Page 63 of Alien Wants A Wife

I draw in a deep breath. Never have I wanted to hit Killan as much as I do in this moment, and he has not even done anything wrong. One small part of my brain remains rational—he has not done anything wrong. This temper flare has everything to do with my feelings for Harlee and nothing to do with my brother.

In silence, Lydia and I pass the two lakes and make the short walk through the tunnel that leads to the arboretum.

I search for something to say, something I can tell Lydia, that will banish the quiet hanging over us like a weight, but nothing comes to mind. Conversation with Harlee feels natural and easy in comparison. Impossible that Harlee and I could ever run out of things to say to each other.

“Sooo…” Lydia drags the word, head tipped back as she stares up at the trees. Maybe she is as lost for words as I am. Maybe she is uninterested. “What exactly do you like best about them?”

“I watched my parents plant every single tree, and then I watched each tree grow, from seedlings into adults.” I wave at the forest before us, all encompassing. “They are my friends.”

“Dude, that sounds so lonely.”

I shift from foot to foot, uncomfortable sharing this part of myself with the Female who yelled at me last night, calling me selfish for loving Harlee.

“Sooo…” she continues. “Do you, like, have a favorite tree? One in particular?”

Yes.But how can I tell her it is my favorite because that is where Harlee and I hid from the cameras, stroking each other into pleasure. “Akh…” I take a hesitant step forward.`

“No further!” John Smith snaps, his voice issuing from the camera clipped to the overhead balcony.

“Why not?” Lydia asks, but she mumbles her question, evidently angry at being told what to do but too anxious to put up any real fight.

“Because there are no cameras among the trees,” I answer in John Smith’s stead. “He cannot record us if we enter the arboretum proper.”

“Exactly,” John Smith barks. “Pick another location, Roan.”

“But this is my favorite?—”

“Lie, for all I care. You’re not taking Lydia into the trees.”

Harlee

“Is the drying cave your favorite place?” I ask Killan, glancing at the conveyer-style table and the rather shabby freestanding cupboard.

He gives me awhat do you thinkexpression, which is unsurprisingly similar to hisI’m in a crap moodexpression. Just a few moments ago, he’d been bragging about how great his algae is. Now, he looks like he’s in a waking nightmare, a muscle in his cheek twitching.

“No. Right.” I scruff the toe of my shoe against the rock floor.

It’s unnaturally smooth rock, for a cave. The walls are, too. Along with the lack of stalactites, I’m guessing this cave isartificial, carved from the rock with the same machinery that made the tunnels and the giant hole in the ceiling of the forest cavern. Not that I’ve spent much time underground to be a good judge of these matters.

“I think…” I lean forward so I can see the screen of the tablet he’s holding. It’s still displaying our latest task, #SharingIsCaring. “We should start the task now?” I don’t want to push him when he’s clearly not happy. But I also don’t want to be left standing here for the rest of the day. Especially not now Roan and Lydia have left.

I’m not jealous—of either Roan or Lydia. But I desperately want to know what Roan’s showing her. If I could’ve been a third wheel on their date, I’d’ve snapped up the chance.

“If you can think of somewhere you’d like to share—” I begin, keeping my voice unthreatening, but Killan interrupts.

“Come.” Without waiting to see if I’m following, he strides down the tunnel, back the way we’d come.

I hesitate for a second, then dump my armful of dried-algae-slash-pillow-stuffing on the table, planning to come back for it after the task is complete. Then I run after him.

Killan doesn’t pause and he doesn’t slow until he’s standing before the first lake, the ‘seed lake’, he’d called it. The one where the baby algae lives before being disseminated to the larger cultivation lakes.

I stumble to a halt. I might be nearly six feet, but keeping up with Killan is an impossible task. Except for now, when he’s staring at the seed lake like he’s never seen it before in his entire life.

I follow his line of sight, searching for whatever it is that’s caught his attention. But I don’t understand. Everything is just the same as when we were here half an hour ago. Absolutely breathtaking but surely not responsible for Killan’s suddenly foul mood.

“Umm…” I press my hands to my hips, missing Roan with every passing second. He’d know what’s gotten into Killan, and he certainly wouldn’t leave me standing here in silence, like a fool trying to guess. “This is your favorite spot because it was the first lake of your farm?”

He turns around to face the wall, next to where another ladder reaches down from the balcony platform overhead.

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