Page 43 of Alien Wants A Wife

“You know you sound like Killan when you’re grumpy?”

My mouth drops open. “Do not say such horrible things!”

Another laugh, and I cannot stop from straightening, proud of myself. She has not laughed so much the entire time I have known her. Hopefully, her reaction now is because she is feeling comfortable and relaxed in my presence. Hopefully, it is a good sign.

“Tell me.” She squeezes my hand. “Please.”

I grumble more, fresh humiliation burning a hole through my chest. “Chloe said that I amin star lovewith you but that wasa bad thing because Humans do not trustin star love.It means I am desperate and fake.”

“What’s ‘in star love’?”

“In star love,” I repeat slowly. “That is what she called it.”

“In star? In star?” Harlee repeats. “Oh, God, do you mean instant love?”

“Yes.” I bow my head.

“Wait? You can’t be in love with me already, Roan. We hardly know each other.”

“I know I want to be your Mate. I know I want you to stay with me forever.”

“Oh.”

Silence fills the air around us, harsh and heavy, until I want to run out of the room. Or smash the cameras. Yes, I want to smash all the cameras so that John Smith cannot use the footage of this moment to share my humiliation with all the known universe.

“I still don’t think that means you’re in love with me, Roan. I think it means you’re lonely.” She reaches out, the fingers of her free hand brushing against my chest. Then she traces her way down one arm until she can hold another of my hands, entwining our fingers.

I purse my lips. Chloe was right: Harlee does think my feelings are fake.

“Sweetheart—”

I can practically hear her struggling with what to say next.

“I am tired.” Pulling free of Harlee’s hold, I lie down, my back to her, again.

“Right.”

More silence.

Minutes tick by before Harlee lies down, too. She slips toward me, toward the lower indentation in the mattress, then turns around so we are back-to-back.

“Goodnight, Roan. I hope… I hope…” But she sighs and never finishes her sentence.

Chapter Sixteen

Harlee

“Harlee? Harlee?” There’s a softbang,followed by Lydia swearing.

Bleary-eyed, I sit up. The room is dark, although I guess that doesn’t mean it’s still nighttime. Since Roan’s house is mainly underground, there are no windows and no natural sunlight.

A dark shape is standing at the foot of the bed, but when she sees me, Lydia fumbles her way around to my side. She sits, groping for me in the darkness. Our hands touch, and she grasps my fingers in a chokehold.

“Are you alright?” I whisper, trying not to wake a still-sleeping Roan beside me.

I feel, rather than see, Lydia nod. Then, apparently realizing just how dark it is, she whispers. “Yes. I was worried about you, so I snuck in to check.”

“I meant to come back—” I start to say, which is true—when I’d realized Roan didn’t actually have a spare bedroom. But I’d somehow gotten so caught up in him that I’d forgotten about Lydia.

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