Dating an Alien Pop Star
Page 35
That night, I settle as best I can into the little room that I’ve been assigned. Five different aliens have knocked at the door in just the last hour or so, checking on me and asking if I need anything. One of them was kind enough to drop off some fresh fruit to me, though I haven’t been able to find my appetite enough to actually sample any of it.
Griffin’s been gone since just after his speech; according to Devon, he had a lot of important meetings to attend with his father, catching up on what had happened while the boys were gone. A near uprising by way of alien terrorists and an evil fiancée leads to a lot of extra security precautions and such.
For the first time since arriving, I wonder and worry if maybe I’ve made a mistake. I don’t regret telling Griffin’s dad to bring me here, and I look forward to spending more time with Griffin, but knowing that I’m cut off from home is a little scary.
What if I have a bad reaction to the food here? What if I’m allergic to something in the atmosphere? What if the aliens start to hate me for some reason? What if I really, really, really want to listen to Arcade Fire, or the Twilight Sad?
A knock at the door stirs me from troubled thoughts, but I don’t bother getting up to answer it. “I’m fine!” I say. “Everything’s fine; thank you!”
“May I come in?”
Oh, it’s Griffin.
I leap off the bed without hesitation, crossing the small room in a fraction of a second and yanking the door open. My alien’s still wearing his spiffy, black uniform from earlier, but now, his hair’s all messy on one side and flat on the other, as if he’s spent a lot of time in a windy climate.
“Hello,” he says, and I throw my arms around his neck, dragging him into the room and kicking the door shut behind him. “Did you miss me, Wanda?”
“No. But I’ve been dying for a closer look at this sexy uniform for most of the day.” I plant a firm and claiming kiss on his lips, and then let my hands drop to the black, double-breasted military-style jacket he’s wearing. “This is very rock ‘n’ roll. I like it.”
“I always thought it was terribly boring, but I’m glad you like it.”
“I like it enough to want to take it off you immediately. Or, rather, to take off a few necessary pieces and leave the rest. I’m not too picky.” I lean in and kiss him again. This time, it's the kind of kiss where you both tilt your heads into it and forget what planet you’re on. He responds with a happy, buzzy noise from deep within his throat. It’ll probably take more than my few weeks of alien exile to get used to all the weird things he can do and sounds he can make.
Griffin breaks our kiss long enough to trace his lips up my jawline to my ear. “You’re worried about not being able to go home, aren’t you?” he whispers.
“Well, my mom. And my stuff. And… I dunno. Yeah.”
“I think I know something that would make you feel more at home.”
For a second, I think he’s acting all sultry with me again, maybe planning to shove me on the bed and do unspeakable things, but instead, Griffin lets me go, opens the door, and disappears from sight.
Wow, okay. Nice. I’ve been abandoned by my alien pop star boyfriend.
Griffin reappears in the doorway, dragging a huge bag behind him. He hauls it into my room and closes the door once again, turning around to grin at me.
“Hmm, look what I found in here,” he says, opening the bag and fishing around a bit. He withdraws something that looks both familiar and out of place all at the same time. It takes me a few blinks to process what I’m looking at.
“Jagger?”
“You seemed rather disappointed to leave him behind,” Griffin says, handing my teddy bear to me.
It’s never really been a point of pride to admit to being almost thirty years old and still owning a teddy bear, but I’d certainly never pictured revealing the existence of Jagger to a… well, a guy.
Griffin’s face is open and bright-eyed, however, and no hint of derision shadows his features.
“How…?” I ask finally, hugging Jagger close to my chest. “I thought we couldn’t go back right now because of the doors or whatever.”
“Well,” Griffin says, holding a finger up to his lips, “Don’t tell anyone, and I won’t. How about that?”
“Did you go back?”
“Only a quick trip—no one has to know. I thought you might like to have a few of your belongings while you’re here. Brought some of your clothes while I was at it. Wanted to bring your music, but hauling a record player through a half-shut dimension door on a secret mission was a bit too much even for me.”
Tears spring to my eyes, leaving me both embarrassed and pleased beyond all belief. “Thank you, Griff. Thank you so much…”
“Still couldn’t find David Bowie,” Griffin says.
“That’s fine,” I say, and I proceed to smother him in kisses. “We’ll just go back soon and track him down. How about that?” The room tints gray, with glittering, silver flashes falling around us. “I have some bad news for you, though.”
“Bad news?”
“David Bowie’s not really an alien, no matter how weird and cool he is. He doesn’t walk through space for his girlfriend or change the color of the room when he’s happy. He’s just a boring old human like me.”
“Then he must be quite extraordinary, if he’s anything like you.” Griffin loops his arms around me, letting one of his hands drape shamelessly over my butt. “But I think even the great David Bowie can’t compare to my Wanda Kirkwood.”
“That was stupid and cheesy, but you look so good in this jacket that I don’t mind too much. Plus, you brought me Jagger. And some clothes.”
“Well, I couldn’t very well leave all of my clothes behind, either,” Griffin says, crouching down to rummage through the bag until he retrieves that horrid, fuzzy, purple sweater. Of course.
Somehow, I’ve never been happier to see it.
Book #2, Engaged to an Alien Pop Star is available today! Get your copy now!