CATRIN

That dirty rat.

I snort when I push the dispenser in the mess hall and dark blue lotara noodles come out instead of my favorite askri noodles. The salty askri noodles are a particular favorite of one other person around here who knows we’re weeks away from getting another shipment, and who knows I’d lose my shit if I found out he ate my supply.

Tarekh is so going to get it. Like I wouldn’t know that he stole my noodles? The lotara are dark blue and askri have a greenish yellow tinge to them because they’re so salty. That dick. Of course, I picture Tarekh eating the last of them late at night with a gleeful look on his big face and then loading a different kind just to fuck with me and see my reaction. That’s totally something he’d do. I can’t stop grinning as I stop the dispenser mid-noodle and pull my wrench out of the toolbelt that’s slung low on my hips in Han Solo-style.

Tarekh thinks he’s gonna get away with this, huh?

Ten minutes later, I’ve pried the panel off of the food dispenser and put soap into Tarekh’s next favorite noodle type. Just one serving, of course, because I’m not about to waste a bucketload of food, but he’ll see what it’s like when you fuck with a girl’s noodles. I put the panel back on, push my wrench into my belt once more, and then decide that instead of eating, maybe I’ll go mess with my favorite medic a bit more.

As I head out of the mess hall, Alyvos heads in. “Don’t eat the jirri noodles,” I warn him. “They’re booby-trapped.”

“Kef me. Are you two playing games with the noodles again?” He groans. “You realize it’s against military procedures to tamper with the food supply?”

I make a face, mimicking his words, and he makes a rude gesture at me, which I promptly make back. I’ve learned that these guys can be a little gruff, but they’re also predictable and nice in their own way. Alyvos is still hung up on his military service. Sentorr’s obsessed with making the ship run like it should. And Kivian—well, Kivian’s the party boy. Tarekh’s the heart of this place, the peacemaker. Fran’s the mom, I guess, if there has to be a mom.

Me? I’m not sure what I am yet. Family dog, maybe. I can live with that. All I know is that I love the Lovesick Fool and its crew and the last two months have been pretty keffing great, all things considered. I’m safe. I’ve got friends. I’m useful. Sentorr’s even been teaching me how to shoot a blaster in case we get boarded. Even though Sentorr and Alyvos were both salty at the thought of me joining the crew, we get along great now. They treat me like a kid sister. Fran’s my female best friend, Kivian’s…well, he’s just Kivian.

As for me and Tarekh, it’s kind of a weird relationship. Something more than friends, something less than…more. We needle each other constantly. We push each other’s buttons. We know how the other person’s mind works and he’s the only one that can make me laugh so hard that I nearly pee on myself with delight. He’s the best thing on this ship, hands down, and everything on this ship is pretty fucking amazing.

I bite my lip so I don’t whistle a tune as I head towards the med-bay. I’m going to surprise that dork and let him know that I’m on to his noodle games. I’ll say one thing about Tarekh, he never lets things get dull. I’m grinning even though he sabotaged my noodles, just because I know he must have been planning this for a while. He’s going to want to see the look on my face—

As I stand outside the med-bay, I hear a low groan and then my name, whispered on a breath.

Goosebumps skitter up my arms. I know what that sound is. I recognize the voice, and he’s speaking low enough that he doesn’t want anyone to hear. This is supposed to be secret. I should be freaking out right now that our platonic, comfortable friendship has taken a weird turn. I should turn around and leave.

Instead, I hit the override on the door panel and manually crack open the door to the med-bay so I can watch.

From my vantage point in the hallway, I can see Tarekh's strong, broad back. His muscles flex and his tail lashes back and forth. He's shirtless, the tattoos on his body and his armored plating a subtle, beautiful dance over his skin. I've seen him like this before, of course, because when we're doing the dirty work on the ship, he tends to strip down or else his clothing gets messed up. I get it. I've destroyed more sleeves and ripped more holes in my jumpers than I care to think about.

