Page 9

Chapter Nine

Amara

Marguerite is intense, I know that. Perhaps I should have warned Roth’kar better. She acts stuck-up and a little harsh, but deep down she’s a softie. She loves Fiona and me dearly and would do anything for us.

Which is, perhaps, why it looks like she’s hiding a knife as she gives Roth’kar the evil eye.

“So,” she says, imperiously leaning forward on one hand, speaking loud enough that we can hear her over the music. She hasn’t even ordered a drink yet. “What are your intentions with Amara?”

Roth’kar shifts in his seat. “I intend to be a good husband.”

“You’re not her real husband yet,” Marguerite corrects. “I know you don’t sign the official paperwork until the thirty days are up.”

Roth’kar’s antennae tense, shrinking down onto his head even though his face betrays nothing.

“I am not thinking of it that way.” He straightens, still keeping his right arms around me. “I am committed to making this work.”

“That sure sounds nice,” Marguerite says, pouncing on him like a cat on a mouse. “But what happens if you and Amara fight about some cultural difference? Surely you’ll have lots of those.”

I stiffen. Like kissing . What if he truly never wants to do that? What if we don’t even like the same things in bed?

“Marguerite,” I hiss under my breath, because I don’t like the doubt her questions are stirring in me. But Marguerite just waits for him to answer.

“I would like to think that we can talk out our differences.” Roth’kar’s tone is calm. “I am eager to learn more about Earth culture, as well as the flora and fauna. Your planet is very beautiful and diverse.”

“He did pet some trees today,” I chime in, and this causes Marguerite to arch an eyebrow.

“He what?”

“The trees are beautiful,” Roth’kar says thoughtfully. “I’ve never seen anything like them.”

“Why?” Marguerite’s question is poised like a dagger. “Are there not trees where you come from?”

“He’s from a spaceship,” I butt in, trying to get her to retract her claws. “He’s never even been on a planet before now.”

This makes her squint with suspicion. “Interesting. How do you know you’ll do all right on Earth, then?”

“I don’t.” Roth’kar connects eyes with hers. “It will be a new lesson every day, I imagine. And I will have to grow and adapt accordingly.”

Marguerite’s lips purse, but she settles back in her chair, arms crossed, as if she’s decided to back off for now.

“Whew, now that the inquisition is over,” Fiona jokes, slinging an arm around Marguerite’s shoulders, “we should get you a drink, Margie, and then it’s time for dancing!”

The two of them sidle off together toward the bar, leaving Roth’kar and me alone.

I exhale a long breath. “Sorry about that.” I clasp the hand that’s around my shoulders. “Marguerite is intense. I didn’t know she’d jump on you like that, but?—”

“It’s all right.” He offers me a smile. “I can handle it, Amara.”

That’s true. He did hold his own pretty well. I have to stop treating him like a child who can’t defend himself.

Roth’kar takes a few more sips of his drink, and his antennae curl forward in what appears to be pleasure.

“I knew I might encounter friends and family of yours who are protective,” he says. “That they may doubt what we have because it’s so new—and our arrangement is rather unusual.”

I relax a little, glad that we got through that introduction without too much bloodshed. Hopefully Marguerite will chill out for the rest of the night so we can have a good time.

I’m nearly finished with my drink by the time my friends get back, and I’m itching to get onto the dance floor.

“Do you want to go out there and dance?” I ask, gesturing to the crowd. Roth’kar’s brows rise on his forehead as he studies the bodies moving chaotically, surging along with the pounding music.

“I don’t know how to dance. This is not something Karthinians do.”

I have trouble imagining anyone in the universe who doesn’t dance. “How do you have fun?”

Roth’kar pauses. “With stories, mostly. About what life was like back on our planet.” He shrugs. “Sometimes my friend Zono and I played betting games, but he’s a schemer and usually won all my chips.”

“Why?”

He gives me a deadpan look. “It is like trying to cheat a cricket of his money.” When I shake my head, not understanding the joke, he adds, “Crickets do not have money, Amara.”

I snort, then stand up and offer my hand to Roth’kar.

“You don’t need any experience to be able to dance. Dancing is just… how your body moves when you’re feeling it.”

He cocks his head, thinking over this. Then, reluctantly, he accepts and takes my hand in his.

I lead us out onto the floor, on the edge of the mass of bodies. Immediately, my feet and legs know what to do, driven by the beat. Roth’kar is standing stock-still, studying me as I dance.

