Shadows and Stars

by Becca Fanning

  All this time, the fact that he hadn’t come after her had been even more devastating than seeing him with that woman. She’d used that devastation to fuel her rage and kill her sorrow, to fill her with the strength and power to master her desire to return to him, but now she felt it whooshing out of her as though a critical valve had sprung a leak. If he’d taken the time to go over his expenses, would he have seen the charge? Would he have come for her? Begged forgiveness? Would she have caved?

  She snorted out loud. Knowing him, he would have demanded forgiveness. Told her she was being ridiculous and that running away had been irrational and impulsive. Impulsive, yes. Irrational? No.

  “What’s funny?” Vin demanded, still reeling from this new information. She’d left him a trail to follow and he’d missed it!

  He’d missed it!

  “I just figured you knew,” she said, seemingly as equally shocked as him to find out he hadn’t known her location this whole time. “You were always good at keeping track of your finances.”

  He cleared his throat and murmured, “I was a little off that day.”

  He remembered someone shoving a bill in his hand, glancing over it without really seeing the numbers, and then signing on the dotted line. This, days after he’d found all her belongings gone from their shared living space. He’d been no better than a walking corpse, barely able to function past his grief.

  Meanwhile his one-and-only clue to where she’d run off to had been right there, staring him straight in the face. Gods plow him down now! Just bowl him over and burry him in shit. He had thoroughly, unequivocally, stupendously screwed things up. It was almost an art form with witch he’d screwed up. Vin the professional fuck-up, at your service ladies and gentlemen.

  His self-abuse ceased with the spark of a hopeful idea: had she used his credits in an attempt to leave a trail for him to follow?

  The thought was a buoy to a drowning man.

  He studied her closer, taking in every little nuance, every little tick that gave away her thoughts. There was a stubborn shape to her lips, a marked defensiveness that he’d have been able to spot clear across the room. However, she leaned back in her chair, appearing completely at ease as though she hadn’t a care in the world.

  Which was the act?

  Her crystal blue eyes were audacious pools that shimmered with spirit. He was always amazed how they appeared to nearly glow like twin moons when caught by the light. He could get lost in their iridescent depths for hours. Just staring at her in awe and never getting bored. The woman turned him into a fluffball.

  His gaze roamed the smooth line of her delicate jaw, wishing he could have his lips there, burry his face in the crook of her neck while her nails scraped along his scalp in that oh-so-perfect way before digging into his back.

  His need for her rebounded like the snap of a rubber band that had been relentlessly stretching for years, for miles, forever. It hit him in his gut and nearly knocked the wind from his lungs. Two things he knew: there was no doubt he would have followed her to Uli Rings if he’d seen that charge—he would have followed her to the edges of the universe had he known the way.

  And he was going to do everything in his power to get her back.

  “You don’t really think this will work, do you?” she asked him, breaking through his silent oath.

  “Hmm?”

  “Me and you, working together again after…everything?”

  He shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “I don’t have a problem with it, but I’ll understand if you do.” He left a little something in his tone that he knew she’d hate. An itty bitty unspoken hint that she might not be able to handle the situation while he, however, could. She hated that shit. The woman was competitive as fuck. Just one more thing he loved about her.

  As expected, she bristled. “You don’t think I can remain professional?”

  “I think Aidan told you he’d kick me off the team to placate you and keep you from making an impulsive decision. Truth is, he wants me here. Said I was one of the best. Told me so himself. Hell, I’d wager he built this team around me.”

  She looked to the sky, her eyelids fluttering in that way they did when she was truly irritated. Oddly, it was among his favorites expressions, especially because right now, what it meant was she was gearing up to take this verbal battle to the next level.

  “You always did have an over-active imagination, Vin. Or are you actually starting to believe you’re the center of everyone’s universe.” Priya mentally mocked her own statement. At one point, he had been the center of her universe, the goddamned sun to her planet, but his ego didn’t need that particular piece of news at the moment.

  He smirked as if picking it from her thoughts, his gaze raking her expression. “Tell me about Mister Solar Orbit.”

  Okay, so he wanted to chat about her boyfriend—who technically didn’t exist because she’d made him up just to get under Vin’s skin, which didn’t seem to be working.

  “What’s to say,” she hedged. “He’s nice.”

  “Just nice? That’s it?”

  She’d always been a bit of a terrible liar. She generally took a blunt, straightforward approach. And for that reason, it was just easier to evade an iffy topic rather than spin a yarn. “Do you really want to talk about him?”

  “Does he make you happy?” His voice turned rough, almost challenging. “Make you laugh?”

  No one did that anymore. No one since Vin. She recalled a particular time when she and this very crew were on a mission in dead space, barely a star to be seen. Endless black stacked on top of black for days on end. It was suffocating, the nothingness. Even Zeek had been affected by the gloom, losing a little of his inherent cheer.

  During the crushing worst of it, Vin kept her spirits up by conspiring with her and unleashing small pranks on the crew. During a visit to Asher’s room, who was always ridiculously organized, they had systematically rearranged some his personal belongings when his back was turned and then hid their snickers as they watched in fascination as he painstakingly set to right everything that had been disturbed before realizing they were messing with him. They hadn’t been allowed back in his room for months after that.

