9. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

Myles

M idnight stargazing was totally a thing normal people did.

Sometimes though, my house felt too claustrophobic, and I needed the fresh air. But I'd always been more of a night person. Maybe that was what had drawn me down my sci-fi rabbit hole at an early age and got me into writing this alien fuckery. But I'd always loved the stars and the night sky, and they'd remained my familiar companions.

Some people found the night a little lonely, but it was there I found peace.

I tugged on the blanket around my shoulders, the concrete of the balcony ground cool beneath me. The second-floor balcony lay off the study, and I'd escaped here many times since I'd moved in. My folks had one of those one-story houses where the roof had been easy access. I used to climb up there a lot in high school when I wondered what the fuck was wrong with me.

Turned out nothing was—well, that was a lie, since I was a hot mess on my best day—but I'd just been in the wrong body.

Books had saved my life back then. Reading about a trans guy in one of my favorite YA sci-fi series was the connection that opened my eyes like nothing else. I'd researched like a fiend, and Mom and Dad had been supportive as fuck when I wanted to try out testosterone and puberty blockers. The rest was history. Not all smooth sailing, but hell, nothing in life was.

But one thing remained the same—the stars above, crystalline and gorgeous, beaming at me like the whole world was filled with promise. I tipped my head back so it bumped against the brick wall behind me. The chilly breeze cooled my cheeks, but the blanket around me kept me warm and toasty, and I wouldn't be moving for a while.

A rap sounded on the slider door behind me. Avery stood there in a tight black tank top and short shorts that revealed so much delicious skin. God, she was so fucking hot it was ridiculous.

The slider door creaked open the slightest bit. "Want company?"

I glanced up. "Sure. Just grab a blanket. It's cold out here."

She stepped back in and emerged a second later with one of her blankets, a fluffy black one that looked comfortable. She plunked down right beside me, a habit of hers I secretly loved. Her scent drifted my way, sharpened by the breeze, lemongrass and cedarwood I had fast become addicted to. The blanket draped around her shoulders like a cape, but she stretched her bare legs out in front of her, miles of skin highlighted by the moon. Her glossy chestnut strands drifted in front of her features, slightly obscuring them.

"You do this often?" she asked.

"Whenever the mood strikes. I can sit out here for hours."

"In silence? I'd go crazy not talking for that long."

"I don't mind if you do," I said absently, not realizing what I admitted. Even if it was the damn truth. Most people drained me, but her chatter glided over my skin like water, soothing me.

Avery's breath hitched, and she licked her lips, the gloss there making me want to reach over and trace them with my thumb or tongue. Better for someone bolder—not me.

"‘ Il y a des jours, des mois, des années interminables où il ne se passe presque rien. Il y a des minutes et des secondes qui contiennent tout un monde.' "

Avery's words came out like liquid, and even though I didn't have the slightest clue what she'd just said, I was transfixed.

"Now, what does that mean?"

"It's a quote from Jean d'Ormesson," Avery said, tugging at the blanket around her shoulders. "That there are interminable days, months, years where almost nothing happens. There are minutes and seconds that contain an entire world."

My throat bobbed with my swallow. Those words suffused my skin with a magnitude I wasn't prepared to face yet, like the crystalline distance of the stars and the enormity of all that expanse out there. The more I learned about Avery, the more obsessed I became, to the point nothing else existed.

I knew in my bones this moment was one my mind would return to years later. The immensity of it brimmed inside me, and I could barely contain these feelings.

"When did you learn French?" I asked because I couldn't find a way to communicate what a gift her words were.

"My grandparents on my mom's side were from France, Nouvelle-Acquitaine region, so I wanted to learn the language to speak with them. I took it all through school too, and with the extra usage, I've been fluent for a while. Not that I get many opportunities to use it anymore."

"Did they pass?" I asked, my skin prickling at the mention. I hadn't been close to any of my grandparents except for my grandmother, who'd owned this house, and as much as I joked about her, I still missed her random rants about raccoons, the way she couldn't cook but tried anyway, and her off-kilter walk.

"It's been five years for my grandfather and a few since my grandmother did," Avery said. "But they left behind good memories."

"That's all we can hope for, I guess, right?" The stars twinkled a little brighter now, the intense light surrounded by immense dark. Truth be told, apart from my stories, I didn't know what legacy I'd leave behind. What imprints I'd make on the world when I was no longer walking it. A sudden yearning struck me in a fierce way.

I'd been cycling in my comfort lane for far too long, afraid to go out and try with others, but this connection with Avery was a reminder. Maybe some people would remember the stories in my books, and maybe they wouldn't. But they might remember sitting outside on this balcony together and looking at the stars.

The idea of being a permanent memory—even for a single person—was so immense, so consuming that I could barely process it. Yet I craved it with every ounce of me, all the same.

"Why are you so easy to talk to?" Avery said, a wondering note in her voice that had my heart skipping a beat. The heat from our bodies kept me warmer than the blanket around my shoulders.

