Page 7 of The Pregnancy Pact
He frowned at my hand on his, then up at me.
“What possible problems could you have that equate to the seriousness of mine?”
“Oh, uh…” Chagrined, I pulled my fingers away. What had I been thinking, touching him? Offering him sympathy?
This drink must be affecting me more than I thought, I realized, and swallowed hard, praying he hadn’t taken too much offense.
“None of that magnitude,” I admitted, swirling my glass, stirring up the liquid. It was something to do besides stare at him. “I mean, I’ve had my moments, for sure. I figured getting away from Earth, from home, from my lying, cheating ex-husband and getting on a space ship would help. Instead, I wound up here, probably drinking too much, and still can’t forget what that SOB did to me.”
A frown deepened the soft lines of the alien’s barely marked brow.
“Your husband was unfaithful?”
“Many times over,” I giggled.
Why is that funny? That’s not funny. Why are you laughing? You better stop drinking. Better stop talking.
“He had all the girls a man could want,” I continued, the words spilling out of my mouth despite my best attempts to stop them. “Then there was me. Waiting at home. Raising his kids. Contributing nothing to society, I guess.” I hiccupped again, then giggled about that.
“Sorry,” I finished. “I guess it’s no wonder he ran around on me.” Hiccup. Snicker. “After all that. Right?”
The alien was frowning at me. Was my story that terrible? Was I so pathetic? Or…
Reaching out, he plucked the drink from my fingers, setting it firmly on the shiny bar.
“Drinking will not erase your problems,” he said. “I should know.”
“Heh, you’re probably right,” I agreed. The world tilted. Or maybe the leg had popped off my barstool. I felt myself sliding to the right, and barely caught myself by grabbing the ends of the cushion. “But it does make you feel…better. Sorta.”
Was I slurring my words?
Damn it, Lorelai, get ahold of yourself! What’s wrong with you?
“Perhaps you should rest,” the alien advised, his frown deepening.
“Perhaps you should stop giving unwarranted advice,” I snapped back. “I’ve been pushed into corners all my life by men and told what to do. I put up with it from my husband and then the Overlords. I don’t—I don’t need it from you.”
The alien cocked his head to the side. “I am an Overlord,” he reminded me quietly. “And if you had not consumed too much blitza, I would be offended by your insolence.”
An internal voice warned me that I was going too far, treading on thin ice. The wild part of me that hadn’t been to a party or drank too much since my teen years—which had honestly been pretty tame, since I’d met and married Charlie at nineteen—hadn’t had enough. Or maybe the liquor was freeing up my wild side. All I know is I leaned towards him—swayed, more like it—putting my face very near his.
“Maybe you should punish me, then, Overlord,” I whispered, my gaze dropping to his lips.
Chapter 4
Lorelai
As soon as I said it, I knew I’d made a mistake.
Stop, Lorelai. Stop. You’re going to get in trouble. He’s an alien. He’s not even human! He’s more than that. He’s—he’s some sort of official. He’s important. He’s way above you. He could have you thrown in the dungeons for this.
Dungeons? Did they have dungeons on Drixus?
Probably whips and chains…for fun, I thought, and giggled.
Only then did I realize I was still staring at the alien’s mouth, giggling.
How long I’d been leaning towards him, I had no idea. The slightest rational part of my brain warned me that I was making a fool of myself. The rest of me? Didn’t care.