Starflight (Starflight, #1)

“They probably seized his records during the investigation.”


“I guess that makes sense,” Doran said, and then sheets rustled in the background, along with the creaking of mattress springs. “It’s safe to turn around now, by the way.”

“Face the wall,” she told him.

“Why?”

“So I can admire the back of your head,” she said sarcastically. “Why do you think?”

“Oh, come on. I’ve seen you undressed.”

“That was when you were sleeping on the floor. Want to revisit that arrangement?”

He grumbled a few colorful words and flopped onto his side.

As soon as his back was turned, Solara wiped her clammy palms on the blanket and released a shaky breath. She’d dreaded this moment ever since they left the cave, where she’d awoken so wrapped up in Doran that she was literally on top of him.

He’d gloated about that, too.

She double-checked the bolt before turning off the light and shedding her pants. The sheets were warmer than usual when she slid between them, already gathering heat from the human “furnace” lying inches away from her. She felt his body radiating energy, not near enough to touch but too close for comfort.

“Scoot over,” she whispered.

The mattress shook with his movement.

“A little more,” she said.

“If I get any closer to the wall,” he hissed, “I’ll have to buy it dinner.”

She grabbed her pillow and wedged it between them. “There, that’s better.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“Of course I’m sure.”

“All right, then,” he whispered, and she could sense him smiling. “This time, try not to mount me in my sleep.”

She kicked him in the shin while her face went hot. “Keep joking, and I’ll make sure you don’t wake up in the morning.”

“Good night, Solara,” he crooned.

“Sleep tight,” she told him. “Way over there.”





Doran didn’t sleep with girls, not if he could help it.

Years of trial and error had taught him that dating was like chemistry: Some elements weren’t safe to mix—overnighters and fooling around, for example. Put those two together and expect “fun” to turn into “feelings,” right before it all blew up in your face.

But even he could get used to this.

Every morning for the past two weeks, he’d awoken to Solara’s bare arm draped over his chest and her breath caressing his skin. It didn’t matter how far he backed toward the wall. She would inevitably kick off the covers and gravitate toward him in nothing but a T-shirt and a pair of white cotton panties that looked surprisingly hot on her. When morning came, she’d blink awake and scowl at him, as if he’d chased her into a cuddle instead of the other way around. Then he’d smile and point at the vacant stretch of mattress behind her and tease, What’s wrong? Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed again? Which never failed to make her whole face turn red.

All in all, it was an excellent way to start the day.

He particularly enjoyed using the end of her braid to tickle her awake. This always earned him a smack on the chest, but it was worth it. And because today was a special occasion, she might not punish him.

Moving as little as possible, he reached behind the pillow to retrieve the end of her braid, then swept it down the middle of her face, holding in his laughter when her nose twitched like a rabbit’s. She groaned and scrubbed a fist over the spot before snapping awake and moving to strike.

He caught her hand in midair and said, “Remember what today is?”

She gasped, teeth flashing in an instant smile. “Shore leave!”

“That’s right,” he said, figuring it was safe to release her. “Not even you can be mad.”

Firing her usual glare, she scooted back to her own side of the bed and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “Unless we have to leave early, like on Pesirus. Then the whole crew is dead to me.”

“Hey, I did my part. Nobody’s looking for me here.”

Last week, Doran had placed a few strategic transmissions to his friends back home, telling them—after they’d sworn to secrecy, of course—that he was on his way back to Earth to hide out in his father’s lake house. He’d figured at least one of them would blow the whistle, and they had come through like champs. Now the Enforcers were scouring the wrong end of the galaxy for him, and hopefully Demarkus was, too. Captain Rossi had pulled a clever bait and switch of his own, using a fake ship name to schedule a cargo pickup at a planet called Cargill. And because the Daeva had no way of tracking them to the settlement, he’d awarded the crew a day of freedom. More than anything, Doran needed a temporary distraction from his worries. He’d been looking forward to this.

“So why are we still in bed?” Solara asked.

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