When he leaned toward me, my heart leaped into my throat and choked the breath from my body. I knew that lean; it was the same lean I’d gotten at the end of dates outside my front door or next to my car or the one time I’d been dropped off at the airport by a guy I’d thought was just a friend. It was the lean of a kiss, and it sent a jolt of tightly-sewn shockwaves through me.

There was a problem, though. I’d already sat back in my chair, and I was pretty sure this wasn’t the end of our dinner together as we both still had half our meals on our plates. The timing wasn’t right, and I didn’t know if that was my fault or his, but I would’ve felt completely ridiculous if I eased back toward him after pulling away literally just seconds before.

To my surprise, however, he didn’t hang there waiting for me. He reached a blue hand forward and touched the ring I wore on my left index finger.

“This is very interesting,” he said, studying the piece of jewelry. My skin heated where he inadvertently brushed it. “Why do you wear it?”

Either he never intended to kiss me, or he was capable of very smooth segues, but either way, I felt a surge of disappointment. I was dying for a bit of romance, especially with him. Venan was so attractive, obviously, and I wasn’t going to deny that his power was appealing, but it was more than that. His quiet, thoughtful, brooding personality kept me intrigued like I’d never been before. In fact, with human men, I often found brooding annoying. It was like they took themselves too seriously and expected the world around them to wonder what was going in their minds, only so they could preach their brilliant gospel to the lesser-informed. With Venan, though, it was different. He was mysterious, clearly misunderstood and struggling not to maintain the misunderstanding but to find common ground between himself and his people. And I was thirsty to understand him.

I looked down at the ring he indicated. It was a sapphire solitaire and the only piece of jewelry I wore religiously. The only time I’d taken it off in my adult life was during the journey from Earth to Albaterra because we were warned that the gravity shift could alter our bodies, and I was afraid it would end up cutting off my circulation or something.

“It was my mother’s engagement ring,” I told him, lowering my fork to my plate and pinching the stone with my thumb and index finger on my right hand.

He cocked his head slightly, interest on his handsome face. “Engagement ring?”

“Yeah, you know, a ring to symbolize her commitment to marry my dad?” I explained tentatively. When realization didn’t dawn on his face, I added, “It must just be a human tradition. When a man proposes, he gives a woman a ring, sort of as a token of his dedication and love for her. She wears the ring forever usually, unless she rejects him or they get divorced or something.”

“Why does your mother no longer wear it?” he asked.

For some reason, if anyone else had asked me such personal questions on a first date, I probably would have considered them to be nosy whether that was their intention or not. Coming from Venan, I almost found it endearing, like he genuinely wanted to know about me. “She died last year, and I got the ring,” I said. The familiar pang of sadness I felt when I thought of my mom’s passing zinged through me, but it was short-lived. It didn’t feel as real on another planet.

His white gaze softened, and he murmured, “I am sorry to hear you suffered such a loss. To lose one’s parent is a terrible tragedy.”

“Thank you,” I replied with as much softness in my voice as he used in his. “It wasn’t a surprise, though. She was sick for years.”

“What kind of sickness ailed her?”

“Cancer.” I still hated saying the word as much as I had five years ago when she’d received her diagnosis. Venan didn’t blanch or look down, and it was evident he didn’t know what cancer was just like he hadn’t known what an engagement ring was. Unfortunately, I was far from a doctor or a scientist and didn’t have the slightest clue how to explain it properly, so I just took my best stab at it. “Bad cells took over the good ones, I guess you could say.”

He still hadn’t leaned back, but I sensed his presence had become one of sympathetic comfort rather than intended seduction. “You were her nurse?” he inquired.

“Oh, no,” I responded adamantly, shaking my head. “I wasn’t even around for most of it. I moved to New York for cosmetology school right after I turned eighteen and didn’t go back to Florida until Mom was put into hospice.”

“Florida.” He tried the word out on his tongue, and I smiled slightly at the uneven inflection he used. “Such a strange name. I know of New York, but I have never heard of Florida. Are the two places far from one another?”

I nodded. “Across the country.”

“Florida had no schools for you?” I was starting to wonder if he just enjoyed saying the word “Florida,” as the corners of his mouth turned up slightly each time he said it.

“There are cosmetology schools,” I said, “but the one I wanted to go to was in New York. My dream was to work in the fashion industry doing hair for Avant Garde designers.”

