there long after I hear her breathing even out. What have I gotten myself into?
Chapter 12
Kiara
When I wake up, Anzil is gone. I roll onto my back and feel the spot where he should be. It’s still warm, so he can’t have been gone that long.
I shouldn’t have told him all that. I don’t know what I was thinking. I told him that story to cover over the truth, but then I end up crying and looking a fool anyway. That story, no matter that it is true, isn’t the thing that wakes me up in a cold sweat. It’s not the reason I cry out in my sleep.
And I almost told him. It was there, on the tip of my tongue. Begging to be released, but instead I shoved it back into the black box of the past and pulled out another story. A safer one. How can I trust him? I can’t fall for him. It’s a distraction from the mission, and that’s all that matters. I must save the girls. I must. It’s my duty.
Dallying with the local sexy alien is way off the mission, and I can’t do it. No matter how hot he is. If that’s all it was, it’d be different. This would be so much easier if it was only sex. We could bang and be done, but I’m not stupid. I fall into his arms, we have sex, but that won’t be it.
He feels it too. I’m sure of it. I know it, but damn it, I want more too.
Sighing, I climb out of bed to try and figure out where he went. The room isn’t that big, so there’s no doubt he’s not in here unless he decided to hide under the bed. Childish pranks aren’t something I see him doing, so he had to have gotten the guards to let him out and to do so quietly enough he didn’t wake me up.
As if answering my question, the door handle rattles and I hear the key in the lock. A moment later it swings open, and Anzil walks in carrying a large wooden tray laden with food. It smells amazing, and embarrassingly my stomach grumbles loudly.
His smile is too much. The way it lights up his face and the delight in his eyes makes my heart skip. Damn it, Anzil, I can’t do this. Not now. Why couldn’t I find you later? I can’t meet his eyes. I feel like a jerk. I’m not going to play him along; I’m not that kind of girl.
“You’re awake,” he says, crossing the room and setting the tray down.
“Yeah,” I say. “Smells great.”
“Good. Come, enjoy,” he pulls a chair out from the table for me.
Who the hell is this guy? Anzil is such a jerk all the time but here, in private, he’s sweet. Romantic, even. God, this makes it so much worse. Why can’t he just be an asshole like normal?
“Thanks,” I say, taking the seat. “What is this?”
I don’t recognize the food on the tray. There’s some kind of fruit, but it’s a pale pink color that I haven’t seen before. There’s some kind of bread-looking things and a pile of something blue in color that has steam rising from it. It might be some kind of egg, maybe?
“That is zesta egg, with ground ranzil toast, and slices of jak.” He raises a pot and pours a dark, thick, steaming liquid into a cup that he then sets before me. Its aroma is rich and full, with hints of nuts, but almost a floral air.
“Try it,” he urges. I lift it to my lips, blow on the hot liquid, then sip.
Flavors explode across my tongue like miniature nuclear warheads assaulting my taste. It’s rich, but following the richness there is a depth and layers that keep giving over and over. It’s incredible. As the liquid slides down my throat, warming every inch, it hits my stomach and explodes. It’s coffee and strong whiskey mixed. A reactor forms in my belly, pulsing warmth and energy out. I’m more alert from the first sip. It’s amazing, and I know this shit is addictive.
“Wow,” I exclaim.
“That is kifkee, you like?” he asks.
“It’s outstanding,” I agree.
“Good, eat, eat,” he says. “They’ll come for us soon.”
I dig in, and all of the food is amazing. Rich and flavorful, made especially wonderful after the months of living on gruel in one form or another since the ship was destroyed. I devour my plate in no time, and