He sighs and opens the door to his room, holding out a hand to invite me in. I pretend to curtsy before entering. When we get inside he punches in a room order and in moments I have water, a pill to help with hangovers, and a slice of pizza.
I bounce onto the bed, sitting cross-legged, which makes Hans’s head fly upward as he makes an effort not to look. Instead, he goes to his dresser, yanks out a pair of boxer briefs and throws them at my chest.
“Hey, you almost hit my pizza, fucker!”
“Put them on. Now.”
He’s turned away from me, his arms crossed, his back looking way too incredibly sexy. I pull the dress over my head, drop it to the floor, and pull on the boxers. Then I bounce back onto the bed in my strapless bra and his underwear. I finally take a bite, letting out a moan. He turns around and his eyes bulge out.
“The fuck, Lexon?” More rummaging until he throws a T-shirt that smacks me in the face. “Shirt! On! Now!”
“Ow! God. Fine.” It takes me forever to figure out which holes are which and I almost cry when my foot smooshes into something warm and squishy.
“Oh, no, Hans, look. My pizza!”
“Shit. Hold on. Don’t cry.” He throws the pizza away and quickly orders me another slice. I’m smiling up at him with alligator tears when he places the new slice in my hand. While I’m eating he sits near me with a towel and cleans my foot. I stop eating to watch the special attention he pays to wiping my skin, the tender arch, his manly fingers holding my little toes apart to clean between them.
“I love you,” I whisper.
He freezes, not even his eyeballs moving. I’m holding my breath, wondering what the hell my stupid, drunk ass has just done. I have to fix this. I have to say something else before the terrible awkwardness stretches into forever.
“Want my crust?” I hold it out and he looks at it. My hand starts shaking, I’m holding it out so long, silently praying he’ll take the peace offering.
In total silence, he stands, throwing the towel into his laundry chute, and turns to me without meeting my eye. He takes the crust from my hand and pulls back the covers. “Climb in.” Then he sticks the crust in his mouth.
I do as he says, undeniably thrilled to see my pizza crust between his lips. He yanks the covers over me and shuts off the lights, but he doesn’t climb in bed. I sit up.
“Don’t leave me.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he says gruffly into the darkness. “I’m just sitting over here. I’m not ready to sleep yet. Close your eyes.” Despite his words, he sounds tired.
I lay back and close my eyes. The room spins just enough to remind me I drank way too much, but thankfully the spin doesn’t get any faster so I don’t get sick. I just thoroughly pass out hard in the bed of Hans Rawko with pizza on my breath.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The next morning brings a sluggish recollection of all the things. When it lands on the “I love you” moment I literally cringe in the darkness and curl into the fetal position.
Oh, God, you are such an idiot.
Of all the things I could have said or done, nothing was as sure to push him away than that. One night of drinking was all it took to ruin everything. I give myself a few minutes to silently berate myself before I reach out across the smooth bedsheets and verify that he’s not there.
“Hans?” I whisper. No response. “Dim lights on.”
The lights come to life, and even in the dimness I squint. I’m alone, but the wall screen is now flashing a message.
Don’t come tonight. I won’t be here. No more sessions.
My heart flies up into my throat and I can hardly swallow. The message is so final. So impersonal. Despite the no-hangover pill, I’m nauseated. I pull Hans’s pillow to my lap and hug it, smelling it, but the only scent is detergent and my own hair. This room holds nothing of Hans. A horrible sensation overtakes me at the thought of his vibrant soul erased from life. What a loss it would be. A waste. My tears slide down, sinking into the pillow, and I sniff.
I still have two days. He wants me to stay away, but that’s just not going to happen. I’m going into full stalker mode, and I don’t care if he hates me for it.
I dial Reesa and she answers, sitting on her bed, her hair askew. She smiles lightly.
“Good morning. Are you okay?”
I nod, even though I’m far from okay. “Can you take me this afternoon to wherever the guys work?”
She presses her lips together. “We can’t get onto the base. What’s going on?”
I quickly tell her, and she lets out a long sigh. I hold my breath, waiting for her to say the inevitable, that I need to give him space or let him be.
