Page 102 of Stardusted
But when he returned from draping his damp coat over the counter, I risked another glance. He appeared annoyinglyrelaxed now, like he’d decided and that was that. Like he’d already claimed squatters’ rights to my throw pillows.
A flare of panic launched in my belly. Sky couldn’t stay here. I needed to be alone. To think. To thinkalone.
I couldn’t do that with Sky being here, all confusing and mysterious and—what was wrong with me—still so hot…
“No,” I said firmly. “You don’t have to…stay here. I appreciate the offer and all, but that’s not necessary.”
He ignored me. When he didn’t even turn from adjusting my couch cushions, I marched over to him.
“Did you not hear me? You’re notsleeping with me.”
My mouth formed an O of horror. Lightning flashed. Thunder boomed.
That—that wasn’t what I’d meant to say. A faux pas. A Freudian slip of the highest order.
And now…silence. Sky, too, stilled mid-pillow fluff, his back to me. Any hope he’d missed it vanished. He’d heard what I’d said.
Every one of my cells screamed in silent, abject misery. Why was I forever making an idiot out of myself around this man?
Around this alien. Alien man. Whatever.
“That’s not what I meant,” I whispered, face flaming. “You’re not sleepinghere. In this apartment. Like, with me here, too. That’s what I meant.”
Too late. It was far too late.
When he turned, his slow, crooked grin could’ve melted the polar ice caps. “I didn’t think you were propositioning me. I just admitted I was from another planet.” He waited a beat, then cocked his head and leaned a little closer. “But you know, if that’s your idea of staying safe, I’m open to negotiations.”
That smirk deepened. I gazed up at him. “Negotiations...”
I was sure he was good at negotiating. I’d bet he was outstanding atnegotiationsof all kinds.
When I continued to gaze stupidly up at him, having turned into a stone, his grin faded. “I’m kidding, Rae. It’s just the couch.”
I jerked, coming back to life. “Right. Of course.”
Of course he was kidding.
I shouldn’t be thinking that way, either. I shouldn’t be imagining doing any…negotiating with him.
This was Sky. Alien Sky. From the stars. The sparkly-skin, Enil-fighting, mind-wiping bartender.
Who was now in my living room. Still kind of wet. Being hot. Being…flirty?
Oh my God. He’d been flirting with me. And now he was staring atme, eyes slightly narrowed, like he wasn’t sure what I was thinking.
Bad thoughts.
I pressed my lips together and went into defense mode because it was a much better choice than abandoning all my standards and wrestling him onto my couch.
“Good. I’m glad you’re kidding. Because not in a million years, Starboy,” I said, backing away. I fixed a sneer on my burning face for good measure. “My life is complicated enough. I don’t need alien STDs, too.”
His eyes widened, like I’d stunned him. Then he let out a rich, genuine laugh that did funny things to my insides. I’d only heard that laugh a handful of times in the six months I’d known him. It transformed his face, flashing white teeth and crinkling the skin around his eyes.
Broody Sky was attractive. Happy Sky was gorgeous.
I wondered briefly what it’d take for happy Sky to make more appearances, then pushed aside the thought. That wasn’t something I needed to be worried about right now.
I needed to be concerned with the Sky currently trying to camp out on my couch.
