Page 34 of Bound by Stars

Weslie

Eight days to Mars

My heart sinks into my stomach. My rib cage constricts like it’s being laced into a corset tighter and tighter until every breath is a struggle.

Husband and wife.

Married.

Skye and Jupiter.

I meet Jupiter’s eyes. Tell me it’s not true.

His lips part, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s not telling her she’s wrong. He’s not telling me it’s a lie.

We both stand.

He’s swept into handshakes, patted on the back, and pulled from person to person, our eyes still locked.

I’m the one to break it.

On my other side, Skye is swept into the chaos of congratulations, fighting to politely work her way toward me.

Jupiter’s mother grins, taking another offered hand.

His father’s posture is tense, whispering in his wife’s ear, but he nods and shakes hands with a tightly focused smile.

I step back from the table. I shouldn’t be here.

I can’t be here. I should never have come.

I smooth the layer of ivory fabric over my stomach and turn away, cutting through the crowd with my head high.

It’s an effort not to rush or race out of the room.

But I will not let that woman see me run.

At the doors, I fight the urge to look back as I round the corner. Then I slip off my shoes and sprint.

I don’t slow down until the sound of my bare feet hitting the floor is echoing off the escape bay walls.

Cool air cuts through my thin dress, but my face is hot.

I’m so glad I left ILSA in my room, so I don’t have to try to explain why my heart is in my throat blocking enough air from getting into my lungs.

I grasp my sides, squeezing tight, holding myself together as I pace.

Why didn’t he tell me? How many times has he said his entire future has been mapped out for him? He’s an heir. I knew better. I was never going to be anything more to him than a moment on a ship between planets. It’s the only place where we make any sense.

I lean against the window, the glass like ice against my hot skin.

Outside, the red planet is already visible in the distance.

So that’s Mars… I wish I had it in me to care.

My dream is so close. Only eight days away now.

When I got on this ship, I couldn’t wait to get off.

But now, even knowing how completely impossible Jupiter and I are, I’m dreading it.

Footsteps slow behind me. I glance back over my shoulder and Jupiter stops. His eyes are pleading with me before he says a word. “Wes, I—”

“Did you know they call Mars’s moon Phobos the ‘doomed moon?’” I can’t see the little misshapen rock. It’s too small, too far away, but it’s out there.

“Yes,” he says through a breath, still panting from the run.

“It’s crashing into Mars.”

He slowly shakes his head. “Fifty million years from now.”

“It might be slow, but it’s still crashing.” I wipe my hands over my wet cheeks.

He steps closer and the ache builds inside me. “I know what you’re getting at, Weslie, but we’re not doomed.”

“Of course we are.” I meet his stare. “Even if you weren’t engaged.”

“I’m not engaged. It’s not settled. It’s a business arrangement made by our parents. But deals change all the time.” He reaches for my hand.

I pull away, pushing off the icy window and moving farther down the hall. “Go back to your people. You shouldn’t have followed me.”

“I don’t want this. Skye doesn’t want it. We had a plan. It doesn’t have to happen.”

“But neither of you warned me. You just let me…” I walk faster. I knew by their faces that they both knew what was coming before it happened. Somehow the confirmation makes it worse.

“It’s my fault. I asked her not to say anything. I thought I could stop it before it was announced.”

I whip back around. “So you lied, and you asked her to lie, too. Do you think that makes it better?” First my mother, then my bot, and now him. Can I not trust anyone in the universe aside from myself?

He steps close, reaching for me again. “I didn’t want to mess this up.”

I shake my head, backing away. “We both know this ends the moment we step off this ship.” I turn to leave again.

“No.” He grabs my hand, his grip delicate like he’s asking me to stop.

I exhale and meet his eyes again, pleading with him to let me go. “I can’t pretend this is real anymore, Jupiter.”

“This”—he points between us—“is more real than anything in my life has ever been. You and me. I can’t walk away. I don’t want this to end when we get off the ship.” He steps closer, so I can feel his warmth against the thin fabric of my dress.

“I’m still an Earther. You’re still an heir. We’re literally from different planets.”

“The only thing that separates them is space.” His gaze is unbroken. Eyes pleading and soft. He squeezes my hand.

“It’s a lot of space.” Another treasonous tear rolls down my face.

“And we’re already crossing it.” Jupiter brushes his thumb over my wet cheek, his fingers grazing my jaw. “Tell me to leave you alone and I will.”

I press my cheek into his palm and close my eyes.

He rests his forehead against mine, the way he did on the dance floor, sending electricity running down my neck through my body.

I lean my weight into him, pressing my lips to his.

He grips my waist, following my steps backward until my shoulders hit the cold window, and I gasp into his mouth.

He kisses me deeper, pinning my body between his and the glass. Two extremes. Hot and cold. All my senses fire off. I can’t think. I can’t breathe. But I don’t care.

His grip tightens on my hips, and I lace my fingers into the back of his hair.

Chest heaving, he draws back. His voice is breathy. “Weslie.”

