Page 29 of Reluctantly Abducted
"Why would you ask that?" he manages, the glow beneath his skin intensifying.
I shrug, turning back to my cooking to give him a moment to compose himself. "Just wondering. You're a really good kisser, that's all."
The compliment has the desired effect, in my peripheral vision, I can see the bioluminescence cascade across his skin in waves. It's fascinating how responsive his body is to emotional stimuli, utterly unable to hide reactions that a human could conceal.
"I, that is, such inquiries are—he stammers, then stops, taking a visible breath. "My personal history is not relevant to the assessment."
"Sure it is," I say lightly, enjoying this glimpse of the flustered scientist beneath the composed exterior. "Cultural exchange, remember? I'm learning about Nereidan romantic customs."
"By asking about my specific experiences?" he counters, focusing intently on the beverage synthesis to avoid looking at me.
"Best way to learn," I say, smiling to myself. "So? Any past lovers I should be jealous of?"
Despite my teasing tone, I find I'm genuinely curious about the answer. There's something about Ry'eth that has gotten under my skin in a way I hadn't expected when I first woke up on this alien ship.
"No," he admits quietly. "There have been... no such arrangements."
His answer catches me off guard. I pause briefly before continuing to flip pancakes. "None? Ever?"
The bioluminescence intensifies as he realizes what he's revealed. "My work has always been my priority," he explains stiffly. "Romantic entanglements would be a distraction from my research."
"So I'm your first kiss?" I ask, my voice softening as the implications sink in.
"Yes," he confirms, still not looking at me. "As I said, such matters have never been a priority."
Something warm blooms in my chest at this revelation. "I'm honored," I tell him, meaning it.
He finally looks up, genuine surprise in his golden eyes. "You are not... amused by my inexperience?"
"Why would I be?" I ask, confused by his assumption. "Everyone has a first. I'm just glad I could be yours."
The luminescence beneath his skin shifts to a softer, steadier glow as he processes my response. I turn my attention back to the pancakes, giving him space to compose himself.
"The beverage is nearly complete," he says after a moment, clearly grateful for the change in subject.
"And the first batch of pancakes is done," I announce, transferring several small, golden circles to a plate. "I'm making them mini-sized so we can dip them instead of cutting them up. More fun that way."
I start on the second batch, dropping small spoonfuls of batter with chocolate chips mixed in. "These ones have chocolate in them. Variety pack."
"You've made these many times before," Ry'eth observes, watching me work.
"My mom used to make them like this when I was a kid," I explain, feeling a twinge of nostalgia. "Before she took the corporate job and started traveling all the time. Sunday mornings were pancake days."
"You maintain this tradition from your childhood," he notes, sounding genuinely interested.
"Not really," I admit, flipping the new batch. "Haven't made these in years, actually. But some things you don't forget."
The synthesizer chimes softly, and Ry'eth pours a pale lavender liquid into two cups. "Here," he says, offering one to me. "This should complement the sweetness of your pancakes."
I accept it with a nod of thanks, then carry our plates to the table, one with the blueberry pancakes, the other with the chocolate chip ones. I set a small container of synthesized maple syrup between them.
"That's maple syrup," I explain as we sit. "Well, synthesized maple syrup. You dip the pancakes in it."
I demonstrate, picking up one of the mini pancakes with my fingers and dunking it halfway into the syrup before popping it into my mouth. The familiar flavor is remarkably authentic for something created by an alien food machine.
"Still got it," I murmur to myself, pleased with how they turned out. "Try one."
Ry'eth follows my example with scientific precision, selecting a blueberry pancake and dipping it carefully in the syrup. His expression shifts subtly as he tastes it, a slight widening of the eyes, a minute lift at the corners of his mouth.
