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I don’t. I don’t want to stay on the sofa at all, but right now my focus is on other things. I swallow the lump of food in my mouth and manage to speak. “I’m not home that much.”
“I know! It’s just…Hrrrusek worries.”
More like Hrrrusek wants to break out the noli again and he can’t while his brother is crashing with them.
“If you had a place of your own and were settled, I think he’d worry less,” Chelsea continues. “He doesn’t want to feel like he ruined your life by staying here with me.”
Ruined my life? Because my brother fell in love? “It was my decision to stay.”
“I know. But Hrrrusek feels like you were pushed into it. And you still don’t have a permanent job in Port—“
Because no one wants to hire a big single praxiian male, yes. She’s right.
“—or a place of your own—“
Again, because no one wants to live next to a big single praxiian male.
“—and all you do is harass the poor neighbor lady and we know she’s not interested in being your friend.”
Harassment? I smirk at that. She thinks Tabitha wouldn’t tell me off if I was bothering her? The female held a stun-stick to my balls once. She has no problem with letting me know if I’m not wanted. But I just give Chelsea my most charming grin. “I’m wearing her down, don’t you worry.”
“I know you said you were wooing her, but it’s been six months of wooing. In all that time you haven’t made it past her front porch.” The look she gives me is sympathetic. “Maybe it’s not working out?”
I take another bite of food, because it’s impossible to explain Tabitha to Chelsea in a way that she’ll understand. Chelsea embraces life with a vibrant sort of happiness. She sings as she works. She laughs all the time. She’s loud and noisy and carefree, sometimes to a reckless degree. My brother adores that about her, and I can see why, but Tabitha is a very different sort of person.
Strangely enough, I understand Tabitha’s mentality a lot more than Chelsea’s. Maybe it’s because growing up, I was the carefree one, the one that liked to take chances and make spur-of-the-moment decisions. I chose to stay with my brother and his new mate in a split-second decision, too. I moved in with them, and now that I’ve been around another person who lives life in a carefree, spontaneous way…
I find it frustrating.
It makes me realize how aggravating those decisions can be for those around me. It’s made me change. And meeting Tabitha has made me change, too. I see how cautious she is with everything. How deliberate. How she’s trying to think of every possible outcome so she can protect herself against it, and it both makes me respect that caution and makes me ache that she’s had to learn to do that.
Tabitha doesn’t trust easily. I knew that when I met her. I’ve known that for the five months I’ve been continuing to show up at her house regularly, knowing that she would never let me past the front porch. I know that we’re not going to talk about much, and we’re sure not going to kiss frantically like my brother and Chelsea do. That we’re still leagues away from that.
And strangely enough, I’m all right with waiting. Because right now, I’ve earned a bit of Tabitha’s trust, and that feels bigger than any quick, impromptu kiss. It feels important. Way more important than finding a place of my own, when I could be spending my funds on the long-term air-sled rental I’ve kept out so I can go back and forth between Port and Tabitha’s regularly. So I can be available if she needs something. I save my funds, too, just in case she might need a friend’s assistance.
If I moved into Port, I wouldn’t have an excuse to stop by Tabitha’s place on the way back from a job.
So moving off of Chelsea’s couch? Haven’t really given it much thought. I just shrug at her pointed questions. “It’ll work out.”
“You’re not harassing her, are you?”
“Of course not.” The look I shoot her is indignant. “We’re friends.”
“She’s not very friendly.”
“I don’t mind.”
But Chelsea won’t let it go. She eyes me. “You haven’t given her the ol’ praxiian special on the doorstep have you?”
Have I marked her as mine? Staked out her home as my personal courting territory? “First of all, that’s personal.”
“I’m not trying to be a jerk. But you might scare her if she catches you in the act.” The look on her face is full of concern. “That would be considered harassment back home, not a compliment.”
I know that. I know enough about humans now that I know Tabitha would be alarmed if I whipped my cock out and started jerking it on her doorstep. I’d probably fall right into her thornbushes, too. The thought makes me bite back a smirk. But Chelsea’s still watching me so I shake my head. “No marking. I promise.”
