Page 5

CHAPTER FOUR

S witch out the old parts, weld this plate back in place, and move on to the next panel. On and on I go.

I’ve always loved this. Good, old-fashioned, hands-on work. Working with my hands helps keep my mind wonderfully blank. The feel of cold steel against my skin, the smell of heated solder wafting through the air, and the comforting familiarity of the stir-friction welder in my grasp.

Back on Earth, I was part of a team developing new techniques to remove the opaque capacities of materials, essentially turning steel or even wood as transparent as glass, but without compromising on the structural integrity.

It was cutting-edge R&D, but right in this moment, I’m no better than an overqualified mechanic hiding out with basic circuitry.

I would be lying if I said I wasn’t glad about it.

That’s one of the many reasons Müller and I never worked. He was too ambitious, always striving ahead in–

“Nope.” I shake my head.

I’m not thinking about him.

Just work.

Chelenko has been working on getting the Columbus lab module repaired and back up to working order.

It took a heavy hit in the form of budget cuts, but it’s wasted space up here when every inch matters, and so it’s currently something of a passion project until the ESA decides they want the lab recommissioned.

The last time I saw Columbus in action was when I had my own experiments to perform here. That was over five years ago. Now it sits empty, waiting to be wanted again. I know the feeling.

The once cutting-edge technology has aged, failing to keep up with modern progress. The whole station has. The ISS needs a huge overhaul.

Perhaps that is why Chelenko enjoys it. I wonder if he likes the solitude. He is akin to a lone hermit crab scuttling along in a sea of stars.

What does he think about me encroaching upon his solitary existence? I wonder as the snip of his wire cutters sound behind me, echoing from his end of the room. I hear the whir of his friction welder spinning up, before the rumble of it pressing against the metal.

I follow his lead and fire up my device.

Finally, peace once more.

I relax into the methodical, routine fixes that even a grad student could complete.

After a long, stretching moment, there’s a knock on the stainless-steel panel above me. Sliding out from underneath, welding tool in hand, I push up my goggles .

Long, elegant fingers tap rhythmically against the metal. A small smile tugs at my lips.

“Are you free? Solo for uno memento ?” Luca asks, his eyes darting to the grinding and sparking over in the corner, where Chelenko continues to beaver away with a work ethic past Soviet Russia would be proud of.

I nod, smiling as he pulls me up to him. He wraps me in his arms and buries his nose in my hair as he inhales. “I missed you.”

“You just saw me,” I protest.

“Si , hours ago, Fiore ,” he pulls me into him, “But that was before…”

I freeze, stilling against him.

He means before our recent interloper. He must know. I bet Matherson told him. She probably took delight in spilling the beans on Matthias and me.

Luca pulls me in closer, snug, until my hips are flush against his and I can feel how much he missed me. Every single red-hot, girthy inch of him.

With my chest pushed tight against his, he peers down at me, eyes half-hooded and gaze hungry.

“I want you,” his warm breath fans over my neck as his wandering fingers clutch at the curves of my hips.

“What? Here?” I squeak, glancing over at the back of the lab to make sure Chelenko isn’t watching us. Sparks continue to shoot out of the wall cavity, just as they start to ignite between us .

I’m not immune to his charm. My body hums with anticipation. It’s reacting despite my mental turmoil.

Luca nods slowly, his eager hands cupping my ass, one large palm for each cheek. His eyes darken as he leans forward. I angle my face up to his, our noses almost touch. I can smell the minty toothpaste on his breath, can practically taste it, and I clench my thighs together in anticipation as he–

The harsh sound of a throat clearing echoes behind us.

“ Store ich gerade ?” Müller’s harsh tone resonates through the small module, slipping back into the strong rural accent of his youth, as it often did in the past, when he’s upset. Or annoyed. Right now, I’d say the latter.

His lips purse into a severe line, his narrowed glare honing in on Luca’s hand blatantly palming my arse.

“ Was treibst du denn da ?” Matthias glares at me.

I pinch the bridge of my nose, the tension already brewing a headache behind my eyes. I push back from Luca, and hurt rises in his eyes, making me pause.

“Speak english, Müll–”

“Matthias.” His glare flicks to Luca, then back to me, “You know I don’t like it when you call me Müller.”

“ Matthias Müller,” I repeat, ignoring the flare of his eyes and clench of his jaw. “Luca Nespoli.”

“Luca Nespoli. Matthias Müller.”

“ Jep . We’re acquainted,” his large body tenses tight as he clenches and unclenches his fists by his sides. “Not as well as you, it seems.”

I frown.

