Page 12 of Radiant Exception
“And what makes you think they’ll trust you over me?”
I shook my head. “Of course they won’t, but I can observe them, seeing and hearing what they wouldn’t show in front of their captain. There’s camaraderie in lower ranks,” I argued.
“I’ll think about it.” He glanced down at his watch. “We need to go or we’ll be late for the pre-flight meeting.”
“Wait.” I got up from the bed, grabbing his arm without thinking. “We need to get our story straight.”
“What story?”
“How we met. How we fell in love.”
Vaughn groaned. “What were you thinking?” Curiously, he didn’t shake my hand from his arm this time, but I released him nonetheless.
“You have yearly leadership training with Starlane. Maybe we met there, had a whirlwind affair, and have been corresponding since then—has to be on an encrypted line, or there’d be a digital trail. The long-distance relationship could help to explain any physical awkwardness.” I’d been thinking of what holes needed to be filled since Darren had dropped the bomb on me the day before.
“Only one problem—Starlane exceptions are so rare, they’d never grant one to such an untested couple. It would be a huge risk of disruption. How are we supposed to explain how we lucked out?” He folded his arms over his broad chest.
“Because of you,” I replied.
He didn’t seem to understand.
“You really don’t have any idea how much of a coup it is that they have you on their books, do you?”
“My discharge pension only covered the down payment on theRadiant. They have a monopoly on all ship loans and most freight runs. There was nowhere else I could go.”
“That doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be a PR nightmare for the press to catch wind that such a decorated military hero was denied an exception with the love of his life.”
Vaughn rolled his eyes at the sentiment. “Fine. Whatever.” He turned to make for the door.
“Wait, there’s one more thing.”
He stopped, but didn’t turn around.
“Can you at least pretend not to be physically repulsed by me in front of the crew? We don’t need to be heavy on the PDA, but you’re going to have to try to act like you’re a little comfortable with me, okay?”
He grunted what I thought was a tentative agreement, then said, “C’mon, Trouble, time to face the inquisition,” as he strode out the door.
Moments before we reached the mess hall, I once again slipped my hand into Vaughn’s, earning another scowl. I found it curious that touching him, even in small ways, provided a slight tingle in my belly.
He had a quiet charisma that was hard to ignore. I liked his attention, especially when it was tinged with annoyance or anger. I didn’t want to think about what that meant about how fucked up I was.
“Smile. Look happy,” I instructed, glaring up at him.
“I don’t smile.”
I couldn’t stop a snorted laugh at his response, before slipping into my own mask of the dutiful and aloof new bride of the captain. It felt like riding a bicycle, playing these different characters for each mission. I’d played so many different people, I wondered if anyone knew the real me. Well, Xavier had, but he was gone, so perhaps he was the only person who ever would.
Still, the more I worked, the more I found it was better to stay as close to the real me as possible, while still maintaining a healthy dissociative distance from my emotions. As long as I never let anyonetruly in, I would be safe. I knew how much it hurt when you bared yourself to someone and they used it against you. I wouldn’t make that same mistake again.
Because the longer you’re undercover, the closer you get to people, the harder it is to keep the mask up and to keep the feelings out. Since it had been over three years since my final mission with IA, I had to be careful to build the walls as high as they could go. There was too much on the line. Who I was no longer mattered. There was only the mission.
“Shouldn’t I know shit about you? What’s your favorite color? Favorite food?” I could hear the slight panic in his voice as we approached the closed door—reality setting in. I stifled a laugh at the thought of my favorite color or food even coming up in conversation.
“When would we have had time to talk about those things while we were sending secretive smutty missives back and forth and having sexy video chats?” I replied, easily explaining away the lack of information we had on each other, running my thumb along his hand suggestively.
Vaughn about choked at the thought of either type of communication, and reflexively tried to pull his hand from mine, but I refused, holding steadfast to the contact.
He opened his mouth to protest, but before he had the chance, the door slid aside, revealing the entire crew gathered together.