  Zeek was more difficult to prank because he was always in such high spirits and when your mark enjoyed the prank as much as you did, well, it kind of dulled the fun. The only noteworthy prank was when they had added dye to his shampoo, turning his hair bright pink for a time. The funniest part was it took him half a day to notice the change.

  Aidan, being the captain and, in general, a serious type of guy, took some brainstorming. They’d settled on reconfiguring a set of holographic projectors to make it appear as though his quarters were under a great sea, complete with an eight-tentacled beast that had made a cozy home of his bed.

  Priya hadn’t been spared, however. Mysteriously, over a few weeks’ time, she’d begun to notice her clothing gradually shrinking as though repeatedly put through a careless wash, even though she did her own laundry. Meanwhile, her undergarments were becoming too large for her body so that she’d had to forego wearing them near the end. She couldn’t figure it out. Her weight wasn’t changing. Her measurements were the same.

  Then one day, she’d walked in on Vin wearing only his jeans and her last good bra! A sewing kit was sprawled out over his desk, her favorite pants in hand, a set of threaded sewing needles climbed between his teeth.

  He’d been taking in her clothes one by one, while stretching out her underthings.

  When he’d been caught, he’d given her an unabashed grin, needles pointing out from between his white teeth.

  She’d tried to be mad, but when the realization of what he’d been doing—what he’d been doing for weeks—hit her, she’d crossed her arms, eyed him up and down, and asked one simple question. “And the underwear?”

  He spit out the sewing needles and gave her his trademark sexy grin. “The prank was on me too: a weeks-long wedgie and a constant cockstand, just to have you prance aroun
d in front of me in these skin tight suits with nothing underneath. It was well it worth it.”

  She knew that night, she could love him forever.

  But then...

  She lowered her gaze and gulped back her emotion. Her voice came out pathetically small as she finally answered him. “He doesn’t hurt me.”

  Vin flinched and leaned back in his chair, his finger crooked loosely around the neck of his bottle. His tone was equally deflated. “S’pose that’s something.”

  The ladies on stage ended their dance to sporadic claps and cheers. A moment later, a new set of girls took the stage. After watching them kick and spin for a while, Priya glanced at Vin from the corner of her eye. His lips were pressed in a hard line as he glared at his bottle. She wanted to ask him what he was thinking, but that was something a girlfriend did and that was no longer her place.

  In a way, the silence between them made her feel like she was still light-years away.

  “I shouldn’t have come,” she blurted.

  His head snapped up. “Of course you should have. I bet you were just as excited as I was when you received Aidan’s transmission.”

  “Was,” she emphasized.

  His expression grew dark. “You hate me so much you’d throw away this opportunity just to avoid me?”

  She shook her head, feeling a shadow of gloom fall over her. “I don’t hate you…that much.”

  He gave a weak smile at her attempt at humor.

  “You have to admit, we’d make a pretty shitty team at the moment.”

  “I told you, I don’t have a problem—”

  “I have a problem with it,” she snapped. His continued insistence that he felt nothing grated. She pinched the bridge of her nose. “This is pointless. We’d ruin this for everyone on that ship. In the morning, I’m going to get a ticket back to Uli Rings. See if I can get my job back.”

  “So you’re just going to run away? Again.”

  The nerve! As if she was the one responsible for destroying everything they’d built!

  She shot to her feet and tossed a handful of credit chips on the table in front of him. “Here, have a lap dance, on me.”

  Vin disregarded the chips on the table, glowering after Priya as she walked away. He’d lost his taste for lap dances the day she’d left, but her words cut him deep. Just as she’d intended.

  His eyes dipped to her ass, swaying in that unconscious way that always drove him nuts. The turmoil inside him turned violent. A voice in the back of his mind screamed that he was about to lose her again.

  Can’t lose something I don’t have, he reasoned.

  Ash and Zeek chose that moment to return to their seats. Vin wondered how much of the show they’d caught. Zeek offered him a fresh ale and a pitying look. Guess that was his answer. He took the offered drink and downed three quarters before coming up for air.

  “That bad?” Zeek observed.

  “Did you expect anything else?”

  “Honestly, I expected chairs to be thrown across tables.”

  “Then from that perspective, it went pretty well.” Vin sucked down more booze before muttering, “She’s leaving tomorrow.”

  Ash let out a sigh. “Aidan’s going to be bummed.”

  “Who gives a fuck how Aidan feels!?”

  The two men went quiet for a moment. Then Ash inquired, “How do you feel about it?”

  How indeed? It was like someone had just chewed up his guts and spit them back out. Like his chest was about to collapse into a black hole and take this damn spaceport with it. Every muscle coiled with dread and urgency.

  Most of all, if he let her go this time, he felt as though he’d be sucked down the unending pit of despair that had nearly swallowed him the first time she’d walked away from him, and he wouldn’t be able to claw his way back out.

  There was only one play he could make to keep that from happening.