“Try it,” I call out over the noise, wiggling my butt more than I usually do. “Just let the music in. Let it tell you what to do.”

Roth’kar closes his eyes, and the heavy bass rolls over us. His feet start to move in rhythm, which then leads to his legs. I put a hand on his hip, and his eyes fly open, but I don’t let go as I apply pressure in time with the beat.

Soon, his hips are swaying, and I nod encouragingly. “There we go!”

I let him go once he’s got some of the movements down, and we move near the dense group closer to the sound stage.

Roth’kar doesn’t miss the couple next to us—a woman dancing with her back against a man’s front, their hips gyrating in perfect synchronicity.

His mouth falls open, as if scandalized by it.

Okay, we won’t try that, then.

Experimentally, I take one of his hands in mine and try to rock back and forth in the same tempo. In response, he winds our fingers together and starts moving even more of his body in sync with mine.

“Good!” I call out over the music. It’s time to get down.

I shimmy and shake, using my hips and ass and knees.

People are staring at us now, surprised by the alien in their midst. But Roth’kar ignores them, dancing along with me, still holding my hand.

Those bright blue eyes of his are riveted on me, traveling from my face down to my feet, and then back again.

“You are beautiful tonight, Amara,” he says, just loud enough I can hear him over the music.

It takes me by surprise. I didn’t think he noticed.

“Thank you.” Using our linked hands, I pull myself closer to him. “I did it for you.”

Roth’kar’s lips part in surprise. Then, a cautious smile comes over his face, and he reaches with his lower left hand to take mine, his upper hands gently resting on my shoulders.

He doesn’t say anything else, but he doesn’t need to as the music swirls over us.

Soon, Marguerite and Fiona join, and Roth’kar and I release our hold on one another so we can all dance together.

This is when we let loose. Fiona goes wild, dragging over some woman she finds dancing alone in the mass around us so they can dance together.

Marguerite is alone, as she always is, just enjoying the environment.

Sometimes someone will ask her to dance, and she’ll humor them for a couple of minutes before moving on.

After a while I need a drink, so I ask Roth’kar to leave the dance floor with me, and he eagerly agrees. We stock up on water, then head to the bar for our next round of drinks.

“How many are allowed?” he asks as we find a different place to sit at the bar now that our old seats are gone.

“Allowed?” I laugh. “Until you can’t walk anymore, I guess. If you look too drunk or act belligerent, they’ll stop serving you.”

He nods thoughtfully. “That’s reasonable.” He looks down into his cup. “Does this cost you a lot? Taking me out like this?”

An odd question. “I suppose it adds up. But that’s why I have a job I go to every day—so I can have fun when I go out. That’s the point, baby!”

“But it will cost twice as much when you’re with me,” he points out.

“For twice the fun? Sounds like a good deal.”

Now, he’s actually, really smiling, and I feel like I’ve won a prize.

“You humans and your deals .”

We both throw back our drinks, then Roth’kar spots Fiona in the crowd, and we dive back into the foray of dancers. We’re holding hands as I push through the bodies in the way, and he follows along close behind me until we’ve reached Fiona and Marguerite again.

Now that we’ve reunited on the dance floor, Roth’kar is moving easier now, more naturally, so I slide my arm around his waist. He peers down at me, arching an eyebrow, but then his lower arm settles around my hip, too.

His upper hand reaches up to lift a lock of my hair as we move in time with the beat, but he says nothing as he examines it.

He inhales, and he seems to like whatever it is that he smelled.

As the night goes on, people get more and more frisky, dancing dirty and making out. It warms me all over, wondering what it would be like to do that with Roth’kar. I don’t want to push him, though—but maybe the next time we go out, we could get closer.

Then the music changes, and an even faster song comes on.

Everyone in the crowd starts moving at once, and we’re swept up in it.

Fiona throws her hands in the air, so I do, too, and then Roth’kar does.

We dance wildly, and for an alien who’s never danced before, my new husband sure knows how to work it.

When the song’s over, we take a break to get another drink. Roth’kar is enthused with gin and tonics, so I make sure to order him a third one, and we find some spare seats at the bar while we try to get our breath back.

“This is fun,” Roth’kar says with obvious surprise. “This clubbing thing, it’s very enjoyable.”

Perfect. I lean back into his shoulder. He’s stiff for a moment before he lets me come in closer. His hands curl around my side.

“I’m glad you’re having fun,” I say. “Next time, though, we’ll pre-game, and that will be cheaper.”

“Pre-game?”

