“Just a bit, it’s no—” I stop short when I meet his eyes, and instead of concern, see a self-satisfied smirk. Maybe even a hint of arousal in those sharp eyes. Is he proud of what he did to me? Does it turn him on to know that he’s marked me in this way?

  I back away from the K, the embarrassed heat in my cheeks becoming something more spiteful.

  “I know you can heal me,” I snap, taking another step back as he tries to move closer, dodging the hand that is reaching for me. “So will you please just do it?”

  I back up again, and hit the wall ass-first, making me gasp. In an instant, Navur is in front of me, caging me against the the wall, his broad body towering over me.

  “I could, but I want you to remember me every time you sit today. I want you wet every time you move and feel the pain of my possession. I want you to wear what I did to you everywhere you go.” I shiver as his fingers trail over my shoulder, curve down my sides, and cry out when he grabs my bruised ass, hard. “I want you to know who owns you, Noelle.”

  I force myself to hold his gaze, even as I blink back involuntary tears, even as my panties flood with desire at his rough domination. How is it that I can fear this dangerous man so strongly, yet still desire him enough to risk anything for a single touch?

  I don’t understand his twisted games. All I know is that so far, he’s winning.

  After a non-stop week of jet-setting and heavy petting, I finally have a couple days to chill out and catch my breath in Buffalo Creek. Not that I don’t appreciate all the gourmet meals and five-star penthouses, but it’s nice to have a moment to be the old Noelle again, to remember who I am under all this K drama, and what exactly I’m doing it for.

  Of course, it only takes a couple hours before Mom and Dad’s incessant rants about the K in town chase me out of the house. Apparently, while Navur has held up his agreement to keep from being seen with me around town, he hasn’t exactly been keeping a low profile. He’s been spotted at the coffee shop several times, at most of the nicer hotels in town (all two of them), and at the antique store down by the elementary school. That last one I suspect to be a figment of some excitable townie’s imagination. After all, I can’t picture Navur with a dainty vintage lamp in his bulky arms.

  Fleeing that sticky conversation, I instead catch up with Jo—who has somehow doubled in roundness already—over a Gavin-style breakfast of chocolate chip pancakes and dinosaur-shaped cauliflower nuggets. Lying to her is trickier than lying to my parents. Usually, my twin is the one I would confide to about the stuff I couldn’t tell them, and keeping a secret from her is uncharted territory. It doesn’t feel right, and I’m almost relieved when she has to run off to prenatal yoga.

  I wander the town for a little bit, unsure of what to do with myself on my first day off from my new job. Of course, whether my real new job is writing for Montrose or whoring myself out to Navur, even I don’t know. My feet carry me back to the library on autopilot. I hesitate at the doors for a moment, feeling like I’m chasing a shadow of myself, but shove my apprehensions aside and step in. The too-cold A/C and papery smell is like a hug from an old friend. Even if I spent only a few months working here, I frequented the public library often as a child, biking here with Jo on hot summer days when our parents were both working, me poring over glossy magazines while she reread Harry Potter for the millionth time. Again, I’m hit with the odd feeling that seems to be accompanying me everywhere today, tainting everything that was once so easily mine. I feel like an actor playing a part, the role of the Noelle I used to be, before all this shit happened. Before Navur happened.

  “Noelle!” Sabine hops up from her seat at the front desk, possibly producing the loudest sound ever heard in this building. Luckily, there’s no one but me around to hear her reedy voice echo down the stacks.

  “Hey, Sabine,” I reply at a more appropriate volume, crossing the lobby and reaching out for an awkward half-hug over the check-out desk. “I didn’t know you’d be here. You don’t usually work Tuesdays.”

  “I’ve had to pick up some extra shifts, after, you know,” the young woman shrugs at my abandonment, then quickly adds, “It’s fine though. I think I might be able to save up enough this summer to road trip to California after all.”

  “That’s awesome,” I say genuinely, grinning at the girl. “You would have so much fun out West.”

  “I know,” Sabine says, throwing her head back to stare at the ceiling for a moment, but I know she’s actually visualizing her real life, outside of Buffalo Creek, outside of West Virginia. I used to do the same thing all the time, before moving to New York.

