Total pages in book: 175
Estimated words: 166095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 830(@200wpm)___ 664(@250wpm)___ 554(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 166095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 830(@200wpm)___ 664(@250wpm)___ 554(@300wpm)
Best of all, we can all stay together.
I have no idea if this is going to work. I have no idea if they’re even going to like the idea. But I feel like it’s the best solution we have at the moment and it’s worth a try. I mentally picture myself and Bethiah kissing while Jamef watches and…I don’t hate it. I picture Jamef touching me while Bethiah watches and…I don’t hate that either. I might like it.
The true test would be how I feel if they touch each other and I’m forced to watch.
But if we all agree to it and it means I don’t have to get dumped on a farm planet in the middle of nowhere…could I learn to like it?
Twenty-Nine
BETHIAH
It’s far too early in the morning when the comm buzzes into my room. “Bethiah? Are you up?” Dora’s voice is chirpy and sweet and far, far too happy for this hour. “Hello?”
I reach over and turn the comm off. That can be my answer. Rolling over in bed, I put my back to the door and tuck my arm under my horn, trying to get back to sleep. She can wait for a decent time. I need my rest. And besides, I’m mad at both her and Jamef at the moment. Let them stew a little.
Just as I’m drifting back to sleep, the door to my room opens. In the next moment, the blanket is ripped off of me. “Get up.” It’s Dora’s voice, no longer sweet. Now she sounds furious. “Quit being a damn baby.”
I roll onto my back, yawning. “Give me back my blanket, fluffit.”
“I need to talk to you,” Dora says, tucking the blanket under her arm and clearly not about to return it. “Jamef, too. And it needs to be this morning.”
Does it really? I’m pretty sure it can wait. “Is someone’s life in danger? Because yours is if you don’t give me my blanket back and let me go to sleep.” I hold my hand out and wiggle my fingers, indicating she should return it. “Give.”
“No. Bethiah, come on. I’m serious. We need to talk.” Dora’s face is sober and absolutely no fun. She’s not crying, though, which means she hasn’t reached her limits.
I consider getting out of bed for a hot moment. I sit up, and Dora’s face brightens. And when I sit up…I grab the blanket and snatch it back from her, then lie back down again. I’m being childish, sure, but I also feel like making her suffer for turning me down.
A hand grabs my horn, and to my surprise, Dora yanks on it, trying to tug me out of bed. “Would you quit being such a darn jerk?”
She’s not strong enough to haul me around, but I admire the fluffit’s spirit. I let her “drag” me upright, and the look of determination on her face is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.
Dora scowls, tugging on my horn. “I know this is hard to believe, but both Jamef and I care about you and I think we should all three have a nice logical conversation and work things through.”
“Oh please,” I say as she tries to tug me forward again. “You’re both plotting behind my back.”
When I don’t move, instead of giving up, Dora flicks my nose and gives me an exasperated look. “It’s not behind your back if you show up to our meeting, now is it?”
Hm. She’s got me there. And she’s asserting herself. I’m liking this new side of my sweet fluffit. I stand upright. Dora squeaks in surprise, her body slithering down my front. I catch her in my arms so she doesn’t fall over, and grin down at her for a long moment. Her cheeks are getting pink and she looks flustered to be in my arms. “Fine,” I say. “You want me to try and have a conversation at the ass-crack of dawn, you’ve got me. But I can’t say I’ll be coherent.”
“I’ll do all the talking,” Dora says excitedly. She takes my hand in hers, smiling, and gives it a squeeze. “Are you dressed? Do you need to get more clothes on or are you good? I’ll put on some night tea. Just come on.”
I look down at the loose sleeping tunic I’m wearing—which is nothing more than a sleeveless scrap that covers a hint of my torso and not much more—and a pair of comfy, loose trou in a fuzzy material that feels good against my skin. The waist of the trou is low so my tail can be free while I sleep, and I hitch them up just a little with one hand while I let Dora tug me along with my other hand.
I’m not changing clothes for whatever this meeting is. If they want early morning Bethiah, that’s what they’ll get. Yawning, I follow along with shuffling steps.