Those dark eyes still shone in the same infuriating manner, as if
lit from within. Those lips still smiled as wide, Xan’s heady scent
still aroused him like an aphrodisiac, and God, that hair! Still
long, still tousled, still streaked with an impossible shade of
blond.
Xan stepped closer, as if the gulf between
them meant nothing. His voice lowered to an intimate level that
Reth still heard in dreams. “Miss me?”
Reth turned to frown over the food,
preoccupied. “Well, you know,” he started, then because he didn’t
know what to add to that, he popped a frozen strawberry into his
mouth and concentrated on the icy chill that made his teeth ache.
With a shrug he hoped looked nonchalant, he added, “I thought you
said you were coming right back.”
“I did come for you,” Xan teased, emphasizing
the word come. When Reth didn’t respond, Xan covered the
hand reaching for another strawberry with his own. His smile
slipped a notch. “I’m here, right?”
Reth sighed. He picked at the berries and
refused to meet Xan’s unnerving gaze. Wasn’t he supposed to be over
this guy already? “I meant—”
“What?” Xan asked. “You have someplace more
private in mind?” Leaning closer, his breath tickling along Reth’s
cheek where faint stubble darkened his skin, Xan lowered his voice
to whisper, “Ask me again, Reth. I’m ready to comeanywhere
you want me to.”
He was tempted, God knew, and the fact that
he wanted to hold this man in his arms again despite the way things
had ended between them the last time made his heart ache. But he
couldn’t blue-ball himself. He needed a man, yes. He wanted
one, thisone, but he wasn’t so desperate that he’d let Xan
walk out on him again. He wasn’t the same starry-eyed cadet he had
been that night all those months ago.
On the table Reth fisted his hand beneath
Xan’s and shook off his touch. “I asked you once,” he said, finally
raising his gaze to meet Xan’s. “You missed your chance.”
With an apologetic shrug, Reth turned and
walked away.
* * * *
He stayed with the captain for the rest of
the evening, unwilling to bow to the emotions that tore him up
inside. Turning Xan down apparently hadn’t worked—Reth was still
attuned to every little thing he said or did. Despite the room full
of people, Xan seemed to perform for only him. When the captain
handed Reth another cocktail and suggested they get to know their
new gunners a bit better, Reth downed the drink and begged off. He
didn’t need to come face to face with Xan again—he’d probably
apologize, then ravish him right there in front of everyone. He
didn’t trust himself around the gunner. And besides, as he
explained—his speech slurring more than he would’ve liked—he had a
ship to steer come oh-five hundred. He had to turn in.
But once he left the party, he didn’t head to
his room. His wayward feet had a mind of their own, and they
carried him down to the simdeck instead. Twice he heard heavy
footsteps ringing off the grated floors behind him; both times he
glanced back to find only his shadow. The second time, his body
swayed as if lying down sounded like a great idea, but the simdeck
was just up ahead. With one hand on the wall to steady himself,
Reth managed to make it the rest of the way.
The simdeck was a simulated reality facility
open to all the crew. With the celebration still going strong in
the ballroom, Reth had the place to himself. As large as the flight
deck three levels above it, the simdeck was segmented into a dozen
private gaming rooms that ranged in size from one player to twenty.
Each room was coded shut—only a viable crew ID card could grant
access for simulated play. Inside Reth’s ID card were a handful of
saved realities. He came here often during a long flight—space
could be a lonely place, and the simdeck provided quick, guiltless,
solitary entertainment. Too many hassles could arise when dating a
crewmember.
Case in point,Reth thought bitterly
as he unhooked his ID card from where it hung on his belt. He
wasn’t even dating Xan, and already things were going to be
strained between them. This would be one long ass mission, Reth
just knewit. His only consolation was that Xan would be
busy with the other gunners. Once the ship was underway, Reth
wouldn’t have a chance to interact with him much.
God willing.
Choosing one of the smaller simrooms, Reth
jammed his ID card into the slot. The green light that indicated
the room was empty blinked, then flipped to a deep red that meant
occupied. Into the number pad below the card slot, Reth typed a
series of numbers—his ID code, a game code, then two separate
passwords that he’d placed on his card to keep anyone from
accessing it. Some of the crewmembers used the simdeck to lounge on
sunny beaches or dance the night away at noisy clubs—whatever form
of R&R they preferred. On Reth’s card, each game was a
different sexual situation, from blowjobs in crowded restrooms to
anal intercourse in a lush park on a cloudless day. In Reth’s
opinion, the simdeck was better than masturbation and safer than
sex.