Clonely You (Sunrise Cantina #2)

Chapter 8

CHAPTER

EIGHT

AITHAR

“No Michaela, huh?” Erzah asks as he stirs noodles and veg in a skillet. He’s trying a new dish, one that Ruthie referred to as “stir-fry.”

I lean against the cantina’s kitchen counters, admiring how much has been done in the last month. Considering that we have had limited funds to get the cantina up and running—no one wants to ask Lord Straik for credits, not while his bank accounts are being watched by the Homeworld government in relation to his mother’s activities—we have done a good job with salvage. The cooktop that Erzah is using is from a cantina in Haal Ui that shut down. The oven and walk-in freezer units are both repairs from Jerrok that we purchased. The furniture, the bar, and the decor are all retrievals from scavenging or concepts that Ruthie, Ruth or Ruth-Ann came up with to remind the others of home. There’s even a tinkling bit of garbage that hangs out front called a “wind chime,” courtesy of my once-love, Melody.

It has all come together and Erzah could not be prouder of his creation. I am proud on his behalf, because I know how hard he has worked on this, and how much of his own credits he has invested. It reminds me a lot of Michaela, who has built herself a thriving butter business all with her own sweat and determination.

“Michaela is busy,” I tell Erzah. “I am disappointed, of course, because I wish she would be friends with my friends, but I understand. She has a great many orders to fill and wants to work on them.

“She could take a day off to spend with you, though.” He flips the noodles and veg in the skillet with an expert toss, and I wonder when he acquired that skill.

“I will be joining her after we’re done.”

He shoots me a knowing look. “For sex?”

I beam. “Always.”

Erzah shakes his head. “You are the luckiest.”

“I know.”

“I need to meet a female like that. One that craves my body and asks for nothing more.”

His words make me frown. Distracted, I eye the kitchen, and the steaming dishes that he’s preparing. Does Michaela want nothing from me other than my body? She told me that the very reason she wanted to go out with me was because she wanted the contact information for a bounty hunter.

Yet…she hasn’t asked.

Instead, we get together nightly. We kiss for a long time. She pleasures my body. We collapse, sated (at least, I am sated) on her bed and talk for hours. Sometimes we touch each other more, sometimes I make her food, but those evenings are the highlight of each day. I live for the hours I can spend with her. I want nothing more than to be at her side, constantly.

But she asks for nothing from me except my body. Even that, she does not require much of. She never pleasures herself using me. She kisses me and pets me, but when it comes to orgasms, they are all mine.

“She is a complex woman,” I admit to Erzah.

Erzah glances over at me, then flips the food again. “Oh?”

“She needs me for nothing but ‘fooling around’, as she calls it. Yet I want her to need me for more than that. My heart is hers, but she never asks me for anything. And it is difficult for me, because I want to give her everything.”

“Do you know what she wants?”

“I do.”

He stirs the food one last time and dumps it into a bowl. “Then get it for her. Perhaps she is afraid to ask.”

My eyes widen as I realize the truth of this. Before, Michaela refused to ask about the bounty hunter when we met everyone, because she didn’t want the others to tease me about her using me for information. She was protecting me. Is she protecting me even now? Is this why she doesn’t ask? Because she cares for me and wants to shield me even now?

I want to melt with happiness. She is such an amazing woman. I could do this for her without her even asking. I think of how happy it would make Michaela and imagine all the touches and joyous kisses she would give me.

“You are a genius, Erzah.”

“I am?” He leans over the food he just plated, eyeing it. “You think that mess is truly that appetizing?”

“I meant about Michaela.”

“Oh.”

We both eye the stir-fry and the noodles. They broke as Erzah fried them, and now bits of crunchy noodle are mixed in with the veg. All of it looks like a disaster.

“You want to try that?” Erzah asks.

“Perhaps…we have Ruthie try it,” I venture. “Or Dopekh. He will eat anything.”

As for me, I have a few comms to make before dinner tonight. I’m going to leave a message for Zebah and see what sort of price she’s asking for people finding these days.