He’s true to his word.

I didn’t think he would show up but the minister’s brother arrives at my door early the next morning. I can’t help but notice he’s more handsome than I realized yesterday. I don’t know if it’s the change in lighting or my excitement at his willingness to be my tour guide in this strange land. Nonetheless, in the clear light of day, I get a better look at his features and I like what I see. The same dark eyes as his brother; the iris is so dark it’s hard to distinguish from his pupil. Broad shoulders, a trim waist, and thick wavy black hair that was made for running your fingers through. He’s handsome, there’s no doubt about it, even if I am a little surprised that his good looks register during such dire circumstances. I guess there’s no overruling biology.

“I hope I didn’t arrive too early to wake you,” he says.

“No, it’s fine,” I say. “I’ve been awake for hours.”

He looks concerned. “I hope your accommodations are satisfactory?”

“The bed is top of the line. That’s not the reason I can’t sleep.” His brow crinkles in confusion. I decide it’s safe to vent to him. A little bit can’t hurt. “I just don’t understand why no one will tell me anything. It’s hard for me to get any true rest.” He motions for me to join him outside of my room. I step across the threshold and walk next to him.

“You must be very worried about your friends,” he says as he clasps his hands behind his back and proceeds down the hallway.

“I’m worried about my whole planet,” I say with an exasperated sigh.

“Of course you are,” he says, and I’m relieved there’s not a drop of condescension in his voice. He sounds legitimately concerned. “From what I understand, you and your crewmates are all exceedingly smart women. The best scientists on Earth. The Attalan guard are the best warriors we have. When you combine the two, there’s no way they can fail. I’m sure your goal will be accomplished.”

“I certainly hope so,” I say.

He extends his hand. I hesitate before reaching out with my own. I don’t feel particularly warm towards my captors but Ramyx has shown more sympathy than any others and I know instinctively that keeping on his good side is the right move.

Still, I’m surprised at the ripple of energy that courses through me when our fingers touch. Maybe it’s because I’ve been alone so long. And I’m not just talking about the past few weeks locked up. Or the months before that crammed in like sardines with four other women in a tin can racing across the galaxy. We’re talking years since my pulse raced at a man’s touch. I’ve gone through all the motions of dating the “right” men but I’ve never met anyone special. And then this alien’s touch hits me harder than I expected.

He squeezes my hand and leads me away from my room, through the hallways, quickly and confidently. He motions for me to be quiet as we twist and turn our way through the labyrinth of hallways. Finally, we pass through a set of giant glass and metal doors and break into the rising sunlight. I raise my hands up to the sky, stand on my tiptoes, and squeal like a little girl.

“Thank you so much for this,” I say as I jump up and pull him into a hug. “You don’t know how much I needed it.” He wraps me tightly in his arms and what started as a friendly hug morphs into a sensual one in the blink of an eye. Our bodies are pressed tightly together and a warmth spreads through my body and creeps into my cheeks. I want to pull him closer and stay there forever, but then I pull back, slightly horrified at my behavior. I brush it off with a nervous giggle and he leads me to a bench.

We sink onto the cold metal surface and sit side by side. He digs into his bag and hands me a brown gelatinous-looking bar. I hate protein bars, and this looks a thousand times worse. “I thought you’d enjoy seeing what most of our people eat,” he says as he hands it to me.

I raise it to my mouth and gingerly take a bite. “It’s horrible,” I announce, but the smile on my face betrays my disgust. I’m so happy right now, being out of that godforsaken locked room, that I don’t care what I’m eating.

“You don’t eat this kind of food on Earth?” he asks.

“Nothing that tastes quite this…unique,” I say.

“What is your favorite food at home?” He leans back and rests his weight on his hands while his eyes drink me in.

“That’s easy,” I say. “Pizza. Without a doubt.”

“And what is this food called pizza? And what makes it so wonderful?” He encourages my answer with a playful nod.

“It’s the perfect food. It has a crust on the bottom, and it can be either thin or deep dish, and it’s topped with a tomato sauce and then all this melted cheese and other toppings.” I know I’m rambling on like an idiot but I can’t help it. My mouth waters at the thought and I sit there grinning like a fool.

“Pizza sounds pretty amazing,” he says. “It must be the best thing about Earth.”

I giggle. “I mean, pizza is pretty amazing and I don’t want to discount how perfect it can be because I would pretty much sell my soul for a slice right now, but it’s not even in the top ten when it comes to amazing things about Earth.”

“Tell me about your life on Earth,” he says. “I’ve never been off this planet. What’s it like there? What’s your favorite part?”

I take a moment and collect my thoughts. It seems like a pretty harmless topic and I want to build a rapport between the two of us. I’m getting the sense, more and more, that maybe this guy could help me out. That maybe he could advocate for me and help me get out of here. Plus, he’s not too hard on the eyes and I like having someone to talk to about home. It makes it seem less far away, and more worth fighting for than ever.

“Well…”

“Stop stalling and answer the question,” he teases. “The suspense is killing me.”

“I’m not stalling,” I say and raise my hands in protest. “There’s just so much to choose from. I’m having a hard time deciding.”

“Just start giving me some of your favorites. I want to hear all about it.” His smile is so open and inviting, and he appears to really be interested in what I have to say.

“Well, I mean, there are the obvious things like freedom and equality and fantastic TV shows. But it’s the little things that mean the most to me.” I tuck a lock of hair behind my ears and look into his eyes. “We have the most spectacular fall weather where I live.”

“Tell me more,” he says.

“The air turns all cool and crisp and it’s a relief after how hot the summer is.” I close my eyes and try to remember the view from my screened-in porch. “The best part is how beautiful the trees are. All the leaves, which have been a beautiful bright green all summer, start turning yellow and orange and the most brilliant scarlet red you’ve ever seen. And we get to carve pumpkins and eat candied apples.”

I know he’s not understanding what I’m saying because I’m doing a piss-poor job explaining it to an outsider, but he still looks like he’s falling under my spell. I think he’s enjoying how much I’m enjoying reminiscing.

“How long does fall last?”

“Not long enough,” I reply. “Before long, the leaves drop from the trees and the snow starts to fly and it’s officially winter.”

He leans forward and rests his chin in his hand. “Earth sounds pretty amazing,” he says.

“Well worth saving,” I say as I give him an intense look.

“Well worth saving,” he agrees.