Page 4 of Accidentally Abducted (Nereidan Compatibility Program #1)

Zeph

I am experiencing what humans might call a "situation."

Jake is sitting across from me at the small table we moved to the common area, working his way through the pancakes we successfully created together, and making small sounds of appreciation that are doing very specific things to my nervous system.

Every "mmm" of enjoyment sends heat cascading through my chest, and I am becoming increasingly concerned that he might notice the way my skin seems to be. .. reacting.

"These are actually really good," Jake says, cutting another bite with what appears to be genuine enthusiasm. "I mean, they're not going to win any awards, but they taste like actual food instead of nutritional paste."

"I am gratified that they meet with your approval," I say, though I am having difficulty concentrating on the conversation. The warmth in my chest is spreading, and I can feel the telltale tingle that precedes... complications.

Jake pauses with his fork halfway to his mouth. "Are you okay? You look a little flushed."

I feel heat rise in my face, which only exacerbates the problem. "I am fine. Perhaps the ambient temperature requires adjustment."

"Huh." Jake sets down his fork and studies me with that direct gaze that seems to see more than I am comfortable revealing. "You know, I was wondering about something."

"Oh?" I attempt to sound casual while simultaneously trying to suppress the growing luminescence I can feel building beneath my skin.

"Earlier, when you were embarrassed about the pancake disaster, I could have sworn I saw..." He tilts his head, clearly trying to work something out. "Do Nereidans change color when they're emotional? Because I thought I saw a kind of... glow."

My entire nervous system freezes. "Glow?"

"Yeah, like... just for a second, there was this golden light under your skin." Jake leans forward slightly, and his proximity makes the sensation in my chest intensify. "It was actually really beautiful."

Beautiful. He thinks my involuntary bioluminescent responses are beautiful, which is both deeply gratifying and absolutely mortifying, because now the glow is definitely becoming visible and there is nothing I can do to stop it.

"That is..." I begin, then realize that lying about basic Nereidan physiology is both pointless and potentially problematic for future interactions. "Yes. Nereidans do exhibit bioluminescent responses during periods of emotional intensity."

"Emotional intensity," Jake repeats, and there is something in his voice that suggests he understands exactly what kind of emotional intensity we are discussing. "So right now, when you're glowing like a very attractive night light, that means...?"

The warmth spreads from my chest down through my abdomen, and I know without looking that the golden luminescence is becoming increasingly obvious. "It means that I am experiencing... significant emotional stimulus."

"Emotional stimulus," Jake says slowly, his eyes fixed on what I can only assume is the growing glow emanating from my skin. "And what, specifically, is stimulating you emotionally right now?"

The directness of the question catches me completely off-guard. In Nereidans culture, one does not simply ask about another's bioluminescent responses. It is considered deeply personal, intimate information.

But Jake is not Nereidan, and his expression suggests genuine curiosity rather than prurient interest.

"You," I admit, because apparently honesty has become my default response to this human who asks impossible questions. "You are... stimulating me emotionally."

"Me," Jake says, and his voice has dropped to something lower and more intense. "Specifically what about me?"

I look at him, really look at him. His hair is still slightly messy from sleep, he has a small amount of pancake syrup on his lower lip, and he is watching me with an expression that suggests he knows exactly how he is affecting me and finds it fascinating rather than off-putting.

"The sounds you make when you eat," I say, my voice rougher than intended. "The way you concentrate when you are learning something new. The way you look at me like you are trying to solve a puzzle, but not because you want to fix me, because you want to understand me."

Jake's eyes widen slightly, and I notice that his breathing has changed. "Zeph..."

"The way you say my name," I continue, because apparently I have lost all capacity for appropriate social restraint.

"The way you stand close to me when you are teaching me something, close enough that I can feel the heat from your skin.

The way you make me want to be worthy of your attention, not because of compatibility algorithms or research protocols, but because I want to see you smile. "

The glow is definitely visible now, I can see it reflecting in Jake's eyes, casting soft golden light across his features. He is staring at me with an expression I cannot fully decode, but it does not appear to be revulsion or fear.

"Jesus, Zeph," Jake says softly. "You can't just say things like that."

"Why not?"

"Because..." Jake runs a hand through his hair, and I notice that his hand is not entirely steady. "Because it makes me want to do things that might be moving too fast for a fake compatibility assessment."

"What kinds of things?"

