I didn’t think it was possible, but her eyes soften even more. “You needn’t have worried. Ian would never have honored that particular bet.”
“You don’t think so?”
“Fuck, no.” She smiles gently. “You know if we do this, you’re going to piss a few people off? And not only Merrick. I’m used to that, but I’m guessing you’re not. You can walk away now. I’ll understand.”
Will she? And how could she let me go so easily, when the thought of leaving her is a physical ache inside me? Maybe I was wrong and she doesn’t want me after all. Or not enough.
“Will you?” I ask, and my tone is curt.
Her lips twitch. And I glare, because I don’t see anything funny about this at all.
She laughs and then touches a finger to my cheek. “I’ve never met anyone like you,” she murmurs.
“Is that good or bad?” My voice is still stiff—she hasn’t answered my question yet.
“I don’t know.” She looks away for a moment, and when she glances back at me, the laughter is gone from her eyes. “You’re so…perfect. So kind. And I’m anything but.”
“That’s not true—” I start, but she cuts me off.
“Oh, it is. You’re too good for me, and everyone on that bridge knows it. Even I know it, just like I know you’ll be tainted by our association. And I can’t help but wonder if that’s part of the reason why I want you so badly. Because I can’t stand to see someone so good in the world and I want them to turn bad.”
I’m not sure what she even means, but I think she’s wrong. No, I know she’s wrong. “You’re underestimating both of us,” I whisper. “And you’ve got it the wrong way around. You’re not going to turn me bad. We’re going to make each other good.”
She looks shocked—just for a second, and then back to suspicion. “You think you’re that good?”
“I know we’re making something good together. Nothing that feels this good can be against the Light’s will.”
“High Priestess,” she mutters under her breath as she shakes her head. “Did I mention the bit where I’ve never met anyone like you?”
I nod.
“Look at me,” she says.
I do. She’s beautiful. Even the darkness in her eyes and the scar that snakes down her neck. I reach up and touch it. Then I trace the dark stain around her yellow eyes, and my fingertips drift over her long lashes. All signs of her heritage, of the life she’s lived up until now.
I want to know everything about her.
“What was it like?” I ask. “Growing up on Permuna, I mean.”
“Hard. Like most places.” Then she gives a shrug. “But not all bad.”
“What do you miss?”
She looks away for a second, remembering. “I miss the desert. In some ways it’s like space—so vast and empty. And I miss the starburst cacti.” She closes her eyes for a moment. “Even thinking about them makes my mouth water.”
“I’ve never tasted one. Maybe you can feed me one someday.”
The smile fades from her face. “Maybe.”
I hate to see the joy fall from her eyes. Maybe all we have are these stolen moments on the Starlight.
Only now.
I trail my hand down her cheek, dance my fingers lightly across her lips. She draws in a sharp breath, and I have to press my lips together to keep from grinning. The oh-so-snarky Beckett isn’t nearly as cool as she pretends to be.
I slide lower, across her jaw and down her throat, where I can feel the pulse of her blood flutter against my fingertips. Then lower still, to the sharp edges of her collarbone and the soft neckline of her black jumpsuit. I slide my fingers along the edges, but I don’t quite have the nerve to go any farther.
She takes pity on me, her hands skimming my shoulders and down my arms before coming to rest on my waist. The heat from her palms sinks into my skin. She slides them up to cup my breasts, and my nipples go hard, pressing against the soft material of my camisole. She circles one with the pad of her thumb, and pleasure sings through me.
Then she lowers her head and I raise mine and we meet in the middle for one more kiss.
It’s sweet and soft and not what I was expecting at all. Tears prick the backs of my eyes, so I close them and take a deep, shuddering breath.
Beckett steps back, pointing to a pot that seems to have magically brewed itself. “They’ll be waiting for their coffee.”
For a second, I have no clue what she’s talking about. Then my hands tighten on her arm and I whisper fiercely, “I don’t care.”
“Yes you do, good girl.” She takes a step back and smirks. “Besides, I’m taking this slowly. One of us has to be the sensible one in this relationship. And fuck us both—it looks like it’s going to have to be me.”
Chapter 36
Ian
I hate it when I don’t know what’s going on. And right now, I’ve got no fucking clue.
Anyone in the Senestris System could be after us. Except every time we think about the flyers and now the ship, too, Max and I come back to Kali.
I hate to say it, but I have to finally admit that we might all be a hell of a lot safer with her gone. Because maybe she’s right—maybe she would be able to ensure our protection. I’ve been underestimating her for way too long.
All I have to do is take her home—but it’s the one thing I can’t seem to make myself do.
This is not who I am. I protect Max, Milla, and myself. That’s it.
I glance over to where Kali is talking to Max, their heads close together. They’ve been sitting like that since he brought her back to the bridge a couple of hours ago. The fact that he went after her is weird. What’s even weirder is that he likes her, and he doesn’t like many people. Or any people, really.
Outsiders always think he’s the nice one of the two of us, but that’s just ’cause they don’t know what’s in his head. He doesn’t open up easily. It’s all surface stuff with him. All smiles and laughs and whatever, but few get to see the real Max. Probably just as well.
“Hey, Captain, you might want to take a look at this,” Beckett shoots over her shoulder. She has this really sarcastic way of saying Captain, but I let it go for now. She’s a fucking good pilot, even if the Starlight is doing all the hard stuff on its own. And what’s with that, anyway? Just add sentient ship to my list of shit to figure out.
I need to spend some time and learn how to fly the ship myself. Just in case, because although Beckett appears better than she was when she first came on board, there’s still something not right with her. She’s tough, so she hides it, but she’s clearly in a lot of pain. And I can’t afford to not know what to do if something happens to her.
Maybe she could give me lessons, and maybe another backup as well. Gage? He seems like the logical choice, but while he’s got a brilliant mind for technical stuff, flying is more of an intuitive thing, and he’s flat out of intuition. He likes facts too much to listen to his gut. Remember the red fucking button?
I look around the room, and my gaze settles on the high priestess. Maybe she’d like to learn to fly and spend more time with Beckett. Don’t think I didn’t notice the heat between them when they came back to the bridge half an hour ago. Plus, that would have the added advantage of pissing Merrick off. I may like the guy, but I’m not above getting a rise out of him whenever I can.