"Here's something to cheer you up," I murmured, crouching beside the bathtub.
K'liira was curled up in the lukewarm water, her fins drawn to her chest, shoulders hunched with quiet misery. The glow that had shimmered beneath her skin the night before had dulled to a pale blue-gray. She looked so small, so painfully out of place.
I held up my iPad wrapped carefully in a ziplock bag. "Look," I whispered, tapping the screen to bring up the video I'd queued. A high-definition documentary on coral reef ecosystems filled the display, vivid blues and greens flickering across her face like the surface of the sea.
Her fingers reached out tentatively, brushing the plastic with reverence before she took it in her hands, her gaze transfixed by the marine life dancing across the screen. Her expression softened...just a little...as she traced a finger over the glowing jellyfish and swaying anemones. I stayed there a moment longer, watching her silently, then rose to my feet and backed out of the bathroom, giving her space.
The living room was heavy with a silence I didn't want to disturb. Delmar sat on the couch, elbows on his knees, hands loosely clasped together as he stared at nothing. His jaw was tight, the lines on his face deeper than usual. A storm cloud carved into something beautiful.
I didn't say anything. I just walked past him like I hadn't noticed the weight in the air. My feet carried me into the kitchen, where I busied myself with the simplest of tasks...cracking eggs, slicing bread...anything to keep my hands moving, my mind distracted.
I wasn't happy with him.
Not after last night.
Not after the secrets.
"Are you going to see him again?" Delmar's voice broke the silence. It was calm, but there was something under it. A quiet thunder.
I kept my eyes on the cutting board. "He works with me," I said plainly.
"Kash."
The way he said my name... it slid into the space between us like a blade sheathed in velvet. It wasn't just a name...it was a summons. A plea. A warning.
My breath caught. I gripped the knife tighter.
"Look at me," he said, more insistently this time.
I turned, reluctantly, knowing full well that seeing his face would make my resolve waver. And it did.
He was already close. Closer than he had any right to be.
"What?" I asked, trying...and failing....to sound unaffected.
"I'm sorry... about last night."
I rolled my eyes and turned back to the stove. "You don't need to apologize for K'liira," I snapped, my tone sharper than I intended. "I'm not heartless. I understand how she must be feeling...she's lost. Afraid. I get it."
He didn't move away. Instead, he stepped closer, the air between us thinning until I could feel the heat of his skin against my back.
"I'm not apologizing for her," he said quietly, and I froze mid-motion. "I'm apologizing for taking care of her when you were clearly aroused."
I dropped the spatula with a loud clatter. "Wha...what?"
My entire body went still. Heat flushed up my neck. The tiny kitchen suddenly felt too small, the walls pressing inward, his presence too vast to escape.
He leaned forward, his voice barely more than a breath against my ear. "You were aroused, Kash. And I left you alone. I should followed you to your room, taken care of you."
I gripped the counter, my knuckles white.
"That's not... I mean, it wasn't like that."
"Wasn't it?" he asked, his voice smooth, teasing now...but laced with something rawer. "Weren't burning from the inside out, Kash? And I let you go to bed like that. I should've..."
"Don't," I snapped. My throat was too dry to say more. The scent of him...salt and storm and something deeply male...was overwhelming. I wanted to drink it in, to bury my face in his neck and forget every logical reason to stay away.
But I couldn't.
"Do you want me to go away?" he asked, his voice laced with that ever-present trace of mischief, but there was something under it...something quieter, like a dare wrapped in longing.
I should've said yes.
The word hovered on the edge of my tongue, begging to be released, but it caught in my throat like a bone I couldn't cough out. My lips parted. Nothing came out.
"No?" he teased, his voice dipping lower, his breath fanning against my skin. His lips were dangerously close...close enough to steal the air right out of my lungs.
My heart drummed a frantic rhythm against my ribs. "Why are you doing this?" I asked, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.
"Doing what?" he asked, head tilting slightly, too innocent...deceptively so.
"Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about." My voice cracked with something rawer than anger...something that sounded an awful lot like want.
"I don't," he said, smiling. "I don't understand humans."
"Bullshit," I snapped. My eyes dropped to his mouth. Were his lips always this pink? This soft? This... maddening?
He chuckled...soft and amused...and I wanted to punch him or kiss him or both.
I placed my hand flat against his chest, fully intending to push him away, but instead... I stilled. He leaned into my touch, warm muscle meeting my palm with a familiarity that stole my breath. The lines of his body molded against me like memory, like instinct, like I was made to touch him.
My eyes fluttered shut as he tilted his head. His lips brushed mine...soft as a sigh, fleeting as a thought. A kiss so gentle it felt like a secret.
When he pulled back, my lips chased his without meaning to.
"I've decided to take up a job," he said.
"What?" I blinked, the fog of his absence unsettling. The cold air rushed in where his warmth had been. I tried not to sound disappointed. I failed.
"What job?"
"Diving instructor. I saw the listing in the newspaper this morning."
I heart jumped. "Are you insane? You're going to expose yourself. Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? Your skin, your eyes, your voice...none of it is normal, Delmar. Someone will notice. They'll alert the authorities. They'll take you. Experiment on you. I can't—no, absolutely not."
He placed his hands on my face.
