Page 4 of 80% Beef 20% Cake (Alien Fated Mates #2)

4

T he sun, high overhead, glinted through small round windows beneath the roofline. My baking eyelids flickered open, searching for relief. Forced awake, I lurched like Igor to the washroom.

The bitter residue of medicine lingered on my tongue, and I counted like I did every morning. Ten full packs. 105 pills remained. I’d brought enough for six months, double what I would need. Everything’s fine.

“Ugh…” I muttered to my reflection. “You look like shit.” A foil packet fell to the floor, where the heated concrete warmed my toes. I groaned, every muscle protesting as I bent, picked it up, and swallowed down a tablet. First the hoverbike lessons, then yesterday’s hunting trip—I’d been putting my body through the wringer.

My head dipped toward the monitoring app, stretching my taut neck. A dab of tiger balm would help. My nostrils flared when the eye-burning camphor filled the small bathroom. Hot tingles began to ease my achy muscles. As I massaged, I watched the heart icons blip while my heart rate slowed to normal.

This time, when I looked in the mirror, I smiled and threw in a couple of affirmations for good measure. My mental medicine. “I love myself.” I stuck out my tongue and made googly eyes. “I’m the master of my destiny.” I pumped my fist in the air. “I’m exactly enough, just as I am, no changes required.”

JayJay’s rumbling voice echoed in my thoughts. Rare hazel eyes. Gold like a jungle cat’s. Green as his favorite swimming hole. The brown shimmers like the fine whiskey on Yagras. Despite enjoying the heat gathering in my stomach, I brushed his words away. Though I particularly liked the jungle cat reference, I wouldn’t mistake it for a compliment. He would’ve said the same thing to anyone with hazel eyes.

But my inner voice liked to play devil’s advocate, and she quickly trumped my self-love with negative self-talk. You’re thirty-three years old and you’ve never been able to accept a compliment that wasn’t work-related. And you wonder why every relationship you’ve been in has tanked. What’s wrong with you? Just accept the fact that the guy likes your eyes, geesh.

Charz and Pika’s nails skidded over the heated concrete floors when I cracked the freezer door open and shuffled through the shiny-lidded contents. Makir had prepared so many meals that I questioned whether he and Geo actually planned to return from Lorne.

As I lifted frozen containers, I wondered why I guarded my independence so closely. Why was it so damn hard to let people in? But deep down, I knew exactly why I was the way I was. My parents were research scientists who’d spent all their time at the mercy of scheduled lab analysis, working against the clock for breakthroughs to ensure funding. A memory of my sixteenth birthday hurtled to the surface of my thoughts.

I threw my keys on the kitchen counter like I did every day after school and walked to the fridge. My socks squished in something wet and sticky as my eyes tracked the source. What was left of an ice cream cake — just the cardboard base — sat congealed in oily purple and yellow icing, muddied to a swampy brown no one would put in their mouth. I swallowed down the lump building in my throat and ran a dishcloth under the water. Three soggy tickets to Playland, an indoor amusement park I hadn’t been to since I was nine, washed into the sink as I scraped the vanilla-scented sludge off the counter. With my fists pressed to my eyes, I took a personal-sized pizza from the freezer and willed the empty notification bubble on my phone’s screen to fill.

A cold blast of air from Makir’s freezer returned me to the present. It was best I got over my damn self, and quick, because one thing was for certain—this sickness was stealing my ability to rely on myself.

I reheated a delicious mantu soup with graneth seed, uncannily similar to the beef and barley Geo used to make on Earth, and inhaled it. Then, remembering my greens, I added a handful to a second helping. While I sipped from a pink earthenware mug, I used my last linobee hide to craft YimYim’s mittens. I’d have to hang the furs I’d prepped last night with JayJay in Makir’s hovery to cure in a couple of days.

“Yes, yes, I know…” I sing-songed, petting the tops of two ecstatic heads. Charz and Pika jumped up at my legs while I hurried to attach their leashes. “We’re going to deliver YimYim’s mittens. Yes, we are!”