“I’ll go with you,” she says instead. “They come out in individual hovers, so we’ll wait for him and follow him.”
“Oh, my gosh, thank you.” We lock eyes in solidarity. “I’m being psycho, aren’t I?”
“Let’s call it a last-ditch effort to help someone we love.”
I nod, tears filling my eyes. “Thank you. I’ll be home soon.”
***
We can’t cut into the traffic leaving the base, so we have to wait for every hover to exit before we can pull out.
“He was in the fifth hover,” I say, and Reesa nods. We try to keep an eye on which one was his, but it’s hard when they’re all identical. Our hover is set to manual drive, so we have to tell it which way to turn, which of course we don’t know until Hans’s hover turns, so our hover keeps blaring and beeping warnings at us, yelling in its robotic voice, Please choose a direction and street. Please choose a direction and street. Please choose—
“Ugh, hush!” Reesa declares, hitting the Right button when Han’s hover turns far ahead of us.
After several long roads and turns, Reesa frowns.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
She bites her lip before answering. “It looks like he’s going to the main Nevesta house. As are half the soldiers from the base.” Of course.
Another wave of nausea hits me. It’s been happening all day. Reesa curses when we get stopped at a light and Hans moves ahead, out of sight. We both sit back heavily.
By the time we get to the Nevesta house, Hans is nowhere in sight. I know he’s already inside, on the elevator, on his way to who-knows-who. Some girl who has no idea what he’s going through.
“I’m sorry,” Reesa whispers.
“I’m going to get out and wait.”
“Lanna.” Her eyes go wide. “You could be sitting here a long time.”
“Yeah, maybe even all night.” Yuck, yuck, yuck.
She watches me carefully, then gives a single nod. “I’ll wait with you.”
“What? No. Reesa—”
But it’s no use. She’s climbing out, so I get out behind her.
“Seriously, please. You only have two more nights with Russ before he leaves. You should be with him.”
“It’s okay.” She squeezes my hand. “I’ll comm him and tell him to eat with the guys. We’ll meet up later.” Reesa pulls me into the building and I stare around nervously at the posh, but comfortable looking lobby with swanky red couches and a bar area. People are milling around, laughing and smiling. My heartbeat thumps in my throat as I expect to see Hans, but he’s nowhere in sight.
Reesa and I find a loveseat in sight of the elevators and sit together. I’m so jittery that I end up getting us strong drinks to pass the time. There’s one awkward moment when Hensley comes in, his hair and eyes now aquamarine. He strides over with his lanky frame, grinning.
“Ladies! Good to see you. Waiting on Nevestos?”
“No!” I say a little too quickly, then I force a smile. “Just waiting for a friend.”
“Ah.” He smiles back, not seeming offended. “Well, have a good evening. Maybe I’ll see you at Sky Club?”
“Maybe. Have fun…I mean, take care.”
He gives a salute and heads to the line at the elevator. So weird. Hensley is about to get busy. I shake the image fro
m my head. This has to be the most active building on Mars. So many people are coming and going and I have to watch carefully, even though I know Hans would be hard to miss. I study the faces that exit the elevators, marveling that they’ve each just finished having sex, and trying to see if they’re sweating or red-faced.
After two hours, three large drinks, and four offers to join men in their rooms I turn to Reesa. “Please go, Rees. I’ll be fine. I promise.”
But her eyes are sad. “I hate to think of you here alone all night.”
“I’m good. I’m safe. I’ll grab a hover if I get tired of waiting. It’s really okay. I want you to be with—” My eyes spot a huge body, but it’s coming in, not going out. And the hair is dark, not blond.
Reesa turns and her face lights up. “Lex!”
My brother strides over, garnering a roomful of hungry stares that he doesn’t even seem to notice. His eyes are only for his wife. Watching them find one another makes my chest tighten with a mix of happiness and longing. I want what they have.
When Russ moves to sit, I stand and say, “You guys should go.”
They look at me, then share a glance.
“I mean it,” I tell them. “I’m okay.”
