Mixed Feelings (Empathy in the PPNW Book 1) (17 page)

“Yes, which means I practice
sex a lot. Practice makes perfect. And then, once I became perfect, I kept having
sex.” Loading the pans and the few glass bowls he’d emptied into his
dishwasher, he waved a hand as if everything had been explained and there were
no more words.

“Practice on one woman,
maybe. Practice on many is like…” I had to pause to think of a good analogy.
Mel let me, seemingly convinced I had no argument he couldn’
t deflect.
“
It
’s like building a lot of
different things out of wood—” He paused in loading the dishwasher long
enough to shoot me finger-guns. “But never focusing on one. You never get good
at making birdhouses if you’ve made one birdhouse and thirty-five other
objects.”

“Bird hotel, bird ski chalet,
bird liquor store.”

I spoke over him, refusing to
let him derail my point by making me laugh. “
My point
is that all women
are different. We all like different things, especially in bed.”

With the counter cleared of
plates and bowls, Mel grabbed a rag, ran it under hot water, squirted some soap
on it, and started cleaning.

Sitting in a
silent
haze of wine and pizza and surprisingly enjoyable
conversation, I watched him work. I swear my eyes only drifted to the way his
muscles moved once or twice. Or, like, four or five times, but it was all the
wine, I swear. Good sense passed out in the corner, and all that.

 
When the island was clean of pizza
debris, Mel turned to work on the stove and spoke with his back to me.

“I take it your argument has
been made? No more animal-home-related analogies to throw my way?”

I shrugged, then realized he
couldn’t see it
.
“
Yeah, I
’ve made my point. You’
re good at stuff; I
’ll give you that. Cooking
pizza is a stuff you’re good at
,
but that doesn’t make you a
sex expert.”

“It doesn’
t
make
me one, no,” he admitted, starting in on the
other counters closer to the sink. “But it helped get me what I needed to become
one.”

“
Ladies,
” I stated, leaning a hip
against the counter. After all the wine, I
wasn
’
t quite
answering his questions with, “I love you, man!” but
my motor skills had definitely taken a hit. Mel finished cleaning the
kitchen
, draped the rag over a bar
mounted to the inside of the bucket sink so it could dry
,
and then turned to face me. Planting the heels of his hands on the
counter, he leaned back.

“Lots of ladies,” he said.

“And how many ladies have you
slept with, uh.
..
” I paused, realizing my
brain had gone even fuzzier and I had no idea what day of the week it was.
Giving up, I waved a hand. “
Last week.
”

“
Let
’s see.” His eyes squinted a bit and I watched the fingers of his left
hand twitch, as if he were counting in his head and didn’t realize his digits
were helping. It was kind of adorable. Finally, he looked me in the eyes and
said, matter-of-factly, “
Twelve.
”

“
Good god,
” I exclaimed. “That’
s
—that can’t be right.”

“It was a good week!”

“So that’s not normal?”

“No, that’s about normal. It
was just a
good week.
”

“
Holy hell,
”
I
said.
“
My god!
” I couldn’t believe it. I knew he had no reason to
lie but I
still
couldn’t believe
it. That meant he slept with scores of women a month, which meant… “Have you
not gone through the entire eligible population of Seattle yet?”

“
Well, I don
’t just date women in this
city, you know.” He seemed offended by the implication.

“But still! How the hell do
you even have time for that?”

Tipping his head down to look
at me through his lashes, he raised a brow and grinned devilishly.
“How much time do you think each encounter takes
, anyway?
”

Imm
ediately I felt my cheeks go red. I hadn’t meant to
imply what I’
d
practically made it my life’s
work to question
.

“
It
’s not even the sex
itself
,
” I
spat, my tone petty as I tried to regain my cynicism about his technique. “How
many women can you even seduce in a day?”

“Like you said, women are
shallow and I am…” He paused, but went with my word, putting emphasis on it. “
Pretty.
”

“Is it a werewolf pheromone?
Do you put off something that makes a woman’s undergarments run for the hills?”

“
Do I?
”

Frowning, I looked him up and
down. All I ever felt around him was annoyance and aggravation. I couldn’t
imagine just seeing him and going, “All right, let’s make with the humping.”
But other women were probably less uptight than me. And also couldn’t feel how
skin-crawlingly
annoying it was to just be
near him.

Mel let me inspect him. After
a moment, I lifted a hand, quirking a finger to beckon him. Giving his
shoulders a loose roll as if preparing for a fight, he pushed away from the
counter. I only noticed then that he was barefoot, too. I ignored the fact
that, for some reason, I found it really sexy to see his feet peek out from
under his pants, and I twisted my hand. When he got close, I put the flat of my
palm out; he stopped just before his shirt touched my skin and looked down at
me.

“
Don
’t try anything funny,”
I
warned.

I lifted onto my toes, giving
his neck a light sniff. Tipping his mouth near my ear, he whispered in a tone
that not even the straightest man would fail to find sexy, “If I try something,
it won't be laughter that has you out of breath.”

