CATRIN

I’m glad Fran suggested the collars.

My first instinct was to flick it out of her hand. To knock it to the floor and stomp it to a million pieces. No one would blame me. But she’s in the same boat as I am—she knows how humans are looked at on these kinds of stations. To aliens, we’re walking, talking sex dolls. People don’t think anything of grabbing a girl or invading her personal space. They just don’t care. We’re not real people to them.

So a collar is smart. Insulting, but smart. I can be attached to an owner and no one’s going to mess with me at all.

I give my chain to Tarekh. Of course I do. Sentorr’s a loner and prefers to spend his time on the ship instead of partying on the station. Kivian has Fran. Alyvos is nice enough, but he’s not Tarekh. When I hand the chain over to the big medic, it feels…sexy.

Like things just went up a notch between us.

Like we just silently agreed to take things to the next level.

We didn’t, of course, but it feels that way. Maybe it’s the fun, shimmery pink dress-like tunic I’m wearing, or maybe it’s that to the rest of the universe, I’m now known as Tarekh’s woman. Either way, I’m feeling a little excited as we enter the station and walk with the crowds, but no one thinks a thing of a human female clutching at the belt of a big, brutal mesakkah pirate. They might give us a second glance, but no one reaches out to touch me. And I’m free to hang off Tarekh as much as I want. I can hold on to his tail or slide my hand into the crook of his elbow. I can put my hand around his waist and snuggle up to him and everyone in our group will think we’re just pretending. Everyone on the station will think I’m his pet.

Either way, it’s all completely safe.

I love that. Even though I have a collar around my neck, it feels strangely like freedom to be here with him like this. I glance over at Fran and she’s lightly holding on to one of the ties on Kivian’s sleeves as we wind our way into the station. Alyvos saunters at the front of the group, and Tarekh and I make up the rear.

The air smells a little funky on a station. I’d forgotten how much it smells like a public restroom. There’s a faint stink mixed with antiseptic cleaners, and it makes me wrinkle my nose and I realize how crowded the station is. There are people everywhere, and the low hum of voices trading, laughing, and yelling at each other is overwhelming after months on a quiet ship. I move just a little closer to Tarekh. He puts one big hand on my shoulder and for some reason, that feels so comfortable and welcome that I want to cry.

Instead, I just give his tail a little tug.

Tarekh stiffens, his eyes going wide, and I send him an innocent smile.

He grabs my hand. “Not that, not in public.” The base of his horns are deep, deep blue and I suspect I might have just made a faux pas. He never tells me no, but the look on his face is nothing short of shocked.

Okay, no tail grabbing in public. “Got it.” I slide my hand back into his belt. His fingers brush over my hair and then he settles his palm on my shoulder once more.

Under his protective grip, I notice that while people might stare, no one’s grabbing or touching. That’s completely different than my last station experience, when, if I was upright, anyone would feel free to grab and pinch anywhere and everywhere. I decide I like this a lot better, even if it means I have to wear a stupid collar. Faint music starts to pulse through the hallways, and then we’re heading toward a place that must be the local cantina.

The cantina is crowded with people of every shape and color. I’m pretty sure I see something that looks like an overgrown frog in a codpiece walk past, talking with something humanish that’s orange and pebbly looking. On the stage, a girl with four spindly arms and a gigantic, bouncy butt shakes her moneymaker while others play sticks at tables and bubbles of opalescent fluid float in the air.

Wow. I feel a lot like Princess Leia in a Star Wars movie, right down to the collar.

“Table at the back,” Alyvos calls out over the crowd, and pushes his way through the cluster of people. We follow, and this time Tarekh pushes me in front of him, both hands on my shoulders. Someone eyes me appreciatively and glances up at Tarekh…and then quickly hurries away again. I’m guessing he’s glaring at them.

I think I like that. A lot.

We settle in at the table, and some things don’t change. Like at an Earth diner, the table’s a long booth with a curving seat around a tiny table with multiple stations. I’m amused to watch the big mesakkah aliens squeeze in at the table, since it’s clearly made for people slightly smaller than them. Of course, Fran and I look like little kids, my chin barely reaching the table top and my feet not touching the ground. It’s a little ridiculous.

