Page 23 of Until the Stars Fall

I nodded silently. I did know.

It was getting late, and Beck’s eyes were bleary, as if he might fall asleep any minute. I knew what my trouble sleeping was. What was his?

“Thank you. I think I have enough to go on for a bit more, until Eyre brings me the sketches. If y’all think of anything else I need to know, send it my way.”

Eyre picked up the dirty ice cream bowls and gracefully got to her feet. “Anytime! I’ll grab these. See y’all tomorrow.”

“Night,” we chorused.

Summer stood, jerking her thumb toward the bridge. “I’m going to see my lady love on the bridge before I go to bed. G’night!”

Beck yawned and arched his back over a pouf, stretching so wide his shirt lifted over his belly. Somebody needed to get this man longer shirts because I didn’t need to be wanting all of that.

He pulled his shirt down and got up. “C’mon. I’ll walk you home,” he said, leaning toward me with his hands outstretched. I let him pull me to my feet and walked with him to the central elevator.

He pressed the down button. “So Gemma. Do we have an accord?”

I glanced up to see him side-smiling at me.

“I don’t know. You snuck condition one past me. I thought you said you could do without it?”

He belly laughed, pressing a hand to his chest. I’d never seen a man laugh like that, unfettered and uncaring what he looked like. Watching Beck laugh made me laugh.

“Yeah, I decided it was too awesome to give up on. Figured if I snuck it past you, you maybe wouldn’t mind?” He rocked from his heels to his toes and glanced back over either shoulder. A co-conspirator checking for eavesdroppers. “Where are we on the second condition?” he asked quietly. “I’ve been good. I haven’t asked you in almost a whole week.”

The elevator doors opened, and he followed me in, saying nothing further as the elevator descended. It was ridiculous of me to pretend that he hadn’t seen me do magic in the pressure room, ridiculous to push away an offer to quell the one thing I’d never been able to tame myself, especially because it endangered everyone on the ship.

I’d thought I was doing a good job of pushing all my emotions into the corners of myself, thinking that would prevent my magic from exploding out at all the wrong moments. But not only was it not working, as I thought back to my most recent outbursts of power, they were also getting more and more destructive. Until I got to Gaia and had my magic taken away, it might be best to get help controlling it.

“I’ve been thinking about it,” I admitted when the elevator doors opened on my floor. I walked out and pressed my hand against the elevator doors to keep them open. He still stood to the back of the elevator. “You coming?”

He pushed off the back wall and followed me out and around the corner to my door. I fumbled with the key around my neck, trying to get inside my room before anyone overheard us. I held the door open, and he followed me in, shutting the door behind us. I tossed my key on the table on my way to the couch.

He made a soft noise and rubbed at the spot on the table where my key had hit. “Are you being good to my table?” he asked.

“Your table? I thought you built it for me because you gazed into your crystal ball and knew I’d need one?”

He chuckled. “I did. But I didn’t use a crystal ball.” He sat a little ways away on the couch and pursed his lips, studied me for a minute.

“Why are you looking at me in that tone of voice?”

He shrugged. “I was wondering if you’d let me read your palm.”

I made a face that I hoped matched my playful mockery. “Like some Fat City vagrant?”

He scratched his beard, which wasn’t as scruffy looking since he’d trimmed it a couple of days ago, and sat up straighter on the sofa. A little closer. “I probably look like one.” He grabbed a purple throw from the back of the sofa and laid it over his head like a veil.

I snorted. He looked ridiculous, and this was probably just a scheme to hold my hand. But I didn’t call him out on it. Except for his intelligence, he was definitely not the kind of guy I would have ever gone for before. He was less captain of the soccer team and more harum-scarum rock god. Less polished and more real. Maybe that was a good thing.

“Now then,” he said in an approximation of an old woman’s voice, “can I read yer palm, young lady? It’s free today, but only for women with brown eyes.”

“Oh!” I exclaimed. “In that case, a bargain!” I stretched out the hand closest to him.

“Now tell me, child, are you left-handed?”

I smirked. “You’re a terrible palm reader. I’m right-handed.”

“Ah.” He placed my hand carefully on my bent knee and took my right one instead. “We have a skeptic. That’s alright. I’ll win you over, dearie.” He turned my palm up and held it toward the light.

---