"Kash," he said calmly, "it's going to be fine. I can handle it. I've worked with humans before."
"How will you prevent your legs from turning into fins?" I shot back, breath shallow.
"I have control over my body, Kash," he said with a lopsided grin. "You should know that better than anyone else."
I swallowed hard. Should I?
"Humans are easy to fool," he added with a shrug, like we weren't talking about risking his life.
I turned back to the stove, fumbling with the spatula, trying to pretend like crisping bacon was more important than the way my heart was currently breaking itself apart in slow, confused beats.
"What made you want to take up a job?" I asked, keeping my tone as even as I could.
He leaned against the counter beside me, voice low and unguarded. "I came here to make you mine... but I should've known it wouldn't be that simple. I don't want to just be a burden in your home. I want to earn my place. I want to belong."
"You don't have to change yourself for me. Or get a job. Or stay," I said quickly, almost angrily. "You have your own life, Delmar. A life in the sea. I don't get why you're so hell-bent on being here. On being with me. I am not..."
"You're not what?" he pressed gently, like he already knew the answer and wanted to prove me wrong.
"Good enough." My voice came out brittle. Honest.
His eyes didn't flinch. He just took my hand...his fingers cool, firm, reverent...and brought it close to his lips. He didn't kiss it. Just held it there.
"I wish you could see yourself the way I see you," he said softly. "But it's okay. I know your heart is tangled. I won't force you into anything you're not ready for. If you ask me to go...I will."
"No," I said, too quickly. "I never said that."
"I know," he murmured. "But if you do...I will."
"You're making my head hurt." I pulled my hand back, retreating into the only thing I had left, distance. His face flickered for a moment, pain flashing across it before he caught it with a tight-lipped smile.
"I'll go check on K'liira."
He turned and walked away.
I watched his back disappear down the hallway, and my arms ached with the absence of him. I wanted to run to him. To tell him that I felt more seen in his presence than I had in my entire life.
But that would be selfish, wouldn't it?
Because he was deluded.
And we were not meant to be. And maybe it was better to keep a safe distance than risk falling into something so deep, I might never come back up for air.
I left for the lab about an hour later, still reeling from the charged, confusing conversation with Delmar. My head wasn't entirely screwed on straight, and my emotions were trying to occupy both ends of the spectrum at once. Still, life went on, and I had to pretend to be normal. Functioning. Detached.
The drive to the facility passed in a blur. Houston's morning haze shimmered off car rooftops like the heat wanted to peel the sky itself. When I reached the lab, I scanned my entry card and stepped inside. The sterile scent of disinfectant and cool AC greeted me like a slap. Everything was so... normal in here. So cold.
As I walked toward my desk, I pulled out my phone and tapped out a message to Peter.
Did you find anything more about the cells? Last night was good. Thank you.
The second sentence was pure diplomacy. It cost me nothing but a few keystrokes, though I cringed while typing it. Moments later, his reply buzzed in.
Last night was good, wasn't it? 😏 Been thinking about you ever since. Can't wait to see that pretty face again.
That wasn't my question. I shot back.
I know what your question was. Sometimes I feel like you don't even like me.
I stared at the screen, lips thinning. Could he truly be that oblivious?
With a frustrated sigh, I dialed his number.
He answered after two rings, voice annoyingly cheery. "Hi, sexy. Missing me?"
"Yeah," I said dryly, shaking my head as I sat down at my workstation. Honestly, a man would have to be blind...or in severe denial...not to notice how checked out I was. "Did you find out more about the cells?"
"Look who's being the curious cat today," he teased, the smirk in his voice so audible I wanted to hang up.
"Peter," I warned, my tone sharp enough to cut through his nonsense.
He clicked his tongue, as if offended. "Alright, alright. Jeez. Don't get your lab coat in a twist."
I rolled my eyes. "Peter."
He exhaled dramatically. "Okay. So. This morning, the senior officials came in. Took all the cell samples. Even wiped the data from the shared drive. Poof. Gone."
"What?" I straightened in my chair. "Why?"
"I don't know. Maybe it was top secret or something. You know, government-funded hush-hush kind of stuff."
A cold unease crawled down my spine. That wasn't just "maybe." That sounded exactly like the kind of classified project I had no business getting close to but also the kind of project that might explain what they were planning to do with Delmar's kind.
"I want to meet again," I said, lowering my voice even though no one was around. "Tonight. After work. In your lab."
"In my lab?" he repeated, suspiciously intrigued.
"I find the sneaking around really... stimulating," I added with a deliberately sultry undertone, baiting him. If playing into his fantasies got me access to more information, so be it.
There was a pause. For a brief, hopeful second, I thought maybe...just maybe...he'd seen through the act.
But then he spoke.
"I never knew you could be such a naughty boy," he purred. "I can't wait to tame you, sexy."
I closed my eyes and counted to five.
Thank God for my strong gag reflex, because his voice alone could've made me vomit on my shoes.
Still, I kept my voice steady. "Text me when it's clear. I'll come by."
"Can't wait," he said, and the call ended with a smug chuckle.
I tossed my phone on the desk and exhaled sharply. My stomach churned with a familiar cocktail of guilt and revulsion. I didn't want to play this game. But something told me—whatever those cells were, whoever was hiding the truth—I needed to know. Before it was too late.
***
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