“You like loud?”
“Not with his mouth. Loud in the way he takes up space. Like the room organizes around him.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Mel.”
“What?”
She studied his face for a second. “He human?”
Melvin’s gaze dropped. “Wolf.”
His sister leaned closer.
“Oh my God. Stop.”
“Okay,” she said. “Cats and dogs, huh.”
Melvin’s gaze stayed on the desk.
“That’s not something you see often.”
“Says who.”
She shrugged. “Wolves and panthers usually keep to their own.”
Melvin didn’t answer.
She studied him for a moment.
“Mel.”
“What.”
“You’re not talking about a crush.”
Melvin’s jaw tightened.
“So is it the hard kind of complicated,” she asked, “or the dangerous kind?”
Melvin didn’t answer fast enough.
“Mel.”
“It’s not like that,” he said quickly.
Then quieter. “I think it might matter.”
“And you feel it.”
“Yes.”
“How does he make you feel?”
Melvin hesitated. “Less alone.”
Her eyes softened. “That’ll do it.”
“It’s stupid.”