  “Are you working all day?” I ask on a whim. On a subconscious level, I must still be craving female companionship. I can’t reach Ari, and I can’t talk to Jo. But Sabine? She isn’t close enough to be ruthlessly honest about her judgment of my questionable decisions, but she’s close enough to hear them out. “I’m just in town for a day or two, but I’d love to catch up.”

  Sabine beams. “Oh my god, of course! My lunch break starts in like thirty minutes. Want to hit up the deli, like old times?”

  “Perfect.”

  I meander around the library for a while, killing time while I wait for Sabine’s break to begin. Out of habit, I tidy up some messy shelves, then head to my old favorite spot, the magazine rack. I trail my fingers over glossy covers. There’s a familiar celebrity smiling brightly on every cover this month, with big taglines screaming about her recently exposed affair with a K.

  Ashley’s Hot Alien Bad Boy! Is She Endangering Her Fans?

  This Summer’s Hot Accessory: A K on Your Arm… And in Your Bed!

  10 Ways to Make This Summer Sex-traterrestrial!

  All of those magazines are shiny and untouched. Just my luck. K flings are suddenly in, and I’m having mine in one of the last places in the country that doesn’t give a shit. In New York or LA, I’d be the coolest bitch in town. Instead, the most worn issue on the rack is a trashy tabloid, with a Photoshopped image of a K clawing his way out of the cover, eyes glowing devilishly red.

  Krinar Savage Attacks Connecticut Family. Survivors Tell All!

  I snatch the magazine off the rack and surreptitiously stuff it into the nearest garbage bin. I don’t know why they stock this rag, anyway.

  “Ready?”

  Sabine pops up behind me, making me jump slightly. She grins broadly at me and adjusts her purse strap, not seeming to have noticed my destruction of property.

  “Ready!”

  We grab our old usual lunch of veggie subs at the deli down the street, and settle down on the library steps. Sabine slides the pickle out of her box and sets it in mine, and I hand over my potato chips. We chat companionably for a while, sipping on lemonade and dripping mustard on stained cutoffs. I give Sabine the edited version of my fancy new job, and she fills me in on all the latest library gossip. A cloud has just slipped in front of the midday sun, providing a welcome moment of reprise, when Sabine clears her throat meaningfully.

  “Noelle, can I ask you something?”

  “Shoot,” I say easily, expecting a softball question about apartment hunting for the first time, or making friends in a new city.

  “Is it you?”

  It’s a vague enough question, but it makes my heart stop, the half-masticated bite of bread and veggies turning to stone in my mouth. Is it me?

  I force myself to swallow and try to affect a nonchalant attitude I’m certainly not feeling. “What do you mean?”

  “The girl everyone is talking about, with the K,” Sabine clarifies, watching me closely. “I don’t mean to pry, but I realized that he’s always in town when you’re in town, and no one seems to see him around when you’ve been away. And you’re from New York, and you have that friend, who, you know, so…”

  She trails off, brow furrowed, trying to gauge my reaction. I’m doing my best to keep my face completely expressionless, as if my heart isn’t threatening to pound out of my chest.

  This is my chance, my chance to tell her. To come clean to someone, to get all this shit off my chest. To finally say out loud all the things that have been storming through my head. I wanted to tell her, I remind myself. But as I meet her wide, bright eyes, I know I can’t do it. She’s so young, with small town drama of her own to deal with, and a future wide open ahead of her. My life, my future is fucked up and dark and impossible. I can’t drag her into my shit. She doesn’t deserve my mess. It’s too much for her small shoulders.

  “Of course not,” I say with a scoff, hoping I sound more convincing than I feel. “God, that would be crazy. Just a weird coincidence, that’s all.”

  She looks at me for a beat longer, then nods in acceptance and takes another sip of lemonade.

  “Yeah, duh. That was dumb of me to even ask, just forget it.”

  I wave off her apology, wondering how long my nose will have grown by the end of the day.

  I quickly become accustomed to my new lifestyle. I mean, not like it’s that hard to get used to being pampered all day, then roughed up all night. Okay, I’m still having trouble with the latter. But the screaming orgasms are a hard argument to beat.

