Page 90 of Shadows of Stardust

Whatever it was, he seemed just fine with letting this be a non-issue after we talked it out.

Besides, it’s not like this could… go anywhere.

It’s not really a surprise that the Aux keeps its members from forming attachments, and maybe that’s a good thing for us.

We can write this off as nothing more than physical. We can remember where we stand with each other and not let this be weird.

Now if I could only get sleep-Zan on the same page.

One more futile escape attempt is met with a shifting of his broad, muscular body, with two strong arms wrapped around me, with a deep rumble of pleasure as he buries his face in my hair and inhales.

And maybe I’m just touch-starved after going so long without any kind of companionship, but damn it anyway, I like it. I like the feeling of being wrapped up in him. I like Zan sleepy and affectionate. I like the way the morning sun glints off all that plated armor and illuminates the graceful sweep of his horns, the messy scruff of his hair.

I like it so much that I almost forget.

Forget that we need distance. Forget that—even in the face of all the other monumentally stupid decisions I’ve made since I’ve been here—this might actually be the stupidest thing I’ve done.

If I give into temptation and melt into him, shift just a little so my lips could find his, maybe take my own indulgent sniff to see what he smells like in the morning when he’s cozy and dreaming and post-earth-shattering-hookup, I’d be a certified idiot.

So I don’t. I finally manage to wrestle myself away, but end up waking him in the process.

And even then, I’m nearly lost.

Because in those first few seconds, Zan must forget, too.

His deep black eyes flicker open, silver strands catching the morning light and making them even more breathtaking than usual.

Then he smiles.

Slow and satisfied and just a little cocky, like he’s oh so pleased with himself to have ended up here, in my bed, with me in his arms.

And holy hell, that look on him is dangerous.

Even if it only takes a few moments for him to realize, remember, come to his damn senses.

Body stiffening against mine, eyes widening, mouth falling open on a softly gasped inhale, Zan moves quickly away.

He clears his throat as he sits up, and the awkward tension in the room is thick enough to slice through with a knife.

I hate it.

As soon as the moment slips away, something deep and unhinged in me wants to yank it back. I want to turn back time, sink back into him, pretend.

But I can’t let myself go there. Just because we needed to let off some steam and indulge in the sexual tension that’s been simmering between us doesn’t give us permission to forget.

We’re both here for a reason, we’re using each other to get what we want, and just because last night’s stunt might have gone a long way toward fooling the cameras, foolingourselveswould be the height of stupidity.

“I…” Zan starts. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to… I shouldn’t have—”

“Don’t worry about it.” I vault myself out of bed and head toward the bathroom. “Bed’s much more comfortable, yeah?”

Zan murmurs something that might be an answer, but I’m already closing the door behind me.

By the time I clean up and get ready for the day, he’s vacated the room, and I quickly dress before stepping out into the living space.

Zan’s not there.

It takes me a few seconds and a tight, unreasonable pinch of irritation that he left without me before I catch sight of him.