I'm more interested in the fact that his trousers are loose around his waist, and his ass is tight, his hand pumping in front of him furiously. The other hand grips the wall and his head is bent, his horns in the air.

And I just barely hear my name breathed again.

Again, the goosebumps cover me, but I don't feel alarmed or freaked out. Strangely enough, I'm…flattered? Pleased? It's weird. I haven't thought about sex since I got here on the Fool, because I didn't want to. It's been almost two months and I'm starting to feel like a normal person again, not a toy to be used and discarded. I haven't thought about my past because I've put it behind me. It's done and I'm moving forward, even if it still haunts me in my dreams every now and then. But looking at his beautiful back and the way every cord of muscle in his body is clenched toward release, I feel a stirring in the pit of my belly. A yearning.

I remember what good sex was like.

I remember how good it felt to have your partner's weight lying on top of you, and feeling so sexy and gloriously wonderful as he pushed between your thighs so deep it felt as if you were one. I remember the intimacy of it, the connection.

For the first time in a long, long time, I miss that.

Tarekh's head snaps back and he lets out a harsh little grunt, and his shoulders heave. He's coming. I think for a flash and then slide the door shut again without a sound. Just as quickly, I re-activate the panel and slide my hand over it. "Crewmember Cat incoming," the computer chimes.

Tarekh curses and grabs an old tunic, shoving it over his crotch as I saunter in the room, clearly the best actress in the world. I don't show a hint of what I just saw and smirk at him instead. "Oh, don't cover that shit up," I tease. "Like I haven't seen that before."

He just rolls his eyes at me, keeps the tunic in front of his cock, and heads toward the water-closet to wash up.

I hop up on the med-bay bed and let my legs swing back and forth while I wait on him. I didn't miss the slight flush of deep color at the base of his horns—the mesakkah version of blushing. I didn't get to see his cock, though, which is a little disappointing. I find myself curious as to what it looks like—what he looks like. I've (unfortunately) had my share of alien sex, but never with one of his race. For a moment, I'm glad. I want him to be the first.

Then I wonder why the hell that thought popped into my mind. I'm not having sex with Tarekh. We're just friends.

But then I think of how he said my name while he stroked his cock. Just letting off steam, maybe? Perhaps I'm the only female to jerk off to other than Fran and she's married?

Thinking of Fran reminds me of what she told me when I first joined the crew. Doesn't mean he can't love you from afar.

I thought she was full of shit. Now I wonder.

Tarekh returns a few moments later, his pants fastened and his belt in place. He gives me a half-snarl that doesn't scare me as he saunters past. "You should learn to keffing ask if it's safe to come in."

"You should keffing learn not to stroke your wang during daylight hours," I retort, though I'm secretly pleased. I think of the husky little way he said my name. God, I liked that far too much. What is wrong with me? I swing my legs, a mixture of anxious and amped up. Something about catching him in the act like that has changed everything, but I'm not quite sure what it is.

He just grunts at me, pretending to be surly, and goes to his inventory panel on the computer, pretending to check shit out. "What do you want?"

"Someone ate all my noodles in the mess hall," I say lightly. "Don't suppose you know who that is?"

Tarekh just glances over his shoulder at me and a sly grin curves his mouth. It's like a punch to the gut, that clever little smile of his, and I'm left breathless with how handsome he is. No, I decide. Not handsome. He'll never be handsome by anyone's standards, and I'm fine with that. But there's no denying he's appealing. It's his personality, his strength, and his playful mind. His protectiveness when it comes toward me, and his utter contentment to just be my friend if that's all I want.

Doesn't mean he can't love you from afar.

Oh god, I'm not sure I want to just be friends anymore. I'm so confused.

"Wasn't me," he says, and it takes me a moment to realize we're still talking about noodles. Seems funny to do so when my world's changed in the space of a few minutes. The noodles were before I caught him secretly rubbing one out in my name. Tonight, I'm probably going to do the same, just to see how it feels.

