Page 11 of Alien Wants A Wife

Killan growls. Actually growls. Like a grumpy old bear.

“Technically, this is Killan’s house,” Roan corrects. “I live next door, and Sorin lives at the southernmost edge of our farm.”

“Right…” Lydia glances around the room, her breathing ragged. “I’m having a little trouble processing everything that’s happening.”

“What would you like me to explain?” Roan asks, the perfect host. “Our house? Our farm?” He drags something akin to a computer tablet closer to him and touches the screen to activatethe power. “Our planet? Something else?” He hovers one hand over the screen, prepared to use the tablet to help with any explanations Lydia requires.

“Umm…” She clears her throat.

Releasing Lydia, I run shaky, sweaty hands down my cocktail dress, hunting for the pocket where I’d stashed my brochure.

At almost the same time, another man—anotheralien!—stumbles down the last few stairs. Catching himself on the banister, he straightens, and the green of his scales drains slowly away, to be replaced by a pretty teal. He looks beseechingly at the two men, and only when he’s examined the entire rest of the kitchen, does he let his gaze fall on Lydia and me.

“Akh…”

“This is Sorin,” Roan offers an introduction. “My other brother.”

“How come I can understand what you’re saying?” Lydia asks, pointing at Roan’s mouth. “Your lips don’t match your words, but I can definitely understand you.”

“We all have translators.” Roan touches the back of his neck, indicating a spot slightly behind one ear.

Lydia copies the movement, all eyes but mine on her. I take the opportunity to straighten the wrinkles in the glossy paper I’m hiding under the table and to skim the first few lines of text:

What To Do When You Find Out Aliens Are Real

Step 1: Don’t panic.

Well, that’s unhelpful. Why aren’t there instructions on how not to panic?! Deep breaths and… and… And I don’t know! I suddenly can’t remember any of the advice from the YouTube tutorials I’ve watched on meditation and calming the mind.

I’d have been better off watchingE.Tand taking notes as though it were a documentary. Becausealiens are frickin’ real!

“… three brothers,” Lydia says, and I realize the conversation moved on while I was reading and panicking. “And you’re all hoping to get hitched?” Her voice wobbles.

“That does not translate.” Apparently Roan is their designated spokesperson, because the other two remain silent. “Hitched? With ropes?” He frowns.

“No, hitched as in to get married. Fall in love. Be happy forever after.”

“Oh, yes.” Roan nods enthusiastically.

A nod for him must mean the same as it does for us.

“And you applied for LOVE GALAXY?” Lydia asks.

Roan nods again, then glares at his brothers until they also nod—with a lot less enthusiasm.

“Because you want to date us?” Lydia points between her and me. “Humans?”

“You want to know what day it is?” Roan blinks, confused, again.

“What? No. I think we’re getting lost in translation.” She almost smiles. Almost. Except that her smile is actually more of a grimace. A smile-slash-grimace. A painful smile.

My hands are shaking so much, I can hear the brochure crinkling. Peeking under the table, I read further.

Step 2: Watch for signs of aggression

These can take many forms. If you feel threatened, then you probably are being threatened.

Threatened?Threatened?!I’m going to panic again, so I reread step one over and over until I’m breathing deeplyenough that my lungs actually fill with air, and some of my lightheadedness recedes.

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