My tall brown boots slipped over my calves like a second skin, and I grabbed the mittens from the table before tripping through the arched front entry in a tangle of paws. Despite the cold air biting my cheeks from the brisk wind, I paused to gaze at the skyline. The horizon purpled as twilight melted a red sun into the blue snow. The dogs’ growing impatience urged me forward through the sharp crust. With each step, snow crunched underfoot.

A Lizzard, a species I hadn’t interacted with, eyeballed Geo’s dogs, and I shortened their leashes. He lifted his crocodile-shaped head toward me for just a second before rushing off. His tail, which appeared to be covered in something similar to leg warmers, left a wide trail in the snow. Hmmm…was that Makir’s creepy neighbor? The one Geo had evicted after he’d threatened Makir?

Lawn mower-like laughs in the distance broke the uncomfortable silence. Despite having their volume dialed to max all the time, Rock Dwellers were my favorite of all the species I’d met, closely followed by the one Lornian inhabiting Tern. Something about their gigantic presence filled a void inside of me. The blend of calm, fun-loving and hardworking spoke to me in so many ways. My parents had loved me in their own way, but nurturing and fun-loving were not qualities in their wheelhouse. One thing they had driven home was a strong work ethic—career first, social life second.

The one exception was JayJay. Although Geo had told me time and time again, “he’s a great guy, hilarious, totally laid back, best foreman ever,” I didn’t see it. To me, his domineering personality and clumsy caretaking floundered in the gray zone between rude and awkward.

But in spite of his loud voice startling me at every turn, he made me feel safe.

After we’d returned from the hunt, he’d sat by my side and helped me strip every fur. He’d even shown me how Rock Dwellers used astringent javae grounds to dry and soften the skins in days instead of weeks. He’d been calm and patient, and as the evening progressed, the prominent ridge that lined his forehead had softened until it lay flat. I’d found myself wondering if his skin would feel like satin if I ran a finger over his smooth head.

We hadn’t argued once.

I exhaled, officially pooped by the time I reached the Rock Dweller sono. As the species responsible for building Tern’s beautiful homes, the sono looked the opposite of what you would expect. Slapdash and drafty, it wasn’t much warmer in here than outside.

Never one to pass up a dramatic entrance, I flung the door open. “Special delivery,” I cried, alerting everyone to my presence. The roar of boisterous greetings, arm-jarring punches and offers of food confirmed my place among these giants.

TeyTey and Sully were visiting with their sons. They yelped when Charz and Pika found them and were soon wrestling on the floor. Unsurprised by their lack of interest in new mittens, I passed them off to Mom for safekeeping and received a warm embrace in return.

Sannit, the youngest Rock Dweller on Geo’s crew, chewed on the end of a pencil as he pulled out a roughly built chair. He always seemed to have something in his mouth. “We saved you a spot.”

Five Rock Dwellers grinned at me, and some raised their mugs of orzfoam.

“We’re just about to start a new game.” Tino dealt me in, the cards dwarfing my hands. “Now, none of that funny business, little Earthling.” He shook one of his three fingers at me, and I admired the flames he had tattooed around his head.

“What?” I forced my eyes wide. “I can’t help that you’re all giants and choose to hold your hands right at my eye level. Nice art, by the way, but I liked the tree better.”

Tino snickered and rubbed his head with his knuckles. “These are because I’m on fire tonight.”

TeyTey snorted and nudged one of his shoulders. “You sound like my younglings.”

While joking with Tino and Sannit, my eyes automatically gravitated toward JayJay’s gigantic presence. He stood just beyond the communal area, blocking the narrow galley-style kitchen behind him, with a steaming mug in one hand. As if an invisible string had pulled him, he lurched toward me so fast that hot liquid slopped over his sleeve. He plunked the oversized mug—clearly his—in front of me.

“Here. Drink this,” he rumbled.

In a flash, my hat was tugged off, and JayJay had unbundled me from my coat before slamming all the windows shut. He returned with a deep red blanket to throw over my shoulders, and when he leaned in, his nostrils flared. Is he sniffing me?

“JayJay, quit babying me already.” Despite welcoming the blanket’s heat, I bristled at the manhandling, but the way his shoulders hunched at my scolding had me backtracking, so I gently squeezed his hand in thanks. His careful return grip sent a wave of warmth through my belly. Was it just me, or was the testosterone in the air extra heady tonight?