  Without answering, he stood and bolted toward the ship, rushed toward his compartment, and rummaged through his things, snatching a small package and stuffing it in his pocket.

  On his way out, he passed Aidan.

  “How did it go?” Aidan yelled after him.

  “We’re just getting started!”

  FOUR

  IN HER TINY RENTED ROOM, Priya flopped back on the thin, lumpy mattress held up by a meager frame and placed her arms behind her head. The lack of color on the metallic walls matched her dreary mood.

  She closed her eyes and let out a frustrated breath, once again re-living that terrible day. The day she’d caught Vin with that leggy tramp draped over him, his gaze riveted to her generous bosom. On her friggin’ birthday! Priya knew he’d seen her standing there in the doorway, and he hadn’t even had the gumption to look guilty.

  A knock sounded.

  After a short debate, she labored to her feet, knowing who it would be.

  Vin straightened his posture when she yanked open the door, his russet eyes wary. “Can we speak?”

  She replied with a hard look and crossed her arms.

  Mirroring her expression, he pushed past her, giving her a whiff of his familiar musky scent. He smelled of hard work and man. She used to worship that fragrance.

  Stifling a sigh, she closed the door and gave him her best stubborn frown. Yet, on the inside, she was stupidly eager. He always did that to her. No matter how angry she’d been at him, he could always make her want him.

  Bastard.

  For a long while a tension-coated silence filled the space between them. He pretended to survey her room while she tried to avoid looking at him at all. She sucked at this game.

  Finally, he cleared his throat and spoke up. “I just came to tell you I don’t want you to leave. I want to run Phase Nine with you, and I want us to win.”

  “Thanks for your opinion. I’ll take it into consideration.”

  His lips thinned.

  “Is that it?”

  “Yup.” He shrugged and lifted his palms as if at a loss.

  She stepped toward the door to let him out. That’s when he pounced. He hooked an arm around her waist, halting her movement. Eyes wide, she flipped around in his grasp. He’d made sure she was off balance and had to grip his shoulders for support.

  “No, that’s not it,” he hissed. “Why did you leave me without a word?”

  She blinked. “You know why.”

  “I know what you think you saw, but you’re wrong.”

  “It that so?”

  His words came in a rush. “You knew I was peeved off day. I was already pretty drunk when I saw you at the club, and out of spite I let you think I was interested in that woman. I thought I’d come back to our room and we’d fight a little. I had a plan, you see.” Sorrow entered his eyes. He shook his head. “I never expected you’d up and disappear—without even railing at me.”

  Averting her gaze, she swallowed the lump that had built up in her throat. “You told me we were finished...finished with me.”

  “I was just angry. I wish I’d never...well, I wish a lot of things.”

  She cursed the quiver in her voice. “When I saw you with her, I knew it was true.”

  “It was never true,” he insisted. “Never! I was so damn stupid.”

  His eyes locked on hers with such intensity it stole her breath. Her heartbeat faltered as she recognized that familiar determination she used to love about him.

  Still loved about him.

  “You never answered me.”

  “Oh?”

  “Does Mister Solar Orbit make you happy?”

  She didn’t respond.

  “Does he make you blush like you’re doing now? Make your blood burn?”

  At length, she shook her head.

  He pressed his mouth to hers, and she did nothing to dissuade him. His lips were soft and warm and perfectly molded to hers, just as she remembered. Her body responded just as she remembered, too, melting under the heat of his desire.

  When he crushed her to his chest, she felt something li
ke desperation roll off him. It mixed with her own.

  Tilting her head, she deepened the kiss. He took her cue, slipping his tongue past the border of her parted lips.

  His taste flooded her, became a drug that fired in her veins, igniting her the passion she’d worked so long to suppress. A needy sound escaped her, and she began to meet him with every sweep of his tongue. Her arms latched around his neck as she pushed her body deeper into his.

  Just like that, she was lost.

  The kiss became hard, demanding, reckless, as though both starved for the other. He inched her backwards till he had her pressed against the wall, caged by his strong arms. The cold metal rivaled the burning heat that had come over her. She gave a soft moan; he snarled a hungry groan. One calloused hand slipped to her backside, while the other gripped the small of her back as if to hold her in place.

  Her heart thundered, her breaths coming in harsh gasps. She broke away, overwhelmed by emotion. She muttered, “Damn you,” unsure of whom she was cursing, him or her.

  His lips found hers once more and she relented, needing more of him. The kiss slowed, becoming something unbearably sweet, something pleading, his mouth lightly gliding over hers. With measured movements, his lips traveled the soft curve of her jaw.

  He stopped just below her ear, his whispered breath caressing her skin. “Forgive me.”

  Her mind cried to obey, but she held back. “You can’t just kiss me and expect to be forgiven.” Against her neck, she felt his lips curve into a smile. Could he hear the waver in her voice?

  “How about a thousand kisses, then?”

  “Try a million.”

  “A million it is then.” With a firm grip on her hips, his mouth captured hers once more. She placed her palms on his broad shoulders, letting them slowly flow down his thick mechanic’s arms, reacquainting herself with each titillating muscle. His smooth skin felt blissful under her touch.