Page 29 of Badass Alien Boss

Light exploded as the booster lit up, and the doors slid open.

The building ward stood there. “Are you Ruyn and Michaela Perine?”

She lifted off his lap. “Yes, we are.” Her face had turned a charming pink.

“I’m glad I found you, and you’re okay.”

“How did you find us?” Stiff and achy, he struggled to his feet.

“A notice went out to all the apartments, asking the residents to report in. You two didn’t respond.”

“How did you know we were in here?” she asked, picking up their trash.

“I went to your units first, and when you weren’t there, I had the AI do a heat-signature scan.”

Considering what they’d been doing, the booster probably glowed red-hot. “Thank you for your diligence,” he said.

“Just doing my job. I’m glad I’ve got everyone accounted for now. I suggest you go straight to your units.” He made a rueful face. “I’m afraid you’ll need to take the stairs. It’s not safe to take the booster; you could get stuck again.” He pointed them toward the stairwell.

She frowned. “I don’t think—”

“It’s fine,” he said. “I’ll manage.”

“We live on the eighth floor. That’s a lot of steps. Are you sure?”

“Yes.” He pushed into the spiral stairwell and started climbing.

“If you need to take a break—”

“I won’t.” He wouldn’t.

The first two flights were easy, and he applauded his rehab progress. Two months ago, he couldn’t have managed one set.The third flight proved a little harder, but still quite doable. The fourth set reaffirmed his body had not regained its fighting form. Muscles protested, and his climb slowed. After the fifth set, only sheer determination kept him trudging upward.

Previously, even loaded with gear, he could have bounded to the roof without slowing or breaking a sweat. It pained him physically and mentally to see how much function he’d lost.

He pushed himself in therapy and in his gym workouts, but those were like the military training exercises—preparation for the real thing. These stairs were the real thing. What good did therapy do if he couldn’t climb a few steps?

The goal was to enable him to reengage in normal-life situations. Not that he’dchooseclimbing seven flights of stairs over riding a booster—but he needed to know he could for when a massive solar storm rendered a booster inoperable, and he had to get to his apartment without looking like a weakling or cripple in front of the woman he wished to impress. That kind of normal-life situation.

He peered at Michaela. “Two more to go. Are you doing okay?”

“Y-y-yes,” she huffed.

“Take a break if you need to,” he encouraged. “This isn’t a competition.” He started up the sixth flight. Itwasa competition, but he wasn’t competing with her, but with himself. Heneededto make it to their floor in one go.

“Thenyoutake a break,” she said.

“Don’t need one.” His leg hurt pretty bad, but he’d die before he quit.

“You’re such a man.”

“Thank you.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

He laughed, amusement dulling the pain ever so slightly. Up, up, up. He reached the landing. “One more.”

One step. Two. Up. Up.This is one way to alleviate a hard-on.