“Hey, King Kong, I’m good now. Take your spot.” I removed my hand from his to point to the empty chair. With all his attention on me, he was holding up the game. JayJay slid his chair so close to mine that I might as well have been in his lap. TeyTey snorted from my other side.

Making a concerted effort to ignore JayJay’s presence, I scooped up the deck of oversized cards in front of me.

“Take that, sucker,” I teased Sannit, discarding the worst possible card for him to build off. The half-full mug of tangy, sweet cava I sipped from tasted almost as good as chocolate and was much better than the bitter, boozy orzfoam.

JayJay’s cozy blanket grew heavier as the night went on. Buried in his intoxicating blend of earth and musk, my eyelids drooped. Is this what JayJay smells like? I inhaled deeply, barely able to focus on the cards in my hand.

“Wake up, sleepyhead.” Sannit leaned across the wobbly table and nudged my shoulder with his huge hand. “It’s your turn.”

Was JayJay growling at Sannit? And why was I this tired? I’d slept in past noon today, taken my medicine, even eaten my greens. It must have been the cold knocking me on my ass.

I straightened my spine in the extra-large chair, narrowed my eyes at Sannit, and didn’t have to fake a yawn. “I can do this in my sleep.” Then I slammed my cards against the table. “For the win.” I blew the imaginary fire off my freshly manicured nails—a charcoal-to-black ombre.

“I don’t know how you’re doing it.” Sannit’s deep voice broke, rising an octave.

I smiled at how cute it sounded. Apparently, Rock Dwellers reached maturity later than humans—he was close to eighteen.

Sannit placed his hand over his heart. “But I can’t take this losing streak any longer.” He gazed at the ceiling before he pinned me with a taunting grin. “I fold.” He dipped his face to my level, meeting my eyes. “Until our next match.” He squeezed my shoulder.

JayJay stood so fast his knees hit the enormous table, sending Sannit tumbling.

“Bish, JayJay, I get it.” Sannit backed away with his hands up, his eyes twinkling with something I didn’t understand.

A chorus of “yah, I fold,” and “until next time,” filled the air as chair legs dug into the earthen floors. I bid TeyTey and her family goodbye from my chair, trying to muster the energy to wrangle the pups and walk through the freezing cold. The lyrics of a Christmas jingle kept replaying in my head—“but baby, it’s cold outside”—and I started to drift, still wrapped in JayJay’s warm blanket.

I must have dozed off again, waking when a powerful waft of earth and musk penetrated my senses. JayJay’s gray nose loomed less than an inch from mine. His pores are so tiny. Does he wash with cold water?

“Why are you so tired?” The ridge above his eyes tipped inward like a hairless eyebrow. He placed his hands under my elbows, encouraging me up. “Come on, I’m walking you to Geo and Makir’s dwelling.”

I barely stopped myself from leaning my weight into his giant palms. How had I fallen asleep among a house full of excited Rock Dwellers when their normal rumbling voices had kept me awake late into the night when I’d stayed here?

“No, no.” I stood, stepping out of his hold. “I’m good. The night air will be just the thing to wake me up.” I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince, but the huge yawn that escaped me didn’t work in my favor.

“I’ll accompany you.” JayJay’s deep voice boomed.

Wide awake now, I cringed. “Inside voice, please.”

As if anticipating my next move, JayJay placed my hat on my head, lifted my arms to guide them through my jacket sleeves and scooted my mittens over my hands.

Too late, my senses returned, and I batted his hands away. “What are you doing?”

Leashing the dogs, JayJay moved to the drafty entryway. “I’m helping.”

Charz and Pika sat patiently, eyes focused on JayJay, their usual manic selves awaiting his next command. With his legs spread, arms folded and jaw set, he looked entirely too competent, too masculine, too inviting.

“If you must.” I rolled my eyes, but a rush of gratitude filled me. This way, the dogs wouldn’t be yanking on me all the way to Makir’s.

“I must.” His deep voice reverberated down my spine.