I kiss him again, not ready to let go of this perfect moment outside of reality.

“Wes.” He pulls back again, just enough to run the tip of his nose along my cheek, whispering in my ear. “I…I think I—”

“Jupiter. Let’s not make this into a game tonight, please,” Gianna shouts, and the pounding echo of her footsteps grows louder behind us.

He whips his head toward the noise and then back to me with wide eyes.

I grip his hand and we run.

The halls are brighter when we come out of the pod bay.

The heavy metal door slides shut with Gianna on the other side.

It opens again with the sound of compressed air as we cut left, then right, and down a stairwell, until we find the bottom.

The hollow pounding of her feet against the metal stairs is cut off as we run into another hall.

The high ceiling and dark gray walls subdue the dim light. We sprint down the wide hallway, past a large cargo bay. The stairwell door opens behind us, and we cut right as Gianna shouts again.

Door after door, but nowhere to hide. Ahead, near the end, an exit. Across from it, one of the cargo bay doors is opened just enough to squeeze through. We stop between them.

Jupiter slaps the button for the exit. White light floods in from the small door, like a beacon.

Gianna is almost in sight. Her footsteps, heavy and echoing.

I pull Jupiter in the opposite direction, slipping into the dark.

The exit across the hall slides closed, and she stops in front of the door.

We creep back farther, deeper into the darkness until Jupiter softly bumps into a pod-like structure, making a quiet thud, and I grab the plastic form to keep it from tottering. We both freeze. I hold my breath, and Jupiter doesn’t make a sound.

Gianna squints and tilts her head, staring into the dark room. Backing across the hall, she hits the exit button.

Light floods in again, reaching out for us as we creep back deeper into the darkness, weaving between rows of large capsules.

She runs the opposite direction, and the exit slides shut.

Jupiter’s fingers find mine. “That…was close.”

“She’s pretty fast”—I swallow and take a deep breath, still winded from the chase—“even for a henchwoman.”

Jupiter laughs quietly. “Running laps around this ship has really improved her speed.” He tugs on my hand, lowering to the floor. “Probably best to wait her out, she might loop back.”

It’s too dark to make out his expression, but my skin prickles with anticipation like an electric charge building in the inches of air between us. “She is pretty determined.”

He leans in closer and pauses like he’s waiting for me. He sucks in a breath and swallows loudly.

“Nervous, Big Six?”

“Something like that,” he whispers and lifts my hand, softly pressing his lips to my palm.

My blood ignites. Without the icy floor under my thin dress leaching the heat out of my body as quickly as it can flare, I would burst into flames. I shift closer, my thigh pressed against his, and weave my fingers into his short hair.

Our lips slide together like we can predict each other’s smallest movements in the dark. Lips and teeth and tongues.

He lifts me onto his lap. “Holy stars, you’re freezing.”

I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him again.

He draws back and huffs out a breath. “This can work, Weslie. I swear. I don’t have to take over the company. And if I’m not the heir, my parents won’t have a say in anything else. They won’t care what I do or who I’m with.”

Behind him, between the rows of silhouettes, endless stars sparkle through the glass wall.

Like the two of us are floating alone in space.

But that’s not real. Everything that stood between us minutes ago is waiting outside this cargo hold.

His parents. His betrothal. His responsibilities.

And stepping aside, giving it all up won’t be easy. If it’s even possible.

“Can we just be lost right now?”

“But I—”

I press my lips to his forehead and say through a breath, “Jupiter, please.”

He cups my jaw, tilting my face so I’m looking at him.

I can barely make out his eyes, but my imagination fills in the details.

“As long as you want to be lost…with me.” His voice is rough and unsure.

“Forever.”

Two sets of casual footsteps and voices echo through the cargo bay, breaking the illusion. The door slides open wider and two figures step inside.

I slip off Jupiter’s lap and we scoot back, deeper into the row, farther from the dim hall light.

“Why is the door open?”

I know that voice.

Jupiter stiffens beside me.

“I was only away for a moment.” The fake confidence in the second, unfamiliar voice wavers.

Lights burst on in sections overhead. We separate, each sliding behind one of the pods.

I press my eyes shut tightly.

“Sabine would have you, and possibly me, thrown off this ship if she knew you left the cargo hold open and unattended. Let’s exercise more caution.”

Where have I heard that voice?

Jupiter’s grip tightens on my fingers.

“Yes, sir,” the other man says.

“Now, where are we with the prototypes?”

The memory of a face takes shape behind my closed eyes. A man in a tuxedo, holding a half-eaten lemon tart. It’s Jupiter’s dad.

“We’ve managed to conduct the necessary rounds of safety testing since we were able to access the plans and finish building them, but they won’t be fully operational until we get the complete code.”

“Good. Let’s run one more round before we arrive. You can never be too careful with bots.”

Bots?

My eyes fly open. ILSA stands in front of me, powered down in the middle of the sea of pods.

No. Not pods. ILSAs. Rows of them. A hundred lifeless screen faces. Faces of the bot I designed.