They’re both quiet for a long moment until my brother talks. “He didn’t say anything all day. Not during the fighting or the briefing, nothing. He’s sort of a shell. We’ve all tried to talk to him this week. It’s like he can’t hear.” Russ puts a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up, Lan. We’ll keep a good eye on him.”
I shake my head, eyes burning. “He shouldn’t go on this mission.”
“I recommended that, but he was cleared by two doctors.”
I grit my teeth and shut my eyes. Fucking Hans. A soldier first and foremost. Of course he would fake being fine for the doctors.
My hand pats Russ’s on my shoulder. “I’ll be fine. You guys go.”
Again they share a glance, but I reach out and hug Reesa, then wrap my arms quickly around my brother’s waist before giving them both a good-bye smile. With obvious reluctance, they leave me.
For every fifteen minutes that passes, I silently curse Hans and his stamina. I mean, come on. What the hell? This is torture, and I’m getting tired. I want to scream and throw shit. If I knew what room he was in I’d bang on the door and tell him to hurry up.
I’m not sure what time it is when I pull my legs up and lean my head on my knees for a second. My stomach growls, so I close my eyes and try to think of something other than food or Hans’s penis in someone else.
I don’t mean to fall asleep.
The sense of sudden nearness makes my eyes flutter open. I let out a high-pitched yelp at the sight of two bright blue eyes glaring down at me.
“The fuck are you doing here?” Hans hisses.
Oh, thank God. Finally!
I wipe my eyes. “I’m going home with you.”
“Absolutely not.” He heads for the doors and I leap to my feet, following.
He yanks open a hover door and motions for me to get in.
“You first,” I say.
He growls at me through bared teeth. “You are not coming home with me.”
“I like your bed better than the one at Rainell’s.”
“Not my problem.”
“I already promised I wouldn’t try to get with you. I know you’re all spent or whatever.” I motion to his crotch and his eyes narrow dangerously.
“I’m never spent.”
I roll my eyes. “You were in there, like, five hours.”
“I wasn’t in there at all. I went straight to the gym, then home to shower, then the bar, and that’s where Cap told me where you were.”
The blood drains from my face. “You went to the gym?”
He points down the road. Two buildings down is a picture of an arm making a muscle. “Oh…I thought…”
“I haven’t been to a Nevesta all week.” My heart dances at that news until he mumbles, “Not that it’s any of your business.”
I close my eyes. “I’m really not trying to give you a hard time about that or get in your personal business. I just want to get in your bed.” My eyes fly open. “To sleep!”
“Get in the hover. Other people are waiting.”
“You first.”
“God damn it, Lanna!”
My hands clench into fists. “I’m going home with you!”
Now he’s making fists too, and for a second I’m worried he’s going to punch the side of the hover. I unclench my hand and gently grasp his wrist, whispering, “Come on. Come with me.”
I climb in, hoping, still holding him. He tries to give a tug but makes the mistake of looking me in the eye. With an angry shake of his head, he climbs in, letting out a string of explicatives. I smile to myself and type in his address.
“…worst fucking idea.” He finally finishes and shuts up, crossing his arms and staring from the side window.
When we get to his hall, he goes to the mens’ room to shower and I go to his room, hoping he won’t try and give me the slip. A jolt of excitement zaps me when he comes back in, slamming his ass angrily into his chair and pelting me with his eyes. His hair is wet.
“I’m not sleeping in this fucking chair again tonight,” he says like it’s a warning.
“Good. You shouldn’t have slept in it last night either.”
“And I’m not fucking you.”
“I didn’t think you would.” We’re quiet, both staring at the other. “Why haven’t you been going to the Nevestas?”
He shrugs and looks away, his knee bouncing. I look him over and realize he’s completely sober too.
“No sex this week and no drugs or alcohol either?”
His blue gaze hits me again. “You’re not really a fucking shrink, so you can lay off that, all right?”
“If I was a real shrink maybe I could figure you out.”
“Nothing to figure.” He raises his hands and lets them fall back to the arm rests.
I dig into my pocket, pull out a pill and hold it up, then toss it to him. He catches it and lets out a guttural sigh. I go to the wall panel and order a water, then press it into his other hand.
