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Jovie listens to me like every word is gold. “I must be so boring compared to everything you’ve seen.”

“Not at all. You found an egg! And pulled some ninja shit on that ropes course.”

She bashfully laughs and shifts in her chair like she’s uncomfortable with the compliment.

“Why don’t you order some food and tell me more about your job?” I suggest.

Jovie quickly orders an entre on the tablet at the table, then pushes it toward me.

“Trying to eat like the nurse said, but I just want to look around and enjoy not being covered in gear grease or igniter dust.” She waggles her head.

“Sometimes it’s hydraulic fluid if there’s a leak in a line somewhere.

Older models still use hydraulic positioning ram stabilizers. ”

When Jovie pauses to stare at a passing fish, I order a Halthadorian appetizer platter and a large Lemon Charger. Sounds interesting.

“What all can you repair?” I ask.

“I’m a Class Five engineer. So I can work on any system connected to thrusters and hoverpads. I just can’t operate them. Charging system, thrust capacity, fuel efficiency, directional adjusters, housing and space frame, control modules including reprogramming, you name it.”

Jovie speaks softly and doesn’t take her eyes off the iridescent orange fish like her job is second nature to her.

Our food arrives, steaming hot. Jovie doesn’t hesitate to dig in as if the heat of her fried foods doesn’t bother her. I watch her put a mozzarella stick in her mouth and bite down like it’s nothing.

“What?” Jovie realizes what she’s doing and pauses. “I may have put some hot tools in my mouth a time or ten. But when you’re hanging from a tether inside an engine, all you have is what you’ve got.”

My pants tighten, and I’m thankful for the cover of the table. “A hot tool, huh?”

Jovie gives me a dark grin that makes my cock stiffen until it’s painful. She slowly curls her tongue around the rest of her mozzarella stick and sucks it into her mouth.

My mind wanders. I wonder if she can handle an electric tool.

Once she’s done chewing, she orders one more thing. “Have you ever tried Klaphos alcohol?”

“It’s good. Why?”

A server soon brings her a tray with six different shot glasses in an array of colors.

Jovie arches a brow. “I paid a lot to be here. But I really just want to try a sip. If you want the rest, you can have it.”

She tastes the first one, then sets it down, makes a sour face, and swallows. “Oof, strong burn on that with a hint of something peppery.”

“Is that really all you’re drinking from that shot?” I ask as she continues eating.

“Well, yeah. I’m not an idiot. I don’t drink on a regular basis, and I barely made the required weight in my physical. Besides, I don’t want a repeat of last night but blackout shitfaced. I want to remember this.”

“Fair enough. Care if I finish it?”

She motions to the shot.

I take it and down the glass. “Spicebomb. Nice.”

Jovie tries each one, making different faces every time. I finish them. When she gets to the second to last, she takes two sips. “Ooh, I like this one.”

I study the glass in her hand. It’s milky blue. “Lilivanna.”

She nods as she reads the label.

I lick a lip. “Do you want me to tell you what it is?”

“Sure.”

“Promise you’re open-minded? I don’t want to make you sick.”

She squints at me. “They wouldn’t serve it if it wasn’t safe. Safety is all I really care about.”

“True. That’s fermented fruit nectar blended with kilphoro semen. Protein and alcohol.”

“No joke this time?”

“No joke.”

She tilts her head, eyes it, looks at me, then downs the rest of the shot.

My Storm claws at my skin suit, wanting out, begging me to pick her up, lay her back, and take her on the table.

I run a hand over my chest. Not in front of everyone. We can’t lose our heads. I might not be a prince, but I still represent our people. Calm the fuck down.

Jovie tries the last, shrugs, and hands it to me. “I prefer the Lillivanna.”

I take the glass, feel a spark between our fingers, and pant a breath as I strain to keep my composure. There’s no way I’m going to make it all week without a boom of one kind or another. I down the shot and set the glass back in the tray.

“How many does it take to get you drunk?” she gasps.

“Hoping to take advantage of me?” I tease as I finish eating.

“Just wondering what a big guy like you can take.”

I down the last of my Lemon Charger, feel my Storm slow until it’s like syrup inside me, and lean back. “About twice this. But I’ve got a nice buzz going. Any chance you’re up for the pool?”

Jovie wipes her face with a napkin and looks up at the fish in the tank one more time. “Alright, sure.”

I get up and offer her a hand. She takes it, and I savor the little zing between our fingers again.

As we walk back to her room, I find myself in awe once again that I’ve finally found her.

Jovie leans into me.

“Hey, I uh…”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t think you know how much it means to me that you let me touch you so much.”

“What do you mean?”

“Even my own people do not touch me.”

We stop outside her door. Jovie turns to face me. “Why wouldn’t they?”

“My Storm is different. Rogues don’t touch Royals, ever.

But a lot of my kind won’t touch me simply because I’m.

..” A Torchbearer. I just don’t know what that is.

And if I say anything, I know she’ll ask.

“I can’t control my Storm like most. I can’t hide it like they do.

It’s more powerful and reckless. If it ever gets to be too much… ”

Jovie rises on her toes and presses a finger over my lips. “Just touch me once, and don’t let go. Keep us in continuity.”

The notion she wants me to stay so close has me leaning toward her, but I’m feeling playful and quickly but gently nip at her finger, then lick the taste of alcohol from it.

Jovie gasps, draws her finger from my lips, and steps back into her door. She clumsily scans her armband, flings herself into her room, and hides behind the door, peeking out at me. “I’ll change and meet you at the pool?”

“Don’t want an escort?” I ask.

Jovie swipes a loose strand of hair from her face. “Need a minute to calm down.”

“Alright. See you soon. If I don’t, I’m going to look for you and make sure you’re okay.”

My Storm is a bit intoxicated and wants me to push the door open and take her. But I don’t want to push her before she’s ready. It’s important to me that she wants me, and I get solid confirmation it’s mutual.

“I’ll show up,” she says. “I just need to take my gauntlets off and change.”

“Ah, okay. That makes sense.”

Jovie slowly closes the door.

I brace myself on the wall beside her door and listen to her soft humming. I think she’s happy.

I hope she is. Because if she stays with me, this might be as good as life gets.

I wish I could walk away, let her down easily, and protect her from the chaos unfolding with my home fleet.

But my Storm won’t let me. And I’m torn, trying to decide what’s better for her: me and my problems or her freedom to start over with someone else.

I squirm under the protest from my Storm.

Let’s just give this a little more time.