“I’ve already said we have a lot of fun together,” Remy pointed out.
Max shoved a waffle fry in his mouth. “Yeah, I heard you the first time. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re scared.”
Remy gave him a sharp look. “Scared of what?”
“Scared that Triana is so special.”
Remy shook his head. “It’s not like that. Just drop it, okay?”
But Max didn’t drop it. Instead, he reached across the table and poked Remy hard in the chest, making his chair slide back a few feet.
“It’s not like that?” Max snarled, his eyes rimmed in gold. “Then maybe you can tell me how it is, because I’m not seeing it.”
Remy stared at him. Like any newer werewolf, Max sometimes had control issues, but Remy had no idea why the guy was so pissed at him.
“Things with her are happening too fast, that’s all,” Remy said, pulling his chair in.
Max frowned. “What do you mean, it’s happening too fast?”
Remy sighed, wishing he didn’t have to talk about this but knowing Max would never let it go.
“I was thrilled when we ran into Triana in that club Sunday night,” he said. “She’s a beautiful, intelligent woman I enjoy spending time with, but I never wanted it to go beyond that.” Max opened his mouth to say something, but Remy cut him off. “Unfortunately, it’s too late for that, and now things are getting…strange.”
Max downed another waffle fry. “Define strange.”
“Remember when Triana nicked her finger with the knife last night?”
Max nodded. “Yeah. I smelled the blood the same time you did.”
Remy sighed. “I knew she cut her finger before I smelled the blood.”
Max frowned. “What? How?”
“That’s where the strange part comes in. I knew it the moment it happened. I didn’t smell it. I didn’t hear it. I frigging felt it.”
“What do mean, you felt it?”
Remy shook his head. “I know it’s crazy. I was sitting there watching you trying to teach Zane to dance, then I felt a twinge of pain in my left index finger. I didn’t even know what it meant, but I was up and heading for the kitchen anyway.”
Max’s eyes widened. “Okay, that’s freaky.”
“No kidding. And it’s something that’s been building since I saw her on Sunday night. Triana is getting under my skin like you wouldn’t believe.” Remy stared down at his half-eaten cheeseburger. “After I bandaged her finger, she asked if I wanted to go to her room for a quickie.”
“I heard,” Max said. “So Triana is wild. Nothing wrong with that.”
“The problem is I’m finding it nearly impossible to say no to her,” Remy said. “It’s like I’m addicted to her.”
Max grinned. “As addictions go, I think I could deal with it. Yeah, feeling things she feels is a little weird, but I’m still not understanding your major malfunction with this situation.”
Remy cursed silently. Why did this have to be so frigging complicated? “When we got back to my room last night, we ended up making love for hours, and it was amazing.”
“Is the malfunction showing up at some point?” Max interrupted. “Or are you just rubbing it in?”
“I’m getting to it,” Remy snapped. “As Triana lay there on my chest afterward, she whispered something I can’t stop thinking about.”
“What?” Max quipped. “‘Worst sex ever’?”
Remy bit back a snarl. “No, you stupid dumb-ass. She whispered that this—us…her and me together—is something she could really get used to.”