Jake is quiet for a moment, and I can see him weighing his response. When he speaks, his voice is careful but honest. "Things like finding out if you glow everywhere when you're aroused, or if it's just your face and chest."

The bluntness of the statement sends heat racing through my entire nervous system, and I feel the luminescence flare brighter. "Jake..."

"And things like finding out if you make those little surprised sounds when someone touches you the way you do when you taste something you like."

I am quite certain that I have stopped breathing entirely. "That would be... highly irregular."

"Yeah, well, this whole situation is pretty irregular." Jake leans back in his chair, but his eyes never leave mine. "Question is, are you interested in finding out the answers to those questions, or would you prefer to stick to the structured compatibility assessment schedule?"

I consider this question seriously, though my capacity for rational thought is somewhat compromised by the way Jake is looking at me and the increasingly urgent signals my body is sending.

"The scheduled assessment parameters," I say slowly, "did not account for the possibility of genuine mutual attraction developing within the first twenty-four hours."

"No, I bet they didn't." Jake grins, and the expression is both amused and heated. "So what do you want to do about that?"

What do I want to do? I want to discover whether Jake's skin is as warm as it appears.

I want to learn whether the sounds he makes when he is pleased with food are similar to the sounds he might make under other circumstances.

I want to explore whether the careful way he touches things when he is being gentle extends to how he might touch me.

I want to abandon every protocol I have ever learned and follow the growing luminescence under my skin to whatever conclusion it might lead.

"I want," I say carefully, "to deviate from the established parameters."

"Deviate how?"

I meet his eyes directly, letting him see the full extent of the golden glow that I can no longer suppress.

"I want to kiss you. I want to discover whether your skin tastes as good as it smells.

I want to learn what makes you make those small sounds of pleasure, and I want to find out whether you truly find my.

.. responses beautiful, or whether you were simply being kind. "

Jake is very still for a moment, and I begin to worry that I have overstepped some crucial boundary. Then he stands up from his chair and walks around the table to where I am sitting.

"Stand up," he says quietly.

I comply, rising to my full height, which means I am looking down at Jake from several inches above. He tips his head back to maintain eye contact, and the movement exposes the line of his throat in a way that makes the glow under my skin pulse stronger.

"For the record," Jake says, reaching up to touch my face with careful fingers, "I wasn't being kind. You're absolutely gorgeous when you glow. Like having my own personal aurora."

His touch sends sparks of sensation across my skin, and I feel the luminescence respond, brightening where his fingers make contact. "Jake..."

"And for the record," he continues, his thumb tracing along my cheekbone, "I'm very interested in deviating from the established parameters. But I need you to understand something first."

"What?"

"This isn't just curiosity or physical attraction," Jake says, his voice serious despite the heat in his eyes.

"I mean, it definitely is those things, but it's not only those things.

I like you, Zeph. I like the way your brain works and the way you ask questions and the way you care about getting things right.

I like that you tried to make me pancakes because you wanted me to be comfortable. "

My chest feels tight in a way that has nothing to do with bioluminescence and everything to do with the careful sincerity in Jake's voice.

"So if we're going to do this," Jake continues, "if we're going to explore whatever this is between us, I need to know that you understand it's not just a compatibility test anymore. At least not for me."

I look down at this human who has somehow managed to turn my entire understanding of this assignment upside down in less than twenty-four hours. Who makes me want to abandon protocols not because they are inconvenient, but because they seem irrelevant in the face of what I am feeling.

"It is not a compatibility test for me either," I tell him honestly. "It has not been since you started laughing at our research failures and making observations that are more insightful than three cycles of scientific analysis."

"Good," Jake says, and his smile is soft and real and makes my entire nervous system light up like a star. "In that case, I think we should definitely find out if you glow everywhere."

"That," I manage to say, despite the fact that my higher brain functions appear to have temporarily shut down, "would be acceptable research methodology."

Jake laughs, the sound warm and delighted. "God, I love the way you talk. Come here."

And then he is pulling me down toward him, and I am learning that Jake's skin does indeed taste as good as it smells, and that the sounds he makes when I kiss him are even better than the ones he makes when he eats pancakes.

I am also learning that when Jake runs his hands through my hair and makes small, appreciative noises against my mouth, the bioluminescent response spreads considerably beyond my face and chest.

Research, as it turns out, can be deeply rewarding when conducted with the right methodology.

And the right research partner.