  When I finally get ahold of my so called ride-or-die, I’m about halfway through paying off my debt. Is it a debt if you never really asked for it?

  “Holy fuck, look who finally decided to pick up,” I say into the thin K tablet, unable to keep the enormous grin off my face.

  “Noelle!” Ari practically screams, the projected image of her face shimmering with delight. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, it’s been crazy out here. Lenkarda was a cakewalk compared to Krina. Oh, and I met Verit’s parents the other day, so that happened. But we can talk about my domestic bliss later, you’re the one who’s been texting me 911 for weeks.”

  I glance at my securely locked bedroom door, as if my parents might be camping out, eavesdropping on my phone calls like I’m an unruly teenager.

  “Remember that K I idiotically hooked up with a few months ago?” I ask, voice lowered. Ari’s eyes go big, and she nods emphatically, but bites back any immediate response. “Well…”

  I try to succinctly summarize the insanity of the past few weeks of my life, which proves impossible. Ari interrupts every two sentences with questions, tiny scandalized screams at the dirty parts, and dramatic eye rolls at any protest on my part.

  “It’s about damn time you got some kinky dick,” Ari says, grinning from ear to ear. “And from a K, no less. Who woulda thunk, little miss holier-than-thou Noelle, finally losing that stick up her ass in a big way.” My friend snickers at her joke, then gasps as she realizes what she just said, slapping her hands to her cheeks almost comically. “Wait, Noelle, have you guys—”

  “No!” I practically yell, then glance at the door again. My face has already gone unbearably hot. “Geez, Ari, I may be a tad sluttier these days, but I’m not that far gone.”

  Ari arches a brow, smirking coyly. “Hey, don’t knock it til you try it. The other day, V and I—”

  “Stop!” I cut my friend off for the second time, nearly tossing the tablet across the room. “I need a glass of wine or ten before that story. But do give me the PG-13 version of what you guys have been up to. What are his parents like? Are they super old? Does his mom hate you?”

  She gushes about her new life on Krina, and I take it in with a smile. I wish I could be genuinely, 100% happy, the way a good friend is supposed to be, but I’m struck with the same bittersweet pang I get when I see Jo and Brett, but this one cuts a little deeper, because it’s so unexpected. I don’t think either of us could have ever imagined that it would turn out like this, with self-proclaimed party girl Ari being the first to settle down, essentially married to her cheren, while I, the serial monogamist with a secret wedding vision board and a perpetually postponed five year plan, am still as single as it gets. Well, does being trapped in a sex pact with an alien make me more or less single? Where’s that Cosmo quiz when you need it?

  “Hey Ari?” I ask, struck by a sudden idea. “Can I get you to do me a favor?”

  “Of course, what’s up?”

  As I lay out my last-minute plan, Ari’s eyes narrow nearly imperceptibly, and her grin droops at the corners.

  “Noelle…” She says when I’m done, sighing my name out as if I’m a small child who just doesn’t understand.

  “What?” I ask, instinctively annoyed. “Just say it.”

  “Are you sure you’re not getting too caught up?” my best friend asks, in a gentle voice that I resent more than if she’d just be mean about it. “I mean, you’ve never been in a casual relationship like this before, maybe you don’t really—”

  “I know what I’m doing,” I snap. “Besides, that’s a lot, coming from the girl who literally made an eternal commitment to her slam piece.”

  Ari purses her lips, but doesn’t argue. We sit quietly for a moment, and I take a deep breath, soothing my irritable nerves. I don’t know when I’ll get a chance to talk to Ari again, so I can’t fuck this up. Besides, she has a point. She’s certainly more familiar with these troubled waters than I am. But she doesn’t know everything, she’s probably just projecting her own situation onto me. Just because her Krinar games ended in a happily-ever-after doesn’t mean that mine will. Not that I even want them to.

  “I’m sorry,” I say softly. “You’re right, I’m a little out of my depth here. But I swear, that’s not what this is about. I just want to do something nice, make my remaining time a little more enjoyable. Once our thirty days are up, that’s it, I’m done. You know better than anyone that this isn’t me. This is just a little blip, something I got stuck with. After this, it’s back to boring guys you totally hate, I promise.”

