Page 38 of Eat My Moon Dust

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He hummed in agreement. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear oils, Hunar.Sachem?”

Hunar’s tendrils slithered behind his back, a sign of embarrassment or submission. He stalled, not sure what to say or how to act. I slipped my hand into the open side of his tabard and gripped his waist. He glanced at me, then at the floor, and leaned in after a heartbeat, putting a hand around my shoulder.

“Yes! It’s my favorite. Smells like cardamom back home,” I agreed. I looked up at Hunar with a misty, lovey dovey look. “And the gold sheen compliments his eyes so much, don’t you think?”

Zufi’s mane hissed as if he were laughing. “So it does. Well, it’s nice to see you bring out the best in him, Miss Tinsley. I’m looking forward to his full brilliance when it returns. Soon, I hope?”

My voice rose an octave out of nervousness as I picked up my bag and slung it over my shoulder. “Mhm! Totally. Honey, do you have time to walk me out?”

I practically pulled the poor man, which was a feat, considering our height difference. We both nodded coldly to Zufi as we passed, and I motioned to Piro.

“Hey, Tin!” he said. “And…syali?”

I dragged him down by the collar and whispered with desperation.“Go entertain Zufi. Go go go.”

He jumped up with wide eyes, saluted, then bounded away.“Got it!Oh, hey, Ambassador! I didn’t know you were visiting!”

That taken care of, I pushed Hunar out the hangar doors and around the corner. He collapsed against the wall, shoulders slumped, tendrils hanging slack.“Chudthi,”he breathed. “I wasn’t expecting him. I should have fucking known–”

I opened my bag with shaking hands as we both fought to catch our breath. My brow creased as I withdrew the pairof panties wrapped in a towel from its deep pocket. I hadn't forgotten about it, but I thought with how lunch went, that I didn’t need to give it to him after all. Seeing Zufi though made my blood boil with anger and Hunar’s freeze with fear. As terrified as I was, as much of a disaster as it could be, I needed to give him the option. That much was crystal clear.

“Hey, Hunar?”

“What?” He sounded agitated now, impatient. I winced inwardly, licked my dry lips, and squeezed my eyes shut.

“I made this for you. Wow, that soundswayworse when I say it out loud, but it’s true. I’m not sure if you want it, or if it’ll make you mad, um… I-I just want to help, and this is the best thing I could come up with. So just let me know if it helps and I can give you more. But it’s up to you. You can choose what to do with it.”

Trembling, I held out the sealed panties, afraid to look at Hunar’s face. I watched his hands as he took it with hesitation, slipping the towel aside. His breath hitched.

“Tinsley–”

My voice squeaked as I interrupted him. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Then I turned on my heel and power walked away.

14

?HUNAR?

After Tinsley gave me her gift, I wrapped it up tight, shoved it in my bag, and slammed the door on my locker. Then I paused, hand on the latch, staring a hole through the red metal.

Had Tinsley just given me her underwear?

I couldn’t be sure since the package was vacu-sealed, but there was a trace of something on the outside where she’d handled it afterwards. As I’d pushed aside her towel to touch the plas, my sensitive palm had picked up something mouthwatering…

Fuck.It had to be underwear.

Right?

I was torn between annoyance and unhealthy curiosity. Tinsley had always been a thorn in my side, breezing in, making demands, distracting people while we were trying to get work done on a deadline. She’d royally fucked us over by improvising our relationship, and now I was stuck betweenKrismisand Zufi’s pursuit clause.

But I wasn’t totally impartial either. Tinsley had slipped her palms across my bare arm and back… I might have been taking coil withdrawal meds, but that didn’t mean I’d burned off my fucking sensory buds. She tasted like hard work and bright, fizzy zeal. She used plain soap and made things with her hands. They were covered in traces of mud, plas, adhesives… And they weren’t soft. She had callouses, long, thin scars, and even an old burn on her forearm that had healed into a smooth, smoky patch of dark skin. She was a pain in the ass, yeah, but maybe that dogged determination was actually her super power. And maybe I was starting t–

“Everything alright?” Bajora asked. I jumped, my tendrils flaring.

“Yeah, fine,” I said too quickly.

Bajora’s handsome mane drifted towards the lockers, a perplexed curl in their tips. I crossed my arms and blocked the vent. Bajora was keener than most shilpakaari men. Like a bloodhound. It’s what made him such a good culinary engineer.