Page 40 of Stealing the Star Stone

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Artivar Station

Heading to Eastwood Hall for the premiere.

I’m no longer alone.

Year of 2202, June

Eli didn’t want Nova out of his sight, not for a second.

But when they docked, Graham whisked her away despite his protests.

He stared after them, wishing he could follow.

But he knew the drill: head to his apartment, shower, put on his tux, and hurry to the premiere.

Tons of interviews awaited him, more so than normal after the events of the past six days.

So quickly he’d gone from alone, his arrogant self, to…what? He couldn’t claim to be dating Nova when they’d yet to discuss it. They’d agreed to visit family. Maybe in the month they were apart he could work up the courage to ask her to be his?

For now, he did as expected, trudging along the private corridor then up to his penthouse suite.

He crossed the sterile apartment to the wall of windows overlooking the docking bays.

The ships coming and going intrigued him and summoned a sense of timelessness.

This view was why he’d bought this place.

He scanned the ships, searching for the Valiance . A futile attempt on his part when massive ice haulers were the size of thumbnails. Offering the windows his back, he scanned the lifeless décor in steel and white. After the vibrancy of Lethara and Nova’s bold red hair, he missed color.

The state-of-the-art shower couldn’t compare to the one he’d shared with Nova a few hours ago. He didn’t linger, choosing instead to sit on the bed in his towel and stare at nothing.

A stomach gurgle reminded him he needed to eat something other than yuxmet jerky, protein bars, and a glass of alien juice.

“Alexa, order a pizza.” Would Graham make sure Nova ate, too? Eli was tempted to task him to do that. A chuckle had him shaking his head. She could take care of herself.

“The usual?” Alexa asked, her mechanical voice sultry. He could’ve chosen a unisex monotone, but his past self had thought otherwise.

“Yes.” He rose, crossed to his closet, and chose a tux at random.

As he dressed by rote, he replayed memories from the moment he met Nova to their last few hours.

The urge to pat himself down as if he’d lost something made his fingers twitch.

He was midway through snapping the magnetic clasps on his boots when the elevator chimed, announcing his pizza had arrived.

He gave his damp hair a glance. Hopefully it would dry while he ate.

His five o’clock shadow had darkened, on its way to beard status.

He did need a shave, but he hadn’t bothered.

Something was off, like his appearance was no longer his core focus.

To be expected when his future was uncertain, but still, he prided himself on his ability to change course without too much fanfare.

A director wanted snow instead of a desert?

No problem. Shaved head? Sure. Blue skin? Why not. Jump off a cliff? Anytime.

But he’d never been in love.

“Evening, George,” he said when the elderly concierge exited the elevator, pizza in hand.

“Mr. Thorne. Welcome home. The papo sure made our lives a misery.” He waddled to the kitchen and placed the pizza box on the counter.

The aroma had Eli’s mouth salivating.

“Glad to be home,” he said, though his voice lacked warmth. “Want a slice?”

“Kind of you to offer, Mr. Thorne, but the missus made my favorite.” George smiled, cracking his laugh lines that resembled old road maps. “Mr. Whitney has a hover waiting to usher you to the premiere. When you are ready, of course.” He left without another word.

Eli ate half the pizza in silence. Alone.

Solitude hadn’t bothered him, but to be fair, he’d never met a woman quite like Nova.

He left the rest of his dinner, brushed his teeth, ran his fingers through his still-damp hair, and headed down.

Swarms of reporters greeted him the second he stepped onto the landing pad.

Drones flashed as they took photos and footage.

Questions were thrown at him without letting him answer, but he waved with a wide grin in place.

The silence in the self-driving hover was welcome, a stark contrast to how he’d hated it in his apartment. He savored it while he whizzed along the rails. Graham would greet him on the red carpet. And beside him would be Nova.

Excitement sparked in his chest, and he formed a genuine smile.

She’d probably been put through the wringer: hair, make-up, gown adjustments.

In truth, he’d never thought about his dates suffering to be on his arm.

Not even after starring in Alien in Lipstick when he’d learned firsthand what women endured.

But the past six days as Nova had opened his eyes.

That growing ache in his core was no longer there. Her monthly cycle loomed. And yet, she’d barreled through the adventure without mentioning it. That implied all women went about their daily lives in some level of pain.

The hover stopped, and the door slid open. “Destination on your left.”

He peered out and blinked, blinded by more lights.

“Eli, over here,” someone called.

“This way, Eli.”