I grinned, staying put long
enough that he wouldn’t see it. After a moment, I dropped flat to my feet
again,
circling
him. He stayed perfectly
still as I
tried
to see if I could detect
some sort of sex-causing scent anywhere on his body. His neck, cheek, the backs
of his shoulder blades—while all very nice to look at—
didn
’t seem to smell like anything except…
Mel.

“
Hunh,
” I grunted in confusion. I
stared at the back of his neck for a moment, fought my somewhat drunken urge to
run my hands through his hair, and moved back around to face him. He watched
me,
seeming
pleased that he
was worth my inspection. I reminded myself that without
Merrin
’
s magic
necklace
,
I wouldn’t have set foot in the house, let alone be
considering his well-shaped body and how he used it to get a woman into bed.

“You just smell like you. And
kind of like pizza, but that might be the kitchen.”

“You smell a little tipsy.
And a little like lilac.” Pausing, he wrinkled his nose slightly, then added
,
“
A
nd rose.”

I stared up at him, very
aware that at any moment things could get biblical. While Mel didn’t move or
physically indicate what he was feeling, I could see it in his eyes. If, in
that moment, I chose to kiss him, or—
as Chloe had
suggested so many
times—tried to climb him like a tree, he wouldn’t have been opposed to
it. I stayed flat on my feet, inches away.

“
Well,
”
I drawled.
“Your sense of smell is better than mine. I can’
t smell
your
perfume.
”

Sensing that I’d broken the
moment in two and tossed it out the window,
Mel grinned.
He
stepped around me and headed toward the living room. I
sighed out the tension that had built and caught a glimpse of the clock on the
wall; it was telling me it was way later than I had realized.

“
Wow.
”

“Looking at my ass again?”
Mel
asked, moving to the music cabinet, jiggling the
mouse around on its tray.

“I didn’t realize how late it
is. We should probably go. I hadn’t planned on being out this long.”

“Stay here,” he said
,
and the music stopped. My heart started thudding
suddenly, apparently desperate to make up for the silence that had once again
gone and gotten itself stuffed with tension. I swallowed audibly.

Mel and I made eye contact,
watching each other across the empty room. After my eyeballs had been
satisfactorily seared by the blue of his gaze, he continued, his tone
dismissive
.
“
It
’s not worth it to drive you home this late.”

I opened my mouth, intent on
arguing, but no words came to mind. I wasn’t even sure why I wanted to pick a
fight; was I angry that he wouldn’t take me home or that his wanting me to stay
was based purely on
laziness
?

Mel pressed on as if I wasn’t
watching him slack-jawed and confused. “There are plenty of blankets if you’
re cold,
but the fire will burn for a few more hours. The
heater
—
” he moved to a small panel
on the wall near the hallway,
“—
is controlled here.”

“That’
s
…
okay.
”

“What?” he asked, catching my
eye with another net weaved of
invitation
and lust
.
“Were you looking to share my bed?”

“
Not
… usually.” What had I just said?

“There you have it, then. I
have to be up in a few hours and, since I’m guarding your body, so do you.”

“
Gotcha,
” I said slowly. Mel walked directly toward me,
diverted at the last
second
,
and brushed his bare arm by
mine as he
locked
the back door. Once he’d
turned the lights off and the only illumination came from a small lamp next to
the couch, he paused next to me. His arm was pressed against mine, both of us
staring into the living room. I dropped my gaze to the floor, waiting to see
what was about to happen.

“You sure there’s nothing
else I can…
do
for you?” He was giving me
an opening
,
but I wasn’t convinced I
should give him one back.

“
No.
” I took a deep breath. “The wine will help me sleep and I’m sure I can
find the blankets on my own.”

“All righty.” Without another
word
, Mel
disappeared around the wall;
I was left alone in the living room, pondering my life decisions.

Chapter Thirteen

I woke with a massive
headache and a sore knee.

The combination of wine, a
fireplace, a heated room
,
and too many blankets had
shot my body temperature straight through the roof. Groaning, I lifted my face
off the cushion, trying to figure out where I was and what I’d done the night
before. I had vague, floating visions of pizza, and of getting very close to
Mel.

The room was bathed in gray
winter light and I stared at the wall between the living room and the hallway,
wondering if I’d made the walk of shame from there to the couch at some point
in the evening. Adjusting my leg, which was hanging off the wall-spanning couch
from just above the knee, I did my best to sit up. My calf had gone mostly numb
but my knee felt like Kathy Bates had been at it during the night.

Steeling myself, I got to my
feet and hobbled toward the hall. I used the walls for support when I rounded
the corner and made my way toward Mel’s room. The door was ajar and I saw a
light on inside. The end of the night crystallized in my brain.

“
Oh,
” I grumbled, wondering if I was going to hate myself more for
considering having sex with Mel, or for not going through with it.

“
Mel?
” I asked just before I pushed the door open
.
He was stark naked, his arms up and back, fingers on the tie of
Merrin’s necklace. Part of my brain started screaming a dramatic, slow-motion, “
No!
” while the rest was crowded around my eyeballs,
taking in his physique and saying, “
Oh
yes
.
”