  “If you say so,” Ari says hesitantly. “Just be careful, Noelle.”

  “Of course,” I say, pasting on a confident smile. “Now, can you help me or not?”

  Ari matches my smile. “I’ll ask Verit, see what we can do.”

  I thank her, then she has to go. I set the thin tablet aside and collapse back into my bed, the memory of my best friend’s harsh warning slowly creeping over me, shadowing the joy at finally seeing her face again. What if she’s right? What if I’m letting myself fall a little too deep into the abyss I know contains nothing but trouble?

  I sigh loudly and sit back up. I meant everything I told her. This is fine. I’m fine. Everything will be fine.

  Right?

  Ari and Verit pull through. The next time we’re in Manhattan, I coyly make an excuse to sneak off and “run some errands.” It takes a bit of prodding to get Nav to let me go out and about without him, but finally he concedes, as long as I take his car and driver.

  Our first stop is at a townhouse on the Upper East Side. From the outside, the brick building looks exactly the same as the row of homes that stretches down the block. But when the door opens and the tall K lets me in, the interior is decked out exclusively in beige and chrome K floats and tech. My mouth falls open a little, but I try to keep my composure. Navur doesn’t seem to have a permanent address on this planet, we always stay at fancy, but distinctly human, hotels. The juxtaposition of such an alien home hidden in plain view is a little mind boggling.

  “Here,” the beautiful K woman says, reemerging into the living area with a small metallic box, which she hands to me. “You’re lucky I still had some on hand, I was saving these for a rainy day.”

  “Oh, I hate to inconvenience you,” I say quickly, trying to hand the box back. “You don’t have to—”

  “No, no,” she insists, sharp red lips curving into a conspiratorial grin. “Verit said you were doing a favor for your cheren. I think it’s cute.”

  “Oh, he’s not…” I begin, cheeks pinking, then decide that it’s probably unnecessary to delve into the nitty gritty with this kind stranger. “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

  Next, I have the driver (Maybe I ought to learn his name by now, considering all the time we’re spending together lately, but he seems rather disinterested in my company) take me across the city, all the way back to Max’s. I probably should’ve called ahead to make sure his Baba was free and willing to help out, but it’s too late now. I’m all in. Max is hesitant at first to let me rope his Baba into my nonsense—the hulky driver hovering over my shoulder probably doesn’t help—but when said driver slides a couple hundred dollar bills across the counter, Max caves.

  Upstairs, after the necessary amount of small talk over tea, I lay out my intentions to Baba. I take the small box out of my purse, and cautiously open it. I’d been afraid to peek in before, but the small brown mushrooms inside don’t look any more threatening than the shiitake mushrooms you’d find at Kroger. Other than the shiny, nearly glowing golden veins that criss cross over the dried, gnarled caps, that is.

  “Are these drugs?” Baba hisses, her soft accent sharpening on the last word.

  “No!” I say quickly, although to be honest, I’m not exactly sure myself. “They’re just regular mushrooms, like what you usually use, but from Krina. The planet the Ks are from.”

  “Hmm,” the old woman lifts the box gingerly to her face, and sniffs. Seemingly satisfied, she stands. “Very well. Only because you are Max’s friend.”

  I grin widely, more thrilled than I would have expected to be. I follow Baba to her small kitchen, and watch as she boils water, and begins to soak the mushrooms.

  “I can help, if you want,” I offer, shifting awkwardly on my feet in the doorway.

  “You will only get in the way,” Baba says bluntly, heaving a giant bag of rice from a cupboard.

  So I wait in the musty living room, fooling around on my phone and indulging in big whiffs of the pleasant smells billowing out of the kitchen. Finally, about an hour later, Baba reemerges and hands me a thin plastic tray. I take it, marveling at how deceptively mundane the rolls look in their cheap plastic box. If a stranger took this from the fridge downstairs, they’d probably never realize that the small brown chunks wrapped in rice are not of this planet.

 

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