Page 28 of Faithless
“Mornin’, sunshine,” I greeted.
“Hm?” He lifted his head and squinted one eye at me. “Aw, damn it.”
“What?”
“It’s nothin’,” he croaked, his voice rough and groggy with sleep.
I pushed back my blanket and began to slide from the bed. “Sorry I’m not the chick you were dreaming about.” The words came out harsher than I intended.
Torr groaned, scrubbing his palms down his face. “S’not that, Ror.”
“I’m kidding.” I walked around the bed, grabbing my leathers and a fresh shirt.
“I was gonna move to the floor after you fell asleep,” he said, lacing his hands behind his head so that his biceps and the wide expanse of his chest were on display. “But I guess I conked out before that happened.”
“Why? I told you the bed was fine.” I went to the vanity just outside the bathroom and pulled a brush through my hair, trying to distract myself from the little stab of rejection in my chest.
“Just to give you some space. Make you more comfortable.”
I could almost believe the sweet sentiment in his words. Torr was masterful at letting a girl down easy.
“Well, all turned out fine.” He must not have realized he was practically spooning me moments ago, so I wasn’t about to mention it. “You sleep well?”
In the mirror, I watched Torr bring one hand down to rest on his chest. “Yeah, better than I thought I would. Guess it was a pretty grueling day. You?”
“Yeah, same. You ready to meet this mysterious first contact?”
“Yeah, let me get a quick shower in.”
He pushed back the cover and I busied myself with my toiletries as he gathered up some clothes, wearing nothing but his snug boxer briefs. I kept avoiding eye contact as he approached me, all the way until he squeezed into the tiny bathroom and shut the door. Then I tilted my head back and let out a long sigh before looking at myself in the mirror again.
“Get a grip, bitch,” I told my reflection. “You’re just making this harder on yourself.”
I got dressed while Torr showered, then after he was decent, we headed down the rickety stairs together.
“Did the all-knowing Astarte tell you anything this morning?” he asked as we entered the main room with the bar and tables.
“Nope. Not a peep.” The room was even emptier than last night, with only the bartender, one grizzled older man sitting at the bar, and one table occupied by a group of three men.
“Want to take our chances with breakfast?” I asked Torr.
“Hell yeah, I’m starving.”
He grabbed us a table while I went up to the bartender. The breakfast selection was simple but plentiful. Eggs, sausage, toast, and country potatoes for five Territory Credits, or TCs as they were most often called.
TCs were a relatively new currency, only put out into circulation about ten years ago. Six of the most stable allied territories came together and forged an agreement to make TCs their de-facto currency. This was to encourage more trade between the territories and make it easier for their traveling citizens to buy and sell goods across each other’s borders. Many of the smaller territories and neutral zones had also adopted TCs for everyday use.
The days of bartering goods and services were something my parents’ generation had been accustomed to for years, so a standardized currency had received some pushback from them. Especially Gunner, who prided himself in negotiating good deals.
“You can keep the eggs, my homie’s chickens lay much better ones,” I could imagine him saying with that charming grin. “And I’ll give you two TCs for the rest of the spread, what do you say?”
I went to sit across from Torr at a table once I put our food order in. For a moment, we just stared at each other, saying nothing.
“So now what?” My anxious ass couldn’t help but break the silence first.
Torr shrugged, propping his elbow on the table and then resting his cheek on his fist. “Guess we wait. We didn’t get a description or a code word or anything, right?”
I leaned back while the bartender came over and dropped a pot of coffee and two mugs on the table, waiting until she left to speak. “Nope. We are well-equipped spies for this mission, clearly.”
