Page 26 of All or Nothing
They chatted for a time, trading jokes about space travel and government agencies, before Derris said he wanted to tell me something in private before he cut the call and got back to preparing the evening meal for his mate. I excused myself and went back to my bedroom.
“She’s delightful, Xoll,” Derris grinned once I was alone once more. “I like her a lot better for you than Verilla.”
Pursing my lips, I considered what he might mean by that. “Better for me how?” I asked, uncertain as to what he meant.
He cocked his eyebrow at me. “As a potential mate, of course.”
I sputtered, shocked. “I’m not trying tomateher!” I cried, clutching at the front of my black shirt. “I know that was why I went to Quellor, but that’s not why I helped. I would never—”
He held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Easy, Xoll,” he said. “I didn’t mean it like that. I only meant I think she would make a good one. She seems relaxed and easy-going, like she would help you with your anxiety. How have your attacks been since you met her?”
Now that he’d mentioned it, I hadn’t had any major attacks since she’d come tumbling out of that crate after Uraka. Derris must have seen as much on my face.
“After Verilla, I should hope it would be obvious you need someone less severe, someone who will be kind and supportive, and I think Joss seems like that type of person. And she is even lovely, despite not being billieuan. But Xollen,” he warned, his chin tucking in and his tone going hard with warning, “you need to treat her well. No snapping at her, no jumping down her throat. If you hurt her I’ll rip your horns right off your head and shove them up your ass.”
Sputtering, I reared back. “Derris! I thought you were supposed to be my friend!”
He shrugged. “Sometimes the best thing a friend can do is beat some sense into you, and I know you, Xoll—you’ll push her away rather than risk getting too close and getting hurt. Which I understand, I’ve met your parents, but you can’t do that forever, my friend. Eventually, you’ll have pushed everyone away and made yourself lonely and miserable, and I don’t want that for you. Do you hear me?”
I nodded, my eyes sliding down to my hands. “You know, she said earlier that my parents are bullies,” I blurted, my voice raspy to my own ears. “She said that they don’t treat me right.”
Derris snorted. “I’ve been saying this for years, but now you listen to it?” His tone softened. “That makes me even more certain that she would be good for you. I think it’s proof that she cares about you, that she understands the kind of person you are. So don’t go screwing this up for yourself—I mean it. Give her a chance, Xoll.”
I offered him a weak smile, hoping I could do as he said. I’d already snapped at her a few times now, though I didn’t want to admit that to my old friend. But she hadn’t walked out on me, and had even managed to stay calm and kind to me. I’d known that I found her physically attractive, the allure of her sweet face and delicious curves throbbing through me anytime we were close together, any time our conversations turned deep and emotional or light and fun, but I hadn’t yet considered that I might court her, that I might one day join my life to hers in the beauty of matehood. I tried to picture it, picture a lifetime of her smiles and easy laughter, of her silly jokes and gentle teasing, and it made me warm and soft in a way that scared me.
Immediately, all the reasons not to roared through my mind. I might be labeled a deviant, since humans were from a primitive planet people might assume she was a lower lifeform. My parents would completely disown me, publicly shaming me and stripping me of my name. Every one of my friends and business connections outside of Derris would abandon me. I might never have children naturally with a non-billieuan mate. The government might not even sanction such a union, given that the human homeworld was locked away in restricted space. We might be persecuted, hunted. It would be a difficult life, and I couldn’t help but imagine that she would grow to resent me for my part in her hardship. How could she not, when being alone would have granted her more peace? Or even if no one challenged our relationship, who was to say that she wouldn’t tire of me? That she wouldn’t also get tired of dealing with my moods and my anxiety attacks?
Everyone else had.
I told Derris none of this, only promising weakly that I would behave myself, and that I would keep him up to date on our progress with the move. I disconnected the call and sat back against my chair, letting my head fall back to the top of the backrest, desperately swallowing down the bitterness threatening to choke me.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Temper Tantrums
JOSS
ALL TOLD, the stuff that Xollen sold brought in a truly staggering 18,000 credits—enough to pay off the fines almost twice over. Most of it had been jewelry and designer clothes, but the furniture he didn’t want to have to squeeze into a government dorm also brought in a lot of cash, as did some of his art collection. Not his personal paintings—he didn’t want to sell those, and I respected that, not everyone wanted to sell off all their art. But there were several people who offered to buy something on the spot when they picked up the other item they’d paid for, and if nothing else I think that that made Xoll feel a little better about the situation—even if it was like how throwing a glass of water on a bonfire didtechnicallyhelp put it out.
Once things started disappearing from the apartment, Xollen’s mood got a lot more unpredictable. He’d go from being clinging and sweet one minute to a total brat the next, making me want to scream and walk out. In those moments, I was tempted to figure out where Uraka and Djelani were living—I knew they were somewhere in Escheva, and I had Uraka’s comm channel number to call her if I hit my absolute limit. When Xollen got especially pissy I missed Uraka’s overbearing affection and giant muscles awholelot.
If felt like he was picking fights with me on purpose, and that just confused the hell out of me. Why did he feel the need to turn on me like that? We were supposed to be a team, working together on Project Xollen, but when I tried to gently coax him towards the more practical course of action he acted like I was trying to burn his whole life to the ground and then take a shit in the ashes.
The only reason I hadn’t actually abandoned him was those glimpses of the softer person beneath, the one who reached for my hand and wound his tail around my leg when he started having an anxiety attack. The male who insisted on making all of my meals for me and making sure I never went too long without eating because he wanted to take care of me. The Xollen who smiled at me like I was the sun in his sky, his eyes swirling and sweet. I couldn’t leave the grouchy bitch when he spent a good chunk of the extra money he’d earned from selling his stuff on a fancy wristcom and several new shoes for me, just because he’d wanted to thank me for my hard work in helping him.
“I couldn’t have done it without you, Joss,” he’d told me softly, helping me fit the wristcom onto me. “You deserve only the best.” Once he’d latched the accessory to my arm his hand had lingered, his long fingers trailing over the delicate skin at the inside of my wrist and making me shiver. “I don’t think I can ever thank you properly for all the ways you’ve helped me when you didn’t have to.”
My heart had melted into a mushy pile of goo at that, and I’d been sure that he would try to kiss me then. He’d leaned in closer, his pouty lips parting the littlest bit and the swirling of his purple eyes going wild as his pale blue pupil went wide. I’d leaned in too, my pulse throbbing all through my body and my skin tingling with anticipation as his gaze had locked on my mouth. But he hadn’t kissed me, and now he was being a dick.
“Have you seen my plum Heverra?” he called from his wing of the penthouse. I closed my eyes in frustration, trying to keep my annoyance from my voice when I responded, hauling myself up off the couch in the living room and walking towards his room like a sane person instead of continuing to shout from several rooms away.
“The one with the green stripes?” I called back.
“Yes, that one!” He popped his head out of his room, his handsome face pinched with annoyance. “I can’t find it anywhere, do you have it?”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “No, we sold that one. Like a week ago, now.”
His brows slammed together in anger. “Yousold it? When did I say that that one was good to sell? Ilovethat shirt!”
