“You’re welcome.” I dragged a chair next to the bed and settled into it. “Rest.”
Despite his claim he didn’t sleep like us humans did, Adri’s eyes drifted shut within minutes.
There was something soothing about watching him rest. He had one arm on top of the duvet, a soft blue glow—a circuitry pattern—brightening and dimming in sync with his breathing. It was mesmerizing.
Adri still had his eyes closed when I jerked awake about an hour later with a crick in my neck and vague memories of vivid, surreal dreams that might not have been dreams at all. Adri really was a prince, and someone—that little shit from IT—had tried to sabotage Layla’s charity ball.
And after all that, I still wanted to kiss Adri again.
Unwilling to disturb him, I slipped onto the balcony, performed some quick stretches, and checked my phone with bleary eyes in case I’d missed any messages. None. I typed one to Layla, not wanting to disturb Rick. She replied with, “Levels are falling. So far, so good.”
Listening to the sounds of the city, I breathed in the fresh air and waited for Adri to wake up. I didn’t have to wait long before the duvet rustled behind me.
“How are you feeling?” I asked when he joined me on the balcony.
“Much better. Thank you.”
“Do you need to go to the Tech Hub?”
He shook his head. “Rick briefed me already. There’s nothing we can do until the wall stabilizes.”
That meant it was time for us to talk, though I felt hesitant to say it. I wanted to stay out here, standing side by side on his balcony, looking out on the path where he’d invited me up to his room. I reached out and covered his hand with mine, imagining the pulsating circuitry beneath his skin. Sometimes words only ruined things.
Adri seemed content to indulge me. Or maybe he wasn’t eager to talk, either, as we stared out at the trees for a long time, holding hands.
A chilly breeze rippled across Adri’s tunic, drawing my attention to his bare legs—the way the tendrils intertwined and tapered.
“Our people, our ancestors, did their best to assume human form while maintaining our own identity. Clothes they could get behind. They drew the line at shoes or learning to walk. You won’t often see any Niren in trousers. Skirts are much more comfortable and versatile.”
Rest had done him good. He sounded much more confident. Less vulnerable. I nodded. “I might have done some reading. Online. I was curious.” Then I blushed as I realized how that sounded. “Not…”
Adri laughed. “Nothing wrong with that. It pays to be prepared.”
“True.” I smiled. “But there’s fun in discovering, too.”
Shit. Were we flirting? Flirting with a prince had to be a worse idea than my ill-thought-through month of online dating. But I had a feeling that if I didn’t just go with it, I’d regret it for the rest of my life. I took a breath and looked him straight in the eyes. “I know we were meant to talk, but I really want to kiss?—”
Adri swallowed my words as he pulled me to him and claimed my mouth in a slow and sweeping kiss, as if we had allthe time in the world. The faint buzz of his lips against mine made me feel alive, and I needed more. I chased his tongue into the heat of his mouth, little fizzles of static tingling along the edges with every touch, lick, and swipe.
I melted into Adri, chest against chest, our hearts thumping different beats—syncopated—until that one matching count where we clicked and found our rhythm. Time fell away between our breaths, our gasps, the soft breeze, and chirping birds.
When we broke apart, those sounds still lingered as we clung to each other—Adri hovering and me on my toes.
He leaned forward and rested his forehead against mine. “I needed that.”
“Yes.” I shivered, need settling in my belly. I didn’t want this to stop. “D’you want to fuck me?”
“I don’t…”
For a moment, I thought he was going to send me away, but then he sighed.
“I wasn’t prepared for this. I have no supplies.”
Pressing my lips together, I breathed slowly through my nose. I would not laugh this time. Not again. “My research didn’t extend to sex. Anything I should know?” Like what supplies he was talking about.
“We don’t do fluids. That includes sperm.” The flat tone of his voice resembled a public info broadcast. “We do emit energy. And while procreation requiresconsciousconsent from both parties, unintended absorption can manifest as human STIs. But human condoms provide appropriate protection.”
My brain was still stuck on the no sperm part, so the urge to laugh was still strong, but I pushed it down and whispered, “Good thing we’re in a hotel, then.” And I was pretty sure I knew where that vending machine was. Not that I wanted to leave the room.