Luca smirks at me. All the vulnerability of this morning is gone as he openly, almost defiantly, palms my butt again. Müller’s narrowed eyes dart to Luca’s hand and back up to my face.

“What do you want, Müller?” I snap.

“I know who he is,” Matthias moves closer, “I want to know who he is to you .”

I pause.

The hiss of the air recyclers becomes overloud in the silence. Anxiety rears its ugly head, and I default to professional Alex. Work-mode engaged.

“Nespoli is a mission specialist. BioMining.” I turn to him for confirmation.

“BioRock,” he nods enthusiastically, his eyes lighting up. “Microbes can extract minerals directly from the rock for us. Fascinating. The implications are endless…” He trails off, noticing Müller’s displeased expression.

Feeling brave. I clear my throat, “Our personal relationship is none of your business.” I narrow my eyes at Müller.

“We’re lovers,” Luca states with the confidence only a hot-blooded Italian can muster .

I’m positive my internal groan is audible.

“Müller, why are you here?” I fold my arms over my chest to put a little distance between myself and Luca. All the while, Luca gives another squeeze of my arse. I refocus my glare on him instead.

It’s beginning to feel an awful lot like some kind of pissing match, and I forgot my umbrella.

Fucking men .

If only I were into women, my life would certainly be a lot easier.

Neither man shouts. But their presence is overpowering, screaming at me. I feel the walls closing in, trapping me between a rock and a hard place. A very hard place, I can’t help but think as I glance at the front of Luca’s still half-tented grey joggers.

“A grand gesture–.” Müller’s words pull back my attention. His own eyes flaring wide as he notices Luca’s tent.

“Yes,” I grit out. “You said that already. Why? What do you want?”

He sighs, defeated. “I want my wife back.”

Luca drops his hand from me as if I scalded him.

Finally, I’m granted the personal space I’ve been seeking. His boyish features contort as he frowns down at me, brows slanting across his sun-kissed forehead in an unasked question .

I pray a tear in the hull rips open, sucks me out, and the void of space swallows me whole, leaving no trace behind.

“I’m not your wife.” I turn back to my work. “You’re wasting your time and mine. Leave. I have work to do.” I reach across the counter and pull my goggles back on, arming myself with the welder.

Without waiting for a response, I crouch down to head back under the panel, replacing burnt-out wires before my emotions betray me and I say something I’ll regret. I spin up my friction welder.

“We’ll see about that,” Müller mutters.

I turn to Luca. “You should go too.”

“ Alex– ”

I raise my hand, welder in tow, “We will be planet side in less than twelve hours.”

“ Fiore –”

“This was fun, but my ex turning up is… inconvenient.”

Inconvenient. As if an ex popping out of the metalwork is a normal everyday occurrence. A slight spanner in the works to the otherwise daily routine.

10:00: Spacewalk for orbital maintenance

13:00: Matthias comes to ruin my peaceful fucking existence.

“No, Fiore. You wound me.” Luca clutches his hands to his chest as if pained.

“Stop. We’re finished. It’s over.”

His jaw drops, hands still clasped together.

With a tight purse of his lips and a single, heated, lingering look, Luca relents. A glance over my shoulder shows the embers of the hidden hurt burning in his eyes – that and a defeated droop of his wide, unjustly muscular shoulders.

I watch him leave, my eyes coming to rest on Matthias as Luca passes him. He smiles at me.

He actually fucking smiles.

“ No.”

“Alex ?”

“ I said no, Müller.”

“But–”

“Get out,” I shout. My arm shoots straight out, pointing at the exit.

He swallows, “You're angry.”

I laugh humourlessly.

“Ok, but I will be back,” he says before he ducks out of the open hatch.

Four months ago, I was fully committed to swearing off men. All men. Not just six-foot-tall, workaholic Germans with eyes the colour of soft tree moss and–

Stop getting distracted, Alex .

Two months ago, I would have sworn it was only a playful flirtation. Nothing serious. I definitely won’t let one thing lead to another.

Now look at me, with my new lover introducing himself to my husband. Ex-husband . I can’t help but cringe at the word ‘lover’ , it implies so much more than sex.

“ Nakonets ,” Chelenko grumbles as he releases his welder to the worktop, adjusting the velcro to keep it in place before reaching across for the wire micro-cutters. The loud clatter brings me out of my mental spiral.

I turn my gaze to him, blinking. “What?”

“I said…” He pauses as he lifts his visor, a thick line of grime frames his surly face. “Finally.”

He gestures at the open hatch behind me, where Luca and Matthias were. “This why no women in space is better.”

“Pardon?” A harsh giggle burst out of me.