Page 31 of Alien's Luck
Ari finally noticed the bracelet. “What did you do?”
She grinned, slipping the too-large bracelet over her wrist. The lighting on the balcony could be accurately described as mood, but she held her arm up in a hopeful attempt to inspect her loot. Small symbols were etched into the metal finish. “It’s nice, right?”
“Carla, it is wrong to steal,” he said, but it didn’t sound like he had his heart in it.
“Oh, please. If she didn’t want to be robbed, she shouldn’t have grabbed me.” Carla recognized a symbol used for sending messages. She brushed her thumb across the symbol. The band lit up briefly, the characters glowing ruby against the gold.
The characters flashed as if waiting for a code or thumbprint for a biolock.
Excellent. This was no simple bracelet but a communicator. The biolock would require some finagling to circumnavigate, but it wasn’t impossible. Poppy usually handled stuff like that.
This was good. This could be useful.
The light faded as the device went back into sleep mode.
“You are making the friend face again,” Ari said, his tone dry.
“This is my happy face.” Things were finally going to plan. She had a bit of control back, and it was exhilarating.
Impulsively, she reached up and grabbed Ari by his shirt collar. She tugged him down to her level and kissed him.
CHAPTER 8
CARLA
Day four.
They needed to talk about the kiss. The one thing they absolutely had not accomplished was talking about the kiss.
Ari had just stood there, still as stone. It was like trying to French a statue. She broke away immediately, blushing furiously. Embarrassment and panic at what she had done burned so bright that she felt certain she’d incinerate on the spot. She ran away, diving under the covers of her little pet bed—basically a person-sized marshmallow donut on the floor next to the massive poster bed—and pretending that she didn’t exist, like a coward. Yes, the situation was disgusting and mortifying.
And the worst thing? It wasn’t the indignity of sleeping on the floor in a doggy bed. She’d slept in worse places, and the pet bed was cozy. The worst thing was that she couldn’t even tell if the kiss had been nice.
Of course, it hadn’t been nice. She basically assaulted Ari, and if she got even the tiniest bit of pleasure from forcing a kiss on a gargoyle that clearly didn’t want it, she was a horrible person. The kiss was gross. She was gross.
Ari didn’t say a word. The bed groaned as he sat on the edge, but he didn’t speak a word. She peeked out from under the blanket.
“You are better than this,” he said.
“I’m really not.”
With a dramatic sigh, he tore the blanket away. She tugged fruitlessly at the fabric but lacked the upper arm strength to yank it back.
Fine. She had to stop being a coward and do the hard thing and apologize like a grown -ass adult, even if she didn’t wanna.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” she said, every word dragging out of her like they weighed twenty pounds each. “I don’t want to talk about it right now. Can I please just be mortified in peace?”
As apologies went, it was lame.
Ari seemed unimpressed. “As you wish,” he said and left the room.
There. She somehow made the situation worse. Good job.
Sleep was impossible. Her mind kept replaying the kiss on a loop. She grabbed him and slammed her mouth to his. He remained passive, barely even breathing as far as she could tell, and then she stumbled away to hide. Her behavior was so reprehensible that Ari had to leave. Ari. The dude who literally bought her off the street. Apparently, there was a line, and she had crossed it.
Then Ari made the situation even worse by being thoughtful.
Not long after sunrise, Carla gave up trying to sleep. Ari had been gone all night. The hotel’s casino operated at all hours, so she imagined that’s where he went. He’d be back. Probably. She had a brief moment of panic, worrying that Ari would abandon her there.