“Start drinking before we come.” I giggle. “Arrive already lubed up and ready to party.”

“Did you two love birds ditch us?” Fiona calls out, popping up between us at the bar. “You were there one moment, gone the next.”

I gesture to our drinks. “Have to stay topped up!”

Roth’kar holds up a single finger. “I believe she’s right.”

Fiona hoots. “You’ve already got him on your side, Amara. That’s a good start.”

After Marguerite has gotten her next drink, too, all of us find a nice place to sit and lounge until we have our energy back. Roth’kar is quiet, but remains with his arms around me, and I think Fiona’s right.

This is a good start.

It’s nearly one in the morning by the time we all say goodnight, and Roth’kar and I head for the bus stop. I loop my hand through his arm the whole way, even though both of us are unsteady on our feet after so many drinks.

“Good thing you don’t have four legs,” I say to Roth’kar as I stumble on a crack in the sidewalk, but he keeps me upright. I giggle. “Thanks.”

“What would be wrong with four legs?” he asks, voice slurring slightly. I like that he also went wild tonight, and though he’s steadier on his feet than I am, his eyes look glassy and he has a silly smile on his face. Well, as much of a smile as he seems capable of.

“This walking business would be harder, wouldn’t it?” I snort. “Imagine trying to dance with four legs!”

Roth’kar nods seriously. “That would be difficult.”

We come to a stop at the bus shelter and sit beside each other on the empty bench.

We’re the only people trying to take the 59 home at this time of night.

I lean into Roth’kar’s shoulder, pleased by his warmth, by his scent.

I know he’s not wearing any deodorant or cologne—since he doesn’t have any—so it’s just the smell of his sweat, but I like it.

It’s comforting and delicious, but maybe that’s just the alcohol talking.

“Thanks for coming out with me tonight,” I murmur as his two arms loop easily around my back. We grew closer this evening and got to know each other much better. I like what I’ve learned so far.

“It was a pleasure.” Roth’kar rubs my shoulder with his upper hand. “I enjoyed seeing more of your life and meeting your friends.”

“Aw.” I snuggle in closer as cars pass. “They liked you, even if Marguerite was a little difficult at first.”

I can feel Roth’kar smile as he leans his head down against mine. “I’m glad. I want your friends to like me.”

“Well, I like you, too, for what it’s worth.”

Roth’kar’s quiet, still holding me. I tilt my head to get a look at his face, and it’s pensive.

“Tonight was very fun,” he says, brows furrowed in a way that contradicts his words. “I have never had fun like that. Carefree and wild.”

“You didn’t have friends on the spaceship?” I ask, surprised.

“I did, of course. But… we did not have fun together. Not the way you do with Marguerite and Fiona.” He still looks lost in thought.

“It was a new experience for me to simply forget about everything else. In the Hole, hunger always gnaws at your insides. You sleep, and then wake, and then work, and then sleep again, sometimes eating in between. If you do not work, you do not eat.”

The fog of easygoing pleasure around us fades. He had such a hard life before this, and he’s clearly traumatized.

“The way your friends were with you, caring for you, looking out for you, interrogating me to make sure I am a good match for you?” Roth’kar chuckles as if this is a fond memory.

“Most of my friendships were ones of convenience. If something went wrong, I could not depend on them the way you depend on your friends.”

“That won’t be your life again,” I assure him. “You’re with me now, and we’ll always have food to eat. You can always depend on me.”

This time, his voice is quieter. “Thank you, Amara.”

“You don’t have to thank me. It’s my job as your wife.” I still like how that word tastes. “I’ll always be here for you.”

We fall into a companionable silence again as we wait for the bus. They come far more infrequently this late at night, and I’m glad that, for once, I’m not waiting alone.

“I saw lots of people doing the kissing ,” Roth’kar suddenly says. He tilts his head to look down at me. “On Earth, this is how you show someone you like them?”

“It’s one way. There are lots of ways.” I turn so I’m facing him on the bench. “We could find other ways if you don’t like that one.”

“But it’s a way you like.” It’s not a question.

I’m just drunk enough that I say, “Yeah. I really like it.” Maybe my dry spell has lasted more than half a decade now, but I still remember how exciting and intoxicating it was to just make out against a wall, rubbing bodies together, building up the tension for what might happen later?—

Roth’kar leans down so our faces are even closer together. I lick my lips, moistening them, wondering if he’s going to do what I’m hoping he’s going to do.

His blue eyes still wide open, my alien places his lips on mine.