Hell, he was never going to live it down if he got fleas.
Even worse, he couldn’t even tell Nero the joke because the man had gone into his bedroom and shut the door tight.
Chapter 18
NERO SATat his desk, staring at a picture of his team at the last barbecue. He was torturing himself—he knew that. The memories were painful and wonderful at the same time. He missed them. He missed who he was when he was around them. And he really wanted to introduce them to Josh. They’d like him. They’d tease him mercilessly, and he’d probably do something to the food to turn everyone orange, and just like that, he’d become part of the pack.
Except there was no pack right now, and he was lost without it.
A knock sounded on his door. “Not now,” he growled out.
The door opened anyway, even though it was locked. Only one person could do that, and he was the last alien Nero wanted to see.
“Not now, Gelpack.”
“This is the appointed time.”
Nero frowned. “We don’t have an appointment.”
“It is the appointed time. And Captain M told me to remind you that this is the arrangement. I kept the new recruits alive—”
“Not all of them.”
“—and you must talk to me about feelings.”
“Fine. I’mfeelinglike you need to get out of here.”
“You need not concern yourself with my safety. In fact, Captain M said that I should offer myself as your punching bag.”
“Great idea.” Nero launched himself out of his chair, leading with his fist. He went right through Gelpack to thud painfully against the door. Then he damned himself for being an idiot, because he’d known that would happen. The vaguest residue of something remained on his throbbing hand, and behind him, Gelpack simply reformed without the fist-sized hole. Well, he’d wondered if surprise made a difference against the creature. Now he knew it didn’t.
“Fine,” he said, all the fight going out of him. “What do you want to know?”
“I wish to discuss your feelings.”
Oh, goody. “What about them?”
“Please describe them to me right now. Include as much physical description as you can.”
“I’m feeling the clothes on my body. They itch right now.” He was in his softest sweatpants, but they still bothered him. Everything bothered him right then.
“I’m feeling angry at you because I want to be left alone.” Except he’d just been alone and realized that steeping himself in misery wasn’t doing anyone any good.
“I’m feeling like my hand better stop throbbing soon or I’m going to have to shift, and I’m too tired to do that. And that’s another thing,” he said as he glared at his bed. “I’m feeling so fucking tired, even my hair needs to rest.”
“How does hair feel tired? There are no nerves in hair to feel—”
He sighed. “It feels heavy, okay? Like each hair is pulling my scalp down and I’m too tired to stay upright.”
“Why don’t you lie down?”
“Because whenever I do, I get antsy.” Fitting words to action, he stretched out on his back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. “Happy now?”
“I do not experience happiness as you do. That is why I am here: to learn how you experience it.”
“If I knew that, then I’d be happy, wouldn’t I?”
“Would you?”
