
The fins cresting his head swept across his brows and trailed down his back in a long wave. More sprouted over the top of his head, adding half a foot to his stature and moving constantly. Another fascinating distraction.
Oh, and Morwong wore clothing. Her eyes skimmed over him. It amounted to booty shorts and a skimpy vest, but itwasclothing. Tiny cracks curved up his neck and around his cheeks—glimmering veins of firelight peeking through jagged faults.
He quirked a brow at her.
“You knew I was human?” she blurted.
His genial smile lost some of its brightness.Good job, Lucca. Polite first impression as always.“I was hoping you would be the first to say something,” he said.
Too late for that.
It took a few seconds for something else to occur to her. “What about the Crescent Rim?”
“What about it?” he asked.
“If you knew the truth already then—”
He burst out laughing so hard that multiple eyes flicked their way. “Oh, Lucca. I’m so sorry, I had to.”
Her brows furrowed deeply. “Had to what?”
“There is only one Crescent Rim,” he said, looking at her like this was obvious and hilarious.
