Page 17 of Aliens Love Curves
"Thanks," I murmur, hyper-aware of his proximity as he settles into the seat across from me. His tail curls contentedly as the server brings us steaming cups of Ovan caf.
"Sleep well?" he asks, his silver eyes catching mine over the rim of his cup.
"Better than you, I imagine. That couch can't be comfortable."
His lips quirk in a half-smile that makes my stomach flutter. "I've had worse."
The morning light plays across his pink skin, highlighting the strong planes of his face. I catch myself staring and quickly look down at my plate.
"I need to tell you something," I say, pushing my breakfast around with my fork. "Harlan messaged me last night. There's a shareholders' ball this week."
Stryker's tail twitches – a tell I'm learning to read. "And?"
"He wants to present me to them. To convince them to let me race the prototype." I lean forward, lowering my voice. "This could be our chance. If they choose me as their pilot, I'll have access to restricted areas, behind-the-scenes operations—"
"And significantly higher risk of injury or death if something goes wrong," Stryker cuts in, his voice tight.
My feathers bristle. “I thought we established yesterday that me having this opportunity is the best way to find out what the hell is going on here.”
Stryker sighs and nods. “I know I know, but it doesn’t mean I like it non-the-less.”
Before I can respond, movement catches my eye. Lyra approaches our table, another employee in tow.
"Mind if we join you?" She doesn't wait for an answer before settling at the adjacent table. "Lovely morning, isn't it?"
We make polite conversation, but I can feel the weight of unspoken words between Stryker and me. His knee brushes mine under the table, sending sparks through my body.
"We should go for a walk," he says suddenly. "Clear our heads before training starts.”
I catch his meaning immediately. "I’d like to take a look at the botanical gardens. I overheard one of the other training teams mention them.”
Lyra nods enthusiastically. “Yes, they are lovely this time of day. Plus, the only way to reach them is with a glider. Using one before training begins will get you warmed up for the day."
Stryker nods once at Lyra and rises. “Great idea.” I follow suit.
We make our excuses and head to the glider rental station. The gardens float on a separate platform, accessible only by air – perfect for private conversation.
Stryker approaches the rental counter, but I grab his arm. "Let's take one glider," I say impulsively. "Save energy resources." Really, I want to take the opportunity to get even closer to him, his alien cologne is driving me crazy today.
Stryker gestures for me to climb up front and claim the handlebars, I shake my head with a smile and sit in the pillion seat. He raises an eyebrow but doesn't object. Minutes later, we're atop a sleek two-seater, my chest is pressed against Stryker’s enormous back as he takes the controls.
"Relax," I tell him, feeling the tension in his body. "Have some fun with it."
To my surprise, he chuckles. The sound vibrates through me, making my pulse quicken. He looks back over his shoulder and winks at me. "Fun, huh? Hold on tight, Cop."
We shoot into the sky, the acceleration making me wrap my arms tightly around his waist. Stryker handles the glider with unexpected playfulness, executing barrel rolls and steep climbs that have me laughing with delight.
"Show off!" I accuse, breathless.
"Look who's talking," he retorts, but there's warmth in his voice.
The botanical gardens appear ahead, a crystal dome floating serenely in the lavender sky. Flowering vines drape over its surface, creating a luminescent canopy. We park the glider and dismount, both of us still have the ghost of the smiles his playful riding skills just gave us on our lips as we head for the entrance.
Inside, the air is thick with the scent of exotic blooms. Winding paths lead through lush vegetation, offering countless private nooks and secluded benches. I don’t know if it’s too early, but there isn’t another soul around but us. We find a quiet spot near a cascading water feature, its gentle music providing cover for conversation.
I lick my lips, trying to wash away the last trace of fun we just shared, it’s time to get down to business. "About the ball," I begin, but I'm distracted by how the filtered light plays across Stryker's features. Have his eyes always been so intense? Has his tail always moved with such hypnotic grace?
"Casey?" His voice is soft, concerned.