There seemed to be little he understood about that sentence, too, yet he didn’t seem detached or disinterested in our conversation. His face was actually lit up as I told him bits about my life, and I realized he delighted in learning about me just as much as I did of him. It was a thrilling sensation to be considered so intriguing to another person, or being, as I wasn’t sure it was appropriate to label an A’li-uud a “person.” Particularly one I found to be incredibly intriguing himself. The electric chemistry zapped between us like a force field, and I slowly started leaning in toward him again without realizing it.

“What of the rest of your family?” he pressed on, presumably determined to absorb as much as he could of me. “Are they still with you?”

“Technically, no, since I’m in a completely different galaxy,” I chuckled. “As far as if they’re alive or not, my dad died when I was fourteen, and I don’t have any siblings. So, I guess you could say it’s just me, although I have a few cousins and aunts and uncles I left behind.”

“You have no siblings?” This piece of information appeared to stun him a bit, as his narrow eyes widened and his brows lifted a fraction toward his pearly hairline.

“Nope,” I reiterated. “I’m an only child.”

He touched his chin with three fingertips. I didn’t know what to make of the gesture, if he was thinking or if it was supposed to mean something. Then, he said musingly, “There were times I imagined my brother and sister away, but even the imaginings did not have the appeal one would think. Zuran has been the bane of my existence for the measure of my life, yet I believe he was made my twin, and I his, for a good reason. Even Ola, my sister, was born into our family with a purpose, though what that purpose may be I cannot fathom.”

Even though he’d brought his younger sister up himself, I wasn’t about to approach that territory with a ten-foot pole after the awkwardness it had brought us before. Instead, I redirected the conversation into his childhood with Zuran and what it was like to grow up with a twin. He told me of the hours they’d spend together in the outskirts of Ka-lik’et, traversing the Dhal’atian dunes and venturing to various oases to swim. I discovered just how right I’d been in assuming Zuran was a bit of a prankster as Venan recalled tales of youthful mishaps guided by his brother’s trickery. It was surreal to imagine the serious-faced Elder before me as a young A’li-uud racing beyond the city walls beneath the pounding desert sun with an identical A’li-uud boy at his side. But I knew the memories were as real to him as if they’d happened yesterday by the way his vision unfocused and his chin tilted up toward the ceiling while he talked.

By the time our plates were cleaned and taken from the table, I was having such a good time I didn’t want the evening to end. Even when Venan rose from his chair to help me from mine and led me to the palace doors himself rather than allowing the warrior standing by to do it, I was hoping he intended to take me for a walk or continue our conversation on the palace grounds. I was struck with another round of disappointment when he said, “I have arranged for Katil to escort you back to your home.”

“Oh,” I replied a little stupidly. I hoped the disappointment I was feeling didn’t translate into my eyes, but I couldn’t be sure. “No, that’s okay. He doesn’t have to.”

“He does, as I have ordered him so,” came Venan’s rather stern response. It was a bit like being chastised by a teacher, and I nodded my agreement immediately instead of arguing the point further. Truthfully, I didn’t want an escort. A walk in the cool evening air alone sounded like the perfect ambience for me to go over every detail of the dinner in my mind and quell the regret I had for its end. Nevertheless, I knew it was required for humans to have an escort to the palace, so it only sounded reasonable that they should require an escort from it as well.

“Thank you for inviting me here,” I said cordially. “The food was absolutely delicious.”

“It was my pleasure,” he acknowledged, tilting his head.

A swell of hope rose in my belly. If our date was over for the night, so be it, but I waited to hear the words I wanted him to say. Now would be the time to set up a second date, to ask what I was doing in the coming days or to suggest an outing somewhere I’d never been. And now was definitely the right time for the goodnight kiss.

Instead, Venan turned his head away and jerked it slightly. Katil appeared from the shadows of the next room, and he opened one of the massive doors for me. Venan said something to him in A’li-uud and then turned his gaze to me one final time.

“Thank you for your company,” he said, sounding just as cordial as I had. “I enjoyed it immensely.”

“You’re welcome,” I murmured uncertainly. He inclined his head once more and stepped back, and Katil took my arm in his hand. Just like that, I was swept from the palace into the Ka-lik’et night with a full stomach and a confused head.

* * *