Where’s Graham?

He ignored them all and climbed out, sauntering along the red carpet. His swagger was back. He grinned, remembering when Nova had sashayed in his body. At set markers, he paused, posed, smiled, waved, then carried on, his target the interviewer to the side of Eastwood Hall’s entrance.

“Oh, Eli, it’s so good to see you’re well.” The platinum blonde beamed, sweeping out her hand to the many cameras trained on him.

“Happy to be here,” he said.

“All are dying to know what you’ve been up to. I’ll admit, your disappearance caused quite a furor.”

He laughed. “A vacation, no more.” He peered into the center drone. “I do believe I owe E-Galactic an exclusive, and two station-secs a five-star dinner. Please, reach out to my agent.”

A splash of burgundy caught his attention. Nova.

He whipped up his head and froze.

Gliding toward him was… Nova? She looked… magnificent . Her gown hugged every delicious inch of her, shoulders bare, a high sweetheart neckline, but the fabric had the appearance of leather. It shimmered like dragon scales from her toes to her cleavage.

His breath caught.

A rushing consumed his hearing.

His heart thundered in his chest.

She smiled at Graham trailing her, then with two fingers, caught the hood and flipped it back, exposing her rich burgundy hair piled on top of her head.

She was a vision in crimson. Against the red carpet, she should have blended in.

She didn’t, not with those amber eyes, the lushness of her deep red lips with her pale-almond complexion, and that outfit, right to the red-metallic, spine-shaped brackets running over the curve of her ass to nape of her neck, forming a choker.

Matching gauntlets adorned her forearms.

“Missed me?” she teased, looping her arm through his.

“Always,” he managed to rasp. “Beautiful, Nova-honey. You’ve surpassed my expectations.”

She flicked a dismissive hand behind her. “Blame him.”

Graham’s smile was tight. “Argued about everything. How did you survive six days with her?”

Eli gazed at her upturned face. “It’s been longer but far too short.”

She beamed.

“I’ll confirm a few things and meet you in the cinema.” Graham hurried off.

“I should feel guilty about being difficult, but that man’s so used to getting his way.” She swept a hand down her body. “Wanted me in purple. Said it was the new black.” She rolled her eyes.

“You’ve eaten?” he asked, ushering her to the next interview marker.

“Noodles. You?”

He nodded and faced a brunette. “Hi, Mindy. This’s Nova.”

Despite the crowds, noise, shouted demands, and flashing lights, Nova didn’t move. She remained poised and smiling, sometimes cuddling his upper arm or whispering an observation.

“And…is this more than friendship?” one interviewer asked, gesturing to Nova.

Her cheeks flushed a peach color. “Too soon to tell.”

He knew what he wanted. More time wouldn’t change that. Lacing his fingers through hers, he twirled her then drew her against him for a quick kiss. Well, that was the plan. He got as far as a twirl with Nova an arm-length away.

“Eli, be a dear and come pose with me.” Cassidy squeezed between them, leaving Nova adrift.

She blinked then circled Cassidy, coming to stand at his right. He looped an arm around her, keeping her close. In a show for everyone to see, he kissed her temple.

“In a bit, Cass.” He gestured with his chin at the last interviewer.

Her pout didn’t ruin her classic beauty. With her deep brown hair pulled to the side, she could’ve charmed a hungry Skrillith. “But—”

“You signed the same contract, Cass. Marketing comes first.” He ushered Nova to the next marker.

“That’s Cassidy,” she hissed, peering past him at the woman. “You didn’t mention she’s in this movie.”

“Plays a spoiled girl.” Like always, but he wouldn’t go into that. “We’re the golden couple, don’t you know?” His tone had a note of resentment to it.

Actors supported each other, and if he said anything, he’d be breaking that unspoken code. Besides, whiners impacted their own reputation more than their intended targets.

And of course, she was seated to the right of him in the cinema. His step faltered, but he pasted on a smile and fulfilled his part of the contract. Smile and wave, boys. But he leaned toward Nova, ensuring their clasped hands were visible to all.

“I know that look,” Graham said, gesturing to a server to hand them bottles of purified water. “There’s no sneaking out before the party.”

“Wasn’t going to,” Eli said, “for about fifteen minutes. Can’t make any promises after that. And could you get us a pot of Lady Grey, please.”

Nova smiled at him like he’d given her a million credits.

Graham huffed and placed the order with the server. “We’ll talk about this later,” he said when the lights dimmed.