The thought makes my pussy clench, and I cross my legs, pressing my thighs tightly together. "What are you up to?" I ask, changing topics.

He grunts. "Inventory."

"Like you can find anything in this pig pen," I tease, reaching out with one foot to nudge his swishing tail. I keep cleaning up after him in here and he keeps messing it up again. The man thrives in chaos, which is kind of cute—no, funny. It's funny.

Cute is for boyfriends. He's not my boyfriend.

Doesn't mean he can't love you from afar.

Arrrrgh.

"You look restless," he tells me, tapping a button on the panel before glancing back over at me.

I don't tell him that he's the cause of my restlessness. I'm not that brave and I haven't sorted my own head out yet. I watch his tail swish back and forth, showing the agitation he won't, and decide a different tactic. "Thinking about other planets and what I'm going to do once we finish this blackmatter run."

He turns and looks at me fully for the first time since I came in the room. "Oh? You're not staying on the Fool?"

"No, I think I am," I say quickly. "But I'm just thinking about options."

Tarekh nods and picks up a pack of plas-wraps. "Smart. I've been a lot of places. You can ask me about ’em if you want. Tell you what I know."

"Tell me about Homeworld," I say, curious about the main planet his people hail from. I know from talking to the crew that the mesakkah have spread to other planets, but most still say they're from Homeworld or are only a generation or so removed. There's a lot of cultural pride surrounding that place from what I can tell.

"What do you want to know about it?" He puts a big hand to the back of his neck and rubs, tilting his head back and forth in a way that I find fascinating. I can't stop staring.

Damn it, why are all of his movements suddenly fascinating? Just because I caught him jerking his dick? What the fuck is wrong with me? I shake my head to clear it. "So they all look like you there, right?"

He chuckles and tosses the rolls of bandages into an open cabinet, and they bounce right back out. "Not if they're lucky."

For some reason, that irritates me. I hate it when he calls himself ugly, as if having a pretty face is the only virtue a person can have. "Well, then I don't want to go there."

Tarekh gets really still. He blinks and then looks back over at me. The mesakkah can't move their brows, but I've learned to interpret the set of his mouth and it's clear he's a little perplexed. "Are you…flirting with me, Cat?"

Flirting? Flirting???

He sounds so astonished that the vehement denial on my lips changes to something else. "What if I am?"

The big lug just rubs his jaw. "Don't mind me saying, but you can do better."

Grr. "Maybe I don't want to. Ever think of that?" My heart's racing. I don't have a single idea of where I'm taking this conversation. All I know is that I don't want him to think that I find him ugly. Never that. Never.

Instead of looking pleased or flattered, or even surprised, his expression grows distant. His expressive mouth flattens and I can tell he's pissed. That tail whips in the same direction twice before flicking in the opposite direction like an angry cat. "I thought we went over this. You don't need to fuck me—or anyone else on this ship—out of gratitude. You earn your place with work. You don't have to earn it on your back."

Anger explodes in my mind and I leap off of the med-bay bed. "How fucking dare you?"

His eyes go wide at my fury. Tarekh reaches for me. "What? I'm just saying—"

I shove at him with both my hands, palms on his warm, fuzzy chest. God, I hate how even that feels nice. "You fucking fucker. You think that's something I'd really do? After my past? After the last two months? You think I'd just pity fuck you because hey, what's one more dick and Tarekh could use a good lay? Fuck you." I shove past him and slide away before he can grab me to stop me. "FUUUUCK!" I yell at the top of my lungs and slam a fist into the wall as I storm out of the med-bay.

That fucking asshole. Pity fuck indeed. So much for flirting with the guy. I'm so mad I could scream.

I do. Again. Just because it feels good to snarl at the universe.

Then I storm into my room—that used to be Tarekh's—and lock him out of the door override so he can't disturb me.