“Bottoms up,” I tell him.
For a long second I think I’m going to have to fight him, and a thrill shoots through me when I remember what happened last time. The kiss. Just as I’m wishing he would fight me again, he tosses back the pill and takes it with a grimace.
I climb onto his bed and sit cross-legged. “I’m sorry your time at the bar got cut short.”
He shrugs. I wish I could say the silence that passes is comfortable, but I feel a sense of urgency, and I can tell he feels some sort of expectation. He doesn’t trust me.
“So, two more nights, huh?”
He says nothing. Doesn’t move. Sniffs.
My lips turn up. “Wanna get drunk with me?”
“Nope.”
I pout. “How about those Angel’s Breath pills? I hear they’re like ecstasy—”
“Not happening.”
“A Chill Pill?”
“Mm-mm.”
“Oh, come on, two more nights.” A reckless desperation overtakes me, and I climb from the bed, lowering to my knees in front of him. Hans freezes and watches me, but I don’t touch him. I just keep talking, keep holding his eyes, keep hoping. “Let’s do something crazy. We don’t have to tell anyone.”
“You should go.” He starts to stand, but I grasp his rock-hard thighs, effectively stopping him.
“Tell me you don’t like me, Hans, and I’ll leave you alone. And I’ll know if you’re lying. Otherwise, I’m staying right here and I’m spending every spare moment with you before you have to leave.”
His face hardens into a pissed off mask. My abdomen tightens. One second passes, two, three, and then he opens his mouth.
“Too late,” I say. “You hesitated. You like me.” I stand and walk to the wall panel before he can respond, punching in an order for a bottle of Morp
hian with some electrolyte flavored waters for chasers. Hans groans and sinks lower in the chair. I hold my Mars card up to the panel and it beeps. “My treat.” I wink, trying to cover up the fact that I’m more nervous than I’ve ever been. Trying to get him to drink could backfire. It could be my worst idea ever. The guy is fucking depressed and I want to get him wasted. Or at least to loosen up.
I make two shots and walk over. If he notices my shaking hands, he says nothing about them, just takes the shot I’m holding out and peers up at me through hooded eyes.
“Nothing good will come of this,” he murmurs in a low voice.
“Maybe not, but it can’t get much worse either.”
His eyebrows go up. “Famous last words.” And he tosses back his shot. I do the same, making a face. Then I pour us another.
“Play Sublime,” Hans orders. A smooth beat fills the room as we throw back the second shot. Then another. He’s watching me.
“What’s your limit?” he asks.
I think about it. “Four for a solid buzz. Eight for drunk. Ten for puking and passing out.”
“Hurry up and take eleven,” he says.
“Har-har, Mr. Funny Guy.” We both toss back our fourth. “You going to take care of me when I’m sick?”
He looks away. “I can’t take care of anyone.” It’s the same thing he’d said to my brother at the bar last night.
“I thought you did a great job taking care of me last night.”
“Yeah, well.” He throws back another, then another. “Your life wasn’t on the line.”
My body goes still as my heart picks up speed. I ponder what to do next and decide to pour him another shot. Once he takes it, I grab his hand and pull him to his feet. We both set our shot glasses down. His eyes are wary, so I’m careful not to pounce.
“Let’s dance like middle schoolers.” I lead his hands to my waist and put my hands on his broad shoulders. The Sublime song lends itself to a sexy sway, so I move my hips. Hans doesn’t dance, just watches me with his serious expression as my hips move beneath his hands.
“You should get on with those next six shots.” His voice is guttural. It rumbles through me, vibrating over my softness and landing at my core.
“I’m actually good for now, thanks.” I smile, definitely feeling the burn in my stomach, stretching its way lazily into my blood stream like a warm current of relaxation and bliss. I turn and place my back to him. When he drops his hands I reach back and lead them to my hips again, still swaying. But I lean my back into his chest, followed by my ass against his crotch. He pushes off me in half a second and rather than pouring a shot, he takes the entire bottle and glugs three times. I’m making a wow face when he turns and sets it down hard.
Out of the Stars (Into the Stars Book 2) Page 9
