Page 26 of Shadows of Stardust

“Sorry. I was just thinking.”

“About the Vas-Greshiran?”

I hide my grimace.

Rhevar and I have only had one short, awkward conversation since our date and disastrous kiss.

Hanging out with him on the boat that day was… fine. Pleasant. Nice.

He seems like a decent enough guy, the conversation stayed surface-level and polite, and I might have even tried to stretch out our “connection” a little longer as camera fodder and proof I’m here for the right reasons, if everything hadn’t gone ass-up with that interrupted makeout.

Even before the kiss—which wasn’t the worst I’ve ever had, but not something I’d wanted or expected—it’s not like there was anythingthere.

It would have been a hell of a lot better if I could have continued pretending like there was.

But Zandrel put a stop to that.

I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it, the way Zandrel swooped in. The way I let him see—again—how angry I was, how fast those emotions got the better of me.

I could hardly look at Rhevar after it, couldn’t face the inevitable questions.

Besides, he deserves better than to be dragged into it.

“No,” I mutter. “We, uh, won’t be seeing each other again.”

Juni lowers the sunshades she’s wearing and shoots me a concerned glance. “What happened? He seemed great.”

“He was. I just… we weren’t… just not a match, you know?”

Her brow furrows even further, and she glances up and down the beach. There are no cams nearby, but she lowers her voice and leans closer.

“And why does that matter?”

“Because we’re… supposed to be finding love?” The words sound hollow and false even to my ears, and Juni just scoffs.

“Roslyn,” she drawls. “Come on, don’t get soft on me now. We are not here to find love. We are here to get famous.”

A wry smile tugs at the corners of my lips. “Noted.”

“And part of getting famous means putting on a good show for the cameras. Particularly with a very hot, very eligible Vas-Greshiran.” She huffs an exasperated breath and settles back into her lounger. “But if you really don’t like him, we can find you someone else.”

“Let’s start with you,” I say quickly. “Anyone caught your eye?”

Another sigh, this one more dreamy than irritated. “Too many someones.”

“So let’s narrow it down.”

She thinks for a moment. “I know you’ve got hangups with Jurvians, but have youseenTev?”

We both glance to where a few of the male contestants are amusing themselves with a game of something that vaguely resembles human soccer in the sand, though this version also includes full-body tackles. I have to admit, it’s a pretty mouth-watering display of muscles and athleticism, especially when I spot the Jurvian in question.

Tall, broad, with rippling muscles covering his firm abdomen and wide shoulders. Glossy black hair tousled tocareless perfection. A jawline sharp enough to cut diamonds. The iridescence in his skin even more striking in the bright afternoon sunlight.

It’s not hard to see the appeal.

I mean, I spent six months on Jurva with the Sol Alliance learning how to fly alongside Jurvian pilots, and almost seven years after that running tandem missions with their military. It made for plenty of time tofraternizewith our allies, so I’m not one to talk when it comes to resisting a flyboy’s charms.

Like he can sense us staring, Tev pauses right in the middle of the field of play, raising a hand to wave to Juni.

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