Claimed by the Alien Bodyguard - Tiffany Roberts Page 0,4

Compared to the cycles he’d spent in that alley, this was nothing.

Another fifteen or twenty minutes, and the wait would be over. He was halfway through already.

And yet he could barely keep himself still. He’d changed positions several times, as though the angle from which he was looking out the window made any difference. He’d adjusted the blind slats twice, as though their tilt would somehow change the fact that the driveway across the street was still empty. He’d lifted his hand several times to tuck rogue strands of hair behind his pointed ear, and each time, he’d scraped the tips of his claws over the bases of his horns.

It was fortunate that he was alone—any human would’ve wondered why there was a bone-scratching sound whenever he combed his fingers through his hair. The holographic projection created by his holoshroud could mask his inhuman features, like his red skin and fangs, but it couldn’t hide all evidence of their existence. He still had to duck going through doorways to avoid striking not only his head but his horns. He still had to take care how he touched things so as not to produce damage with his claws.

He released a huff through his nostrils, plunged his spoon into the ice cream carton, and shoved a chunk of chocolate and peanut butter ice cream into his mouth. The end of his tail curled against his calf, as stiff and restless as always having spent another day hidden away in his pants.

What was he doing?

Gabriela would be back soon, and he’d hear her car on the road like he had every other time. He didn’t need to stand here like a hormonal human adolescent or a beast desperate for the return of its master. And he certainly didn’t need to be eating this ice cream.

He shoveled another bite into his mouth before even finishing the last. Maybe he didn’t need to be eating it, but he wanted to. If there was anything in the universe as delicious as chocolate and peanut butter ice cream, he’d never tasted it.

Hot chocolate, with Gabriela. That would taste better.

And he’d made a mess of that, hadn’t he?

He’d known as he walked to mailbox that Gabriela had been due to go pick up Ana. He’d known that she was running late as he’d looked upon her face and seen the tears brimming in her big, entrancing eyes, as he’d seen the defeat and sadness take hold of her expression.

He’d known she had to leave, until he’d asked if she wanted to go get some hot chocolate right then—apparently, the knowledge had fled him in that moment. As though he’d not been awkward enough before then. All he’d wanted to do was ease her sadness, was make her smile so he could see her eyes shine, so he could see those endearing dimples on her cheeks.

Broxen knew what Astius would’ve said—something about making opportunities instead of awaiting them. But Astius had never had to deal with humans. These people were confusing by nature, and every aspect of them was somehow contradictory. Broxen had yet to figure them out. He wasn’t even sure if they could be figured out.

But…he wanted to figure out Gabriela. Even if he never understood a single other human on this planet, he wanted to understand her.

She hadn’t refused him. He needed to keep that in mind. She’d simply said they could go out another time. That was good, right?

And he wasn’t eating this ice cream because he felt rejected. He was eating it because it was good. He was only having a few bites.

He glanced down at the carton—which had been full when he’d opened it fifteen minutes ago—and frowned. About half of the one point five quarts of ice cream was gone. Unbidden, his tail coiled around his leg and squeezed.

Clenching his jaw, he turned away from the window, crossed the living room, and entered the kitchen, battling his urge to look back with every step. It was too soon for her to be home. Her car wasn’t going to suddenly appear in her driveway; he wasn’t going to miss out on a chance to see her again.

Besides, this ice cream thing was more concerning, wasn’t it? He’d seen this phenomenon in human movies and television shows. The only people who seemed to eat ice cream like this were humans—often female—who had just been broken up with. Humans who had been spurned by their mates. It seemed to be a treatment for what humans