Alien Tango

field.”
    “What is it you think I do?”
    Chuckie grinned. “I think you’re the recently appointed head of Airborne for Centaurion Division. You’re doing a great job, too. My people are very impressed.”
    “Do your people report to Leventhal Reid?”
    His eyes flashed. “That asshole? No, we don’t. Why, do you think I’ve become anti-alien or joined Club 51 after all this time?”
    “No. I don’t know. No one knows what I do.” I felt panicked for reasons I couldn’t name.
    He stroked my arm. “Stop. I’m not here to hurt you or threaten you. I’m happy to recruit you, if I can, but I didn’t come for that, either.”
    “Why did you come then?”
    He slid his hand up my arm, over my shoulder, up my neck, along my jaw to my chin. He drew my face to his and kissed me.
    It wasn’t a kiss like Martini’s, but it wasn’t bad, either. Honestly, it wasn’t bad at all, bordering on pretty darned great. And unlike Brian’s, Chuckie’s kiss made me respond. He drew away from me slowly. “I came for you.”
    Rebound relationships are never wise. Rebounding from one guy to another within the space of the same day not only wasn’t wise but put a girl high up in the running for Slut of the Decade. I knew this, and yet I found myself okay with the fact that Chuckie had just kissed me. As long as I didn’t allow myself to think about kissing Martini, I was fine with it.
    “This seems sort of sudden.”
    “No. I’ve been in love with you since ninth grade.” Again, said so calmly.
    “You never said.”
    “I needed your friendship more. If I’d told you, I’d have lost you.” He stroked my neck. I tried not to react and failed. He gave me a half-smile. “This still make you sing?”
    Vegas was coming back to me in full force. It had been pretty great, and my brain raced through the quick comparisons and confirmed what I’d registered in Florida—there hadn’t been a human male of my experience who’d been as good in bed as Chuckie. My brain also shared that part of why I’d been single and available when I’d met Martini was that I’d been waiting for someone to actually be better than Chuckie before I made a real commitment.
    I forced myself not to make the comparison. No human could win against Martini, so why compare them to him? Besides, Chuckie was right on a spot that turned me into a puddle. “No,” I lied.
    He gave me a slow smile and bent toward me. I wanted to move away but didn’t. His tongue stroked where his fingers had been, just for a few moments, while I gasped, and I just sat there, staring at nothing as his mouth moved up my neck. “Jeff, not here—”
    Chuckie pulled away from me. “Jeff, huh? So I’m competing with Jeff Martini. Interesting.” He took a drink of his beer. I got the impression he was confirming what he knew or suspected, as opposed to discovering.
    “Why would you think that’s who I meant?” My voice was stilted.
    He grinned. “You’re a Commander. Who would you be dating, one of the grunts? I’ve seen Martini and White. They’re both your type.” He took another drink. “Why’d you pick Martini? I’d have put my money on White.”
    I did not want to have this conversation, to the point where I unfroze and stood up. “Great seeing you.” I knocked my chair over, but managed to get away from the table without any other damage. The room was filling up, but I didn’t particularly care.
    I got out to the hallway when a man’s hand grabbed my arm. Chuckie spun me and pulled me into his arms. “Stop running.”
    “This is a really bad time for this, okay? Yes, we just broke up. Not exactly the perfect timing, sorry.”
    “Better than having to fight him for you. I probably couldn’t win.” He had his arms around me, but he wasn’t holding me so hard that it was frightening. But I was scared anyway.
    “Chuckie, why are you doing this? This isn’t like you. You’re not acting like I’m used to.” Wow, I’d had a similar conversation with Martini only hours before. Today officially sucked beyond all other rotten days.
    Before he could answer, my phone rang. I pulled out of his arms and got it out. “Hello?” Silence. “Hello.” Nothing. The caller hung up. I looked—not a number I recognized, but certainly local.
    “Who was that?” Chuckie asked me.
    “Wrong number, I guess. Look, can we just agree that you’re not going to be amorous right now? I can’t take it.”
    “That bad?”
    “No, honestly, pretty good.