I find myself seated next to Alyvos, with Tarekh on the other side of me. “Comfortable?” Tarekh asks, dropping my chain discreetly between us.

“I guess?” I put my chin on the tabletop as a joke and find it sticky. Ugh. Joke backfired. “As long as I don’t have to see what I’m eating or drinking, I’m cool.”

He frowns, looking concerned.

“It’s a joke, big guy. Whatever they’re serving, I’m sure I’ve eaten worse.”

But he just rubs his chin. “I’m not sure if the food here’s been filtered for humans. There might be indigestible elements that could cause a problem for your system.”

Fran pulls something out of her pouch. “I brought snacks from the ship for us humans.” She gives me an apologetic look and hands me a plas-wrapped package. “I’ve run into this sort of thing before. Trust me when it’s better not to try the food. If you value your guts, don’t do it.”

Yeesh. I take the squares from her. “Maybe I should have stayed on the ship with Sentorr.”

Tarekh tenses next to me. “You want me to take you back?”

I shake my head. Truth is, I’m kind of enjoying this. It’s been months since I’ve left the ship and I didn’t realize how much I’d enjoy a change of pace. The music’s weird, the food’s apparently inedible, but it’s nice to just kind of kick back and relax. I watch Kivian slide an ornately sleeved arm around Fran’s shoulders and she snuggles up against him, and I feel a pang of longing. I want that.

I look over at Tarekh and he’s just watching me, his eyes soft with affection. My heart squeezes at the sight, and I smile at him. I adore this man.

Kivian reaches over to the center of the table and hits a toggle. The table lights up, reading bio signatures, and the refreshment dispensers begin to whirr. I'm enchanted by the sight of the colorful bubbles floating into the air. I love that this is the way people have drinks in outer space. So fun. I'm envious that I can't drink one. "We should get one of these back on the ship," I tell Tarekh.

"We should," he agrees. "I'll program one to shoot bubbles for you with stuff humans can drink."

"That works." I look speculatively over at him as a waitress prowls past with a tray of something that looks like chocolate truffles. If I've learned anything about outer space foods, it’s that those are probably not truffle-like in the slightest. That helps ease the chocolate urge, just a little. I'm more interested in watching Tarekh, though. "Are you going to drink?"

"Me? Nah." He leans back in the booth and shakes his head. "I'll keep you company on the no-drinking policy."

"Aw. But these bubbles are so pretty." I nudge one toward him with a fingertip. "You can drink them on my behalf."

"Maybe." He shrugs.

"Should we try to find some sticks games around here?" Kivian asks, lifting Fran's hand to his mouth and nibbling on her fingertips. "Or just enjoy the company of our females?"

Our females? I'm a little surprised to hear that, but no one can deny that I belong with Tarekh. Even now, I've moved closer to him than to Alyvos, our thighs touching under the table. I have the insane urge to slide my hand between his legs and see what I can get away with here in the throbbing madness of the cantina, but then I remember the tail touch from earlier. Maybe he's not in the mood for that sort of thing tonight.

I glance over at him and his horns are bright blue at the base. Then again…

Alyvos snorts and gets out of the booth, stepping onto the table and pushing aside the refreshment bubbles floating in the air around us. "I'm going to go find someone to fight." He hops off the table and disappears into the crowd. I like Aly, but he's a prickly one to get to know. Seems weird that he wants to start a fight instead of hang out, though.

"Did we do something wrong?" I ask Tarekh quietly.

My alien just rubs the base of his horns and gives me an odd look. "It's nothing to worry over. He, ah." He rubs his head again, and I can practically hear the bristle of his shaved scalp. "He likes brawling for bets. It's his way of unwinding. Releasing pent-up tension."

I wonder what Alyvos is so tense about. I glance over at Fran and Kivian, but they're lost in their own little world, eyes locked. I glance over at Tarekh again, and he's staring pointedly ahead at nothing in particular, that weird, uncomfortable look on his face.

Is he…shy? Did Aly leave because this felt like a double date and he was a third wheel? And Tarekh knows it? Why do I find that so cute? I put my hand on his thigh and smile up at him. "You're not going to abandon me, are you?"

I watch his throat work, and he shakes his head after a moment. "Never."