Page 46 of The Alien in the Archive (Galactic Librarians #1)

46

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“ C ome on… come on …”

There’s a spot on my counter I didn’t notice before tonight, and it just won’t seem to come out. I scrub harder than I should, the cloth catching on the edge. The rest of the cottage is already immaculate—bookshelves dusted, floor swept, couch cushions neatly fluffed—but this fucking spot keeps resisting.

At least I’m thinking about the spot and not tomorrow.

Well…except now.

Now I’m thinking about tomorrow.

It sticks in my head like a splinter, but I force it down, pulling in a shaky breath. I’ve told myself all day, this is just a regular evening. Nothing unusual about it. Just me, alone, in my impossibly tidy house, waiting for my boyfriend to arrive.

I hear him in my head…feel him getting closer.

He’s almost here.

I wipe my hands on a dish towel, forgetting about the spot like it never existed as I hustle across the room. I leave the door unlatched for him and go back to the stove, where I’m stirring together some semblance of dinner—a staple comfort food, mac and cheese. The cottage smells good, like home.

And it gives me something to keep my hands busy.

I don’t turn around when the door creaks open. There’s a soft thud of boots on the floor, then the door shutting again…then a familiar chirp. My lips twitch despite myself.

“Didn’t think you were bringing a plus one,” I chuckle, glancing over my shoulder.

Thorne is standing just inside the doorway, hood pulled back, his hair in long, spiraling silver strands around his shoulders. Ashlan is padding across the floor to wind around my ankles, starting to purr.

“I didn’t have a choice,” Thorne mutters, his voice dry. “He refused to let me leave without him.”

“Well, he needs to get out of the kitchen before I step on him,” I laugh, looking down to shoo him away. He skitters out and leaps onto the couch, where he begins sharpening his claws.

“Stop, Ashlan,” Thorne says. “You’ll ruin it.”

Ashlan continues as if Thorne didn’t say a thing. I can’t bring myself to be angry.

“I figured you’d leave him,” I say, watching as Thorne shrugs off his coat and drapes it over the arm of the couch. “But I’m glad he’s here.”

His gaze settles on me, steady and soft in the low light. “I hoped he might keep you company. In case…well.” He clears his throat, avoiding the words we don’t want to say.

If something happens. If this goes the wrong way.

He doesn’t have to say it for me to feel it.

“That’s not going to happen,” I reply, turning back to the stove. “And your anxiety is extremely loud, so I’m going to need you to keep it down with your thoughts?—”

I’m so distracted by his mind that I don’t even hear him coming up behind me, but I sense his desire when he’s close enough.

His arms are already around me, though, sliding around my waist as he ducks his head against my neck.

“I remember a time not too long ago when I was telling you the same thing,” he murmurs.

I bite my lip, laughing softly. “And I’m pretty sure I learned how to keep my thoughts to myself.”

I feel him prodding at the edges of my consciousness, asking for entry. I bat at him.

“I’m trying to cook,” I laugh.

He takes a step back to lean against the counter, hands behind him. I watch him out of the corner of my eye, admiring his lean form, his broad shoulders, the silver in his eyes. I let him take a peek at my thoughts now , and he smirks.

“What are you making?” he asks.

“Food.”

“It smells good.”

I glance over at him. “It’s just mac and cheese.”

His gaze doesn’t waver. “I didn’t think you cooked.”

“I didn’t think you ate.”

The bond flares with amusement. His head tilts as he smiles. “I didn’t,” he says. “Not until you brought me back to life.”

The words catch me off guard, like they always do.

It’s easy to forget he can ruin me with a sentence.

I don’t trust myself to say anything back, so I just turn off the stove and start dishing food onto two plates. He doesn’t protest when I hand him one, though I notice he’s waiting for me before he sits.

The house is quiet as we eat, save for the scrape of forks and Ashlan’s rumbling purrs. Eventually, the lumivix trots over from the couch to hop into my lap, begging for a bite.

I slip him a noodle .

It can’t hurt, can it?

The mac and cheese disappears faster than I expect, mostly because I’m not paying attention. Thorne isn’t either. He pushes his food around on his plate more than he eats, like he’s trying to pretend for my sake. I know the difference; he’s only humoring me.

“Eat it,” I murmur, nudging his arm with my elbow.

He glances up, silver eyes catching the dim glow of the lamps. “I am.”

“No, you’re staring at it,” I correct. “If you want to prove you’re just like the rest of us, you need to do a better job.”

Thorne smirks, one brow lifting. “Harsh criticism for the man who keeps you warm at night.”

“Eat,” I repeat, but my cheeks flush. The bond between us hums, resonates, carrying everything we’re not saying. It’s there: the nerves we’re both fighting, the way every glance and every touch tonight feels a little more precious.

Thorne sets his fork down with a deliberate clink. “Page.”

I don’t look at him. “What?”

“Stop pretending you’re fine.”

I freeze, the food suddenly heavy on my tongue. I swallow it too fast, my throat tight. “I am fine.”

“Did you forget I could read your mind?” he mutters.

I exhale, long and slow, the fight draining out of me. My fork falls from my fingers with a clink.

“I hate this,” I breathe.

“I know.”

“I just want to…” I pause, searching for something to latch onto. “I want to do something. Something normal.”

Thorne huffs out a laugh. “Nothing about this is normal.”

I push back from the table, the chair scraping against the floor. Thorne watches me, his gaze steady but cautious.

“If nothing about this is normal,” I say, crossing the room to walk toward the bathroom. “I’m going to do what I do when I’m sad. Because that’s what I am. I’m sad and I’m fucking scared and I’m…well, now I’m annoyed.”

He cocks his head at me, watching as I pull my shirt off and toss it on the floor. His inky eyes graze down my torso, to my hips as I start pulling off my pants.

“And you…like to get naked when you’re annoyed?” he says.

“No, I’m having a bath. Are you coming?”