The Firefly Effect (18 page)

It was still totally worth it.

Shane is the first to break the silence. “Um. Tell you what. I’ll clean this up if you make us those sandwiches.”

“Deal.”

“And Melanie?”

“Hm?”

“Promise you’ll keep the condiments to yourself, okay?”

~ Chapter Sixteen ~

“Here we go. This looks like something you might enjoy.”

We’re snuggled together beneath a blanket on the couch, and I’ve paused the remote on the cable program guide over some sappy-sounding chick flick. Definitely not something I’d normally be interested in, but I am trying to be a considerate host here. Although since she’s the tenant, I suppose technically that makes me the guest even if I do own the place, right?

Whatever, screw semantics – I just want her to realize I’m not the complete dickwad she remembers.

To my surprise, she wrinkles her nose and gives me a funny look. “What makes you think that? You don't want to watch that, do you?”

“Well, no,” I admit. “Not particularly.”

“Keep going. Oh – wait, wait! Look, Fire in the Sky
is about to come on. I haven’t seen that since I was about eight or nine. It creeped me out so bad I had to sleep with the lights on. Have you ever seen it?”

I have, but what surprises me is that
she
has. I would have figured her as the Lifetime movie-of-the-week type. But UFO’s and alien abductions? Don’t tell me the girl’s into sci-fi. No way. Shit – like I need one more reason to fall for her.

Don’t you mean fall for her again? Yes, again. The same way you did when you were still a wet-behind-the-ears kid. Only you were too ignorant to know what to do with those mixed-up emotions back then. History is simply repeating itself, old man. Or maybe it’s a continuation of something that never really ended. Either way, how about NOT fucking it up this time?

“You like science fiction?”

“Yes. Why? You don’t?” Looking up at me, she blinks innocently as if I should have known all along what her preferences are.

“I do happen to enjoy a good sci-fi movie.” I select the channel and try to shift my position discreetly. She’s lying between my legs, sort of sideways with her cheek resting against my chest, and I know she has to feel my insatiable cock twitching. The damn thing’s pretty much in a permanent state of rigor mortis lately. I know she’s got to assume sex is all I ever think about.

As far as she’s concerned, that could very well be an accurate assumption.

“What else do you enjoy?”

I’m not sure how to respond to that. Is she flirting with me or asking what my interests are? “What else?” I hedge uncertainly.

“For instance, now I know you like sci-fi movies. So tell me something else about yourself. Something I don’t already know.” The soft glow of the television reflects in her curious eyes. “No, three things. Give me three things, and then I’ll give you three. Okay?”

It’s cute how she’s making a game of this. “Three things about myself. Mm, let’s see…” I ponder what I should tell her. What is it she wants to know, exactly? Just trivial stuff or something more personal? “I had my lip pierced when I was nineteen,” I offer to start with.

“You did?” Her gaze drops to my mouth. “Where?”

“Right here.” I point to my bottom lip. “It was a vertical labret ring. I didn’t keep it for long, maybe six months.”

“What made you decide to do that?”

I shrug carelessly. “Why do teenagers do anything they do? Someone probably told me it would look good so I went and had it done.”

She rolls her eyes with a knowing smirk. “My guess is, there was alcohol involved.”

“There may have been,” I concede, grinning.

“Figures. My first month of college, this girl got wasted out of her mind and wound up getting a tattoo in some random guy’s basement. She was showing it to everyone. I saw it. It was supposed to say Robert, only it was misspelled. The second ‘r’ was missing. Plus she didn’t even
know
anyone named Robert, which made it twice as funny. So basically she ended up with a tramp stamp that said Robet and she didn’t even remember having it done.”

I shake my head with a chuckle. “Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever been
that
drunk.”

“I didn’t notice any misspelled tattoos on you.”

“There aren’t any, but you don’t have to take my word for it. I’d be happy to let you look.”

“I bet you would, perv.” Her fingers glide underneath the t-shirt I’m wearing to tickle my ribs lightly. “There isn’t a shy bone in your body, is there?”

“Feel free to check for one of those as well.” I move my hips just enough to guide her direction. If she wants to check for shy bones, she may as well start where it counts.

“Later. Don’t try and distract me. Okay, so that was one…keep going.”

“Hmm. Have I mentioned that I have a roommate?”

“No, you never did. Just the one? What’s his name?”

“
Her
name is Dori.” I struggle to keep a straight face. “You should meet her sometime. She’s gorgeous. Jet black hair and the roundest, clearest green eyes you ever saw in your life. A little on the possessive side, though. Not the greatest breath either. Also, she has a bad habit of constantly licking my ankles.”

Melanie’s astonished expression relaxes and the corners of her mouth twitch as she realizes I'm joking. “You have a dog, don’t you?”

“A cat, actually. Her full name is Dorito, but I usually just call her Dori.”

“
Dorito?
”

“She’s crazy for Doritos,” I explain. “She likes to lick the cheese off them. If she knows I have any, she’ll go bonkers and try to climb up me to get at them.”

“So your cat’s as weird as you are.”

“Yeah…we make a pretty awesome team.”

Melanie rests her cheek against my chest again, and I automatically reach up to stroke her hair. “I’m not surprised you have a pet, considering your line of work. Was she one of your patients?”

“She was. Someone found her and brought her in after she was hit by a car and left in the street to die. We never did find out where she came from. I was only planning to keep her long enough to find her a permanent home, which is what I usually do in situations like that, but she had other ideas.”

