“From the Argus?”
“The Tempus.”
“What?” she asked, shaking her head. This was not a topic they’d discussed before, and the suggestion more than surprised her.
He kept his gaze locked on her. “Remember what you said yesterday? That it’d only be ten months before we’re the same age?”
“Ten years, yeah.” She upended her glass and finished the remainder of her whiskey. “Only a joke, Griff. Forty-two’s not old.”
“No, I mean … every month I’m gone, you get a year older? That’s terrifying.”
She scoffed and smiled. “What? You don’t think I’ll age well?” She set down her empty glass to pat her face and primp her hair.
He smiled up at her, but the amusement soon faded into a somber frown.
She took a minute to assess his seriousness, then slid off the couch to sit on the dark gray carpet beside him. “Step down?” she asked. “You love traveling the Divide.”
He turned onto his side and propped his head up with one arm. “Love’s a stretch, let’s be honest,” he said, tone weary. “It was exhilarating for a while, sure. And after they scrubbed the charting missions, certainly the next best option. But now, I think I’d be better off here, training soldiers. I’m not getting any younger.”
“You mean you’re not getting any older?”
It came out far more defeatist than she’d meant it. He smiled anyway, but it fell away as quickly as it’d appeared.
Pushing out a long breath, she lay on her side to face him, head propped up on her arm. She searched his tired eyes for some indication of what he was getting at. “What’s this really about?”
“Life moves too fast while I’m gone. I feel like I’m missing a lot. Things change too quickly.”
She scoffed. “Nothing’s ever different on the Argus, trust me.”
“You seem different. Did something happen?”
She shook her head. “Six months happened, Griff.”
“Right.” He let out a small sigh. “I’ve never been on the other end of it. It’s hard for me to conceptualize the time difference. I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry? It’s your assignment, your duty.”
“Because it’s hard on you, I can tell. Every time I’m back, you’re a little more tired, a little more weary—”
“I’m fine.”
“—a little more jaded. You’re not the same fierce Quin you were when I first left.”
“I know,” she admitted. “Life on the Argus isn’t great, and having you gone hasn’t made it easier. But I don’t know what you want me to say. Like you said, we can’t conceptualize life the same way. We live in two different time zones, literally.”
He lifted his hand to the side of her face. Her cheeks warmed as he ran his thumb along her cheekbone, more familiar than she expected from her old friend.
“That’s what I’m saying, Mo’acair,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “I don’t want it to be that way anymore.” Her pulse beat up into her throat as he leaned closer, pressing his forehead to hers, his breath smelling of the honeyed whiskey. “I don’t want you to grow old without me.”
It took her brain a few seconds to process his round-about double negative. “Griff—”
Her breath left her as he pressed his lips to hers. On instinct her muscles tensed, but loosened just as quickly along with a wash of warmth down her back. She edged closer, and he wrapped his arm around her, drawing her into him.