Page 20 of Bound By Stars
“Step one: check for responsiveness.”
I grab Jupiter’s shoulders and jostle him, but he doesn’t respond. “Come on, wake up.”
“Step two: check for breathing and pulse.”
I press two fingers to the side of his neck, searching for his heartbeat. “I can’t find a pulse!”
“Step three: call for emergency services.”
I already tried that. “Next step, ILSA!”
“Step four: place your hands on the center of his chest. Keep your elbows locked and pump thirty compressions.”
I count out loud. When I finish, he’s still lifeless. “What now?”
“Tilt his chin back, place your mouth over his, and blow until his chest rises.”
I stare at his parted lips. “Is that really necessary?”
“Mouth to mouth is optional.”
“Great. Next step!”
“Check for breathing and pulse again and then do another round of thirty compressions.”
I place two fingers on his neck.
He coughs, grabbing my hand and curling toward me onto his side, sucking in air. Eyes clenched shut.
“Jupiter. Can you hear me?” I brush away the pale hair that’s fallen across his eyes. As he opens them, it immediately feels too intimate. I slide away, pulling my hand free.
He heaves in deep, gulping breaths, unbuttoning the collar of his shirt and rolling onto his back, blinking slowly. Gasps turn to steady panting, and he runs a hand over his face. He angles his head to peer up at me through long eyelashes, and I’m suddenly aware of how narrow the hall between us is, how closely I’m watching him.
His voice is hoarse.“Are all Earthers this ruthless?”
“Are all Elysians this brainless?”
I’m braced for a fight, but his mouth curves into a full grin, showing off his perfectly straight teeth and accentuating his dimples.
Of course he has dimples.
“Probably.” He laughs, propping himself against the opposite wall.
My chest rises and falls heavily. Who knew saving someone’s life was so exhausting? “Why the hell”—I pause for another breath—“did you shut yourself in an airlock?”
“I didn’t do it on purpose.” He tugs at his collar again.
“So they teach Mars kids the steps of using an airlock but skip the basics like ‘airlock dangerous.’”
He braces himself against the wall to stand. “You’re pretty judgmental for someone who just tried to kill me.”
“I would have opened the door if you didn’t start mashing random buttons and sealing yourself in.” I get to my feet, facing him eye to eye. There’s no way I’m going to let him literally look down on me.
“Took your sweet time about it.” He smooths the front of his shirt.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” I widen my eyes and clasp my hands together in the most dramatic show of fake sympathy possible. “You’re probably used to people hopping into action at your every whim.”
“Hardly.”
