“It’s not Spartan. Not to me.”
Heat surged into her face. She pulled open the bottom rack of the dishwasher and set their three plates side by side. “I just meant… Guys your age usually have a wall-spanning TV and the latest phone and a gaming system.”
“And debt and a technology addiction.”
“Is it because you’re…?”
His mouth tipped up, and the dimple appeared. “You think I’m averse to debt because I’m a werewolf?”
Ember nearly dropped the silverware. She deposited it into the slotted holder and turned away from him. Oh, she must look like a beet by now. Stupid pasty complexion. Claire still poked at her sometimes for looking more like the literary concept of a vampire than Claire did.
“Ember.”
Slowly she straightened and shut the dishwasher, but she didn’t face him. Couldn’t. “I didn’t mean to offend. I’m trying to, um, make amends for how I showed up here.” She grabbed a scrubbing sponge and went to town on the sink, which was stainless steel and already clean. “I’m not likely to pull it off for long, but I thought I’d try at least. You know, act more like a courteous guest and less…well, less like Battering Ram Ember.”
He growled.
She jumped and spun to face him. He got to his feet and came to stand on the other side of the counter.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to— But no. Do not be less Ember. Be exactly Ember.”
No one had ever said those words to her in all her life.
He leaned over the counter and traced his thumb down the back of her hand. It was the simplest gesture. It was hardly intimate. Yet it sent a shiver all the way up her arm, and she no longer wanted the counter between them.
Whoa, girl.
Say something. Break the spell. He took two steps toward her, his strides languid but his dark eyes filled with questions and a sudden heat. Whiplash—hedidwant her?
“Ember…”
“Quinn,” she said. Quinn who had gone out to the fire pit after dinner, grinning at Aaron’s permission to start the fire himself. While Aaron had no spices or sauces in his house, he did have ingredients for s’mores.
He went still at the name, but his eyes continued to burn. Then he shook his head, backed up several steps, and returned to his chair at the table.
The moment was broken as she had wanted. She shouldn’t be disappointed. Wasn’t disappointed. Yes, Aaron Reed was disturbingly attractive, swarthy and brawny and dimpled, but so what? First of all, he’d given her no reason to suspect romantic intentions. Second, she walked past attractive men in the grocery store every week, worked at a desk across from blond sculpted Brian Wozniak, and thanks to Claire was practically acquaintances with Tai Kristiansen the surely-he’s-photo-shopped vampire.
There. Perspective.
With a cleansing breath she directed her thoughts to the dangling conversation. She tossed the sponge into the sink, joined him at the table, and watched him sip his coffee.
“I hadn’t heard you use the term before.”
He shrugged. “Just another word.”
“But doesn’t the general public uselupinenow because the other is…um, considered derogatory?”
“Yep.” He smirked. “But it’s mine to use if I want.” He took another sip of coffee. “We’re usually being ironic with the wordwerewolf. We don’t likelupineeither, though. We just saywolf.”
“How do you distinguish between yourselves and the animals?”
“Context, I guess.” He cocked one black eyebrow at her. “What are you, a language junkie?”
“Only at the amateur level. And your response makes you one too.”
That earned her a laugh, and then he said, “You read.”
“I hope you’ve noticed my nephew loves books. It’s one of my greatest life accomplishments.”
