Page 24 of Monsters in Love: Lost in the Stars
Margot
Being at the stadium to babysit Emily wouldn’t be so bad if I actually liked the sport or understood any of its rules, but I don’t. It’s not that I hate it, but this isn’t exactly my idea of fun.
Em and I take our seats in our regular booth with the other spouses and girlfriends of the players. We smile and greet them, and it’s all very cordial and polite, of course. I’m thrilled that Emily is finally coming out of her shell and making new friends. After the attack on Cristal, I thought she’d wind up a recluse for the rest of her life. I wouldn’t have blamed her if she did. But therapy was good for her, as she keeps reminding me, because she knows I need it, too.
One of these days, I keep telling myself, I’ll make that holodeck call.
The players swim around in the giant orb filled with water. I try to follow the ball, but it moves so fast I have no clue what’s going on. This sport makes me think of a flea circus on steroids. Emily hasn’t blinked once since the game started. Meanwhile, I’ve had to pee since our driver dropped us off in docking bay three. That was an hour ago.
Suddenly, Emily grabs my arm and squeezes it until all the sensation leaves my fingers. “There! Did you see that? Did you see what Iverson just did?!” Em squeals and hops up and down, still yanking on my arm.
“No,” I say, squinting at the players as they swim back and forth inside the orb. I can’t see shit, if I’m being honest. “I’m going to the bathroom,” I yell into her ear as the crowd erupts around us.
Emily can’t hear me, and doesn’t even notice when I pull my arm out of her grip and head up the aisle. Popcorn crunches beneath my boots as I make my way past families with snot-faced children screaming their little lungs out. Ugh, end me now.
When I finally make it to the women’s restroom, I let out a long groan. The line is going all the way down the hall to the hot dog stand. I look over at the men’s restroom. No line. Not a single soul entering or leaving.
Figures. A plan hatches in my head, and before I know it, I’m darting inside the men’s restroom before anyone catches me in the act.
My heart thunders in my chest. Did I really do that? Me? Little Miss Proper, breaking the rules. Fine, there’s technically no Terran law that says women can’t use the men’s restroom … but this feels like I’m doing something naughty. I make a beeline past the urinals, head straight into one of the stalls, and slam the door shut.
I’m about to pull down my leather pants when the heavy plodding of boots turns my blood to ice. Thump. Thump. Thump. The footsteps stop directly in front of my stall. I clear my throat.
The stall door rattles on its hinges. Someone’s trying to open it. Fuck.
“U-Uh, hello? Sorry, this one is occupied!” I squeak. Who the hell is trying to get into my stall when all the others are free?
“Little snake, I thought that was you. What are you doing in the men’s restroom, I wonder?”
The guttural voice is familiar, and I only know of one person in the universe who calls me ‘little snake.’ I hate that stupid pet name. And I especially hate the way my insides turn to goo hearing it spoken out loud. Normally, he’d text it during one of our late-night sessions.
“Aiken?”
This is mortifying. I slap my hands over my mouth as my knees tremble. Why are my knees shaking? I know Aiken. And as much of a buffoon that Gorcian is, I know he wouldn’t actually hurt me. Not without my consent, anyway.
“Good guess. What gave it away?” he grumbles, then slams his fist against the door.
I yelp and leap on top of the toilet, balancing along the rim as the door swings wide open, revealing the Gorcian. He stands there in his full bounty hunter attire: a black Kevlar suit with blue stripes that run down the length of his muscular arms and barrel chest. His head is basically an oversized helmet and just as shiny. In the middle of his face are his eyes, yellow and blinking as the mandibles under his mouth click together. More insect than man, Aiken’s appearance has always both repulsed and aroused me in equal measure.
He offers me his claw, and I take it reluctantly. I step off the toilet and feel every single muscle in my body tighten as he stares me down. Gorcians aren’t capable of facial expressions, so it’s impossible to know what he’s even thinking.
“The ladies’ room is across the hall,” he says in a deep, rumbling tone.
I swallow. “I … I know. But the line was too long. And I couldn’t hold it anymore. So I figured, if I hurried, it wouldn’t be that big of a deal if I just came in here.”
He continues to stare at me, his expression completely unreadable. I resent how I can never tell what’s on his mind, and how he’s always staring at me when we’re in person. I hate that his mandibles make such an annoying clicky-clacky sound constantly. I hate that he’s always following Xavian around like a little puppy. And I especially hate that he is always, always at the apartment when I go to pick up Emily, which I know isn’t fair of me, considering he lives there, but still. Doesn’t he ever go out? Doesn’t he have any other friends?
“What? Do you have a problem with anything I just said?” I say, smoothing the flyaway hairs on the top of my head and pushing past him. “Because it’s not against the law for me to pee in here. So, if you don’t have anything better to do, please leave me alone so I can piss in peace.”
“Your smart little mouth is going to get you in trouble one of these days,” Aiken mutters. I don’t bother to look back at him as I saunter toward the door. “And that day is going to be soon, snake.”
I freeze, then glare at him from over my shoulder. “Is that a threat, you overgrown beetle bastard?”
Aiken is quiet for a moment, and then he chuckles darkly. “No. It’s a promise.”
“Well, don’t,” I hiss. If I had fangs, I’d be baring them right now. But the best I can do is a finger wag.
He doesn’t blink. He just … keeps on staring as usual. “Or what?” he rasps. “What will you do?”
I huff as I cross my arms. “How do you know so much Universal, anyway?” I always figured he was using a translation app whenever we texted each other, but his spoken Universal is actually proficient.
Aiken shrugs. “Maybe…” He strides up to me, closing the gap between us. Then he looms over me until my back is pressed up against the door. Typical male, trying to use his size to intimidate a woman. Such an asshole move. “I wanted to learn it so we could have a conversation in the flesh. Ever think of that?” His claw brushes across my bottom lip, and my mouth goes completely dry. I do my best not to squirm or visibly react even though my body so, so desperately wants to.
I level my gaze at him in a silent challenge. “Mm. And you have so much to say to me, now?”
Our texting is seldom ever filled with deep conversation. What winds up happening on those lonely nights is he’ll message me, horny, and I, being awake at two in the morning and also horny, will text him back. Rinse and repeat for a year.
And when we do see each other in person, I’m always in a hurry to un-see him.
I’m pissed off just how wet I am right now. How dare my body respond to him this way? As if I’m not in the driver’s seat. He lifts a claw and scratches my cheek in a soothing caress. I want to melt. Right here, right now, in a little puddle on the tiles. My lashes flutter, and Aiken blinks slowly.
“You like this,” he murmurs. It’s not a taunt or a threat. Just a neutral statement.
I nod.
“You like being treated like a flower, don’t you?”
What am I supposed to say to that? I don’t know, so I say nothing. When he removes his claw from my cheek, I let out a whimper of disappointment, already missing his touch. Oh my God, Margot. What the hell is wrong with you?
Aiken pushes me away from the door, then yanks it open and steps out into the busy hallway. I don’t follow him.
Seconds later, I hear him barking at all the women who are still in line for the bathroom to get out of the way. There are yelps and shrieks … then silence. The door opens again, and Aiken pops his head inside.
“There. Use the ladies’ room, woman. I’m going back to my seat.”
He slams the door shut, leaving me alone to contemplate my poor decision-making skills. The faint dripping from one of the faucets reminds me of where I am, and I lift my fingers to my bottom lip. Then I chew on it like an anxious teenager, a bad habit I haven’t indulged in for years.
I wish I could get him out of my system, once and for all.