A few lawnmower-like laughs came from behind me. When it came to fulfilling his obligation to watch over me, JayJay was very thorough. I spun around and waved a quick goodbye to the remaining Rock Dwellers. “Hush, traitors.”

“Rematch?” Sannit called out.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Let’s go.” JayJay tugged me through the doorway.

“Bye.” I waved my hand high over my head as a gust of cold air sent my hair flying. “Jeez, King Kong.” I shook my hand free from JayJay’s and repositioned my thumb inside the mitten he’d jammed on. Back to his dickish domineering, it seemed. “I’m coming already.”

I trudged over the frozen ground. The moon patterned the blue snow’s dips and furrows with dark shadows, making it difficult to assess the depth, and I slowed to a Frankenstein-esque lurch.

Far ahead, JayJay abruptly stopped, retraced his steps to me and handed over the leashes. Hatless and gloveless, the moon glinted off his smooth head and turned his skin silver. Blue snow fell around us, disguising the path under its thick veil. Grunting, he started down the trail again, this time with much smaller steps than his regular stride.

“I would’ve gotten home just fine on my own,” I muttered, Charz and Pika jerking against my sore arms.

He eyeballed the dogs, who now had me bent forward as if I were reining in a pair of stallions. Disloyal little beasts. They settled like perfect angels when he took the leashes back. Have at it. I’m not going to complain.

With the trail broken in front of us, even I had to admit that walking came much easier, especially for little Jack Russell legs. “Thanks for packing down the trail.”

Our breaths swirled like smoke, the snow crunched in a steady rhythm, transforming the night into something inexplicably peaceful, and I found my annoyance at JayJay dimming.

“JayJay?” My voice rose over our footsteps.

He grunted.

“Why do you and TeyTey and her younglings all have double names?”

“There are seven districts on Yagras and we both come from Nara. It’s customary on Nara to say a name twice. It’s meant to bring long life.” A smile softened his square jawline, as if he was recalling a fond memory.

“And Ginger…is that a common name on Earth?”

“Sort of. Depends where you live a little too. It’s actually a spicy root that grows in the ground.” A cold wind circled us, blowing the flaps of my hat until they smacked my reddened cheeks. “I have a special order for a coat that will need more linobee. Do you know of any other spots? I don’t want to over-hunt the same area.”

The crunching continued, and he didn’t respond for the longest time.

“Linobee will swarm if not regulated. Don’t worry for them. The enforcers have told me about tracks in the Starry Mountains.” He turned to face me, poking absently at the hole in his pants he’d still not brought me to repair. “It’s very cold there. I’ll bring you back what you need.” He spun to face forward again, breaking the trail as if he had the final word—no contest.

The peaceful moment shattered. Yes, it would’ve been nice to have more furs magically show up and skip all the hard stuff. But the hard stuff was part of the adventure, and I hadn’t traveled all the way to Tern not to see it.

“Listen, King Kong, I can handle the cold, and I don’t need a man assuming he needs to do things I’m perfectly capable of.” My body warmed as my anger built. “If you need to accompany me because of your obligation to Geo, you can come—”

Partway through my tirade, JayJay stopped, and I nearly walked into his backside on the narrow trail.

“—Otherwise, I’ll speak with the lead enforcer and have her program the coordinates into my wristport.” I should’ve just asked Sisip in the first place.

I pressed a finger to his chest. Even buried under a mitten, I could feel how muscled he was. When I looked him in the eye, a wild fervor leaped there before he shook his head and locked down the emotion. Did no one ever say no to this guy? He dug at the snow with the toe of his boot, his commanding composure broken. The ridge on his forehead dipped and straightened as if he were fighting an internal battle. Or maybe he was as unused to touch as me?

“I’m coming with you,” he belted out before carefully stepping around me. Then he resumed his small, steady steps to Geo and Makir’s.

When we reached the covered porch, JayJay squatted and petted each eager dog on the head, then he grunted a quick goodbye before jogging away into the cold, dark night. The absolute silence he left me in roared in my head, even louder than his thundering voice.

I muttered to the dogs, “Maybe I won’t tell him when I leave to go trapping this time.”