I swallowed hard, my throat making an audible click. "I'm pretty sure ninety-nine percent of the population would disagree with you there. Besides, you're good at talking to everyone."

Avery shrugged. "I might be, but that doesn't mean I connect with just anyone. With a lot of folks, I have to bounce from topic to topic to keep the conversation flowing. I don't have that issue with you."

"Probably because by the time conversations get to me, they die." I leaned hard on the humor to mask the way my heart slammed against my rib cage, how it filled my ears so I was aware of Avery's leg almost brushing mine, her gorgeous eyes staring at me with curiosity. My mouth was dry with want, but I didn't know how to proceed without sending this fragile moment clattering to shards on the ground.

"Except your silences hold just as much weight as your words." She fixed me with a pointed look.

She saw right through me in a way that made me shiver. My mind got dizzy from the realization. I kept myself so walled off from people, but the moment she showed up on my doorstep and we started talking for real, I'd melted in her presence like ice in hot tea. Somehow she was easier to talk to than people I'd known for decades. Most times I didn't mind being a recluse, having few friends, and seeing my folks on occasion.

But around Avery, feeling the comfort her presence offered even when we didn't talk, made me crave it more. It made me think relationships, partners, things I'd relegated to fantasy only.

Our gazes met.

This time, neither of us glanced away.

Her pulse had quickened, clear by the flutter in her throat, and her blue eyes were wide as she stared at me like I was the only thing in existence. Like even the majesty of the stars in the sky fell paltry in comparison. Or maybe I projected because that was damn sure the way I felt about her. She licked her lips, a slow glide of her tongue over her bottom one. Heat flushed through me. This close, I drowned in her scent, the delicate notes heightening my awareness.

Inches separated us, and it would be so easy to lean in the short gap between us and claim her lips. To taste and consume everything this beautiful, bright person was. My skin blazed, hot and sensitized, and my breaths came out a little faster. She continued to watch me with an unvarnished look in her eyes, but whether it was longing or curiosity, I couldn't tell. All I knew was that it made me ache, made my core throb, and made my heart thump hard.

Maybe for a few moments I didn't have to be timid. Maybe I could be brave.

I leaned forward.

The ring of a cell phone broke through the quiet, shattering the moment.

Avery fumbled beneath her blanket to snag the phone from her pocket and turn it off. "Fuck, that's extra loud right now."

My heart still thumped fast, moving in overtime after the almost kiss. A few moments more, and I might've tasted those lips, but at what cost? Having Avery in my life, in my home was worth maintaining distance for. Her presence here was enough, even if I craved more with every comfortable conversation, every simple touch, every heavy look.

"How the fuck did you fit your phone into your shorts?" I asked. With how high they rode up her thighs, I was mystified.

"I altered some shorts from the men's section, so pockets. Gotta get creative when you're trans."

"Preach." I lifted a hand. "The hunt for a decent pair of pants that would comfortably fit my hips and my packer early days was a beast. Since I've been on T, my hips have slimmed out a lot, but I still struggle to find clothes."

"Shopping trip?" Avery asked, her eyes sparkling.

I wrinkled my nose. "I hate shopping."

"Boo, you wouldn't even go for me?" She batted her lashes, and I rolled my eyes.

"You'd have better luck getting me out clubbing, and I'm allergic to crowds."

Her grin was wicked. "It's a deal."

My spine straightened, and I tugged the blanket a little harder around me like a shield. "What's a deal?"

"You, me, club night. Let's say this week?" Her blanket all but dangled around her shoulders, the shadows highlighting the sensual slopes of her body.

"Did I miss a memo somewhere?" I asked, my brows drawing together. "When did I ever agree to go clubbing?"

"When you said you'd rather do that than shop." Her grin revealed teeth, and I couldn't help but be charmed by her cleverness. "So, you'll go with me, right? Won't leave me all by my lonesome."

I arched a brow. "You know, the whole innocent and winsome routine isn't going to work on me. I'm well aware you're neither of those things. But also, you wouldn't want me with you. I'd cramp your style. I wouldn't want you to feel like you're babysitting me, and I'm a terrible dancer."

"My sweet summer child, it's a goth industrial club filled with geeks who don't have rhythm. Zero expectations there. Plus, you don't need to do much except stand there looking sexy and let me dance all up on you." Heat licked through her gaze, and that did me in.

There was no way I could turn down the idea of getting into her space, even if I had to brave actual crowds to do it.

"Fine." I scrubbed my palms over my face, already regretting the yes. When I looked up, Avery did an adorable fist pump, and my heart tripped over itself.

"The next night is in two days. Think you can put the muse on pause for an evening?" Avery knocked her bare knee against mine, and the electricity that traveled through my veins was all the convincing I needed.

"Muses don't work that way," I muttered and heaved an overdramatic sigh. "Okay, I'm in."

"Good." In the dark, her eyes were sinful, the cocky curve of her lips alluring. I'd never given much thought to a type, but Avery was perfect in every way, better than my imagination could've concocted. "Hope you're ready to get up close and personal on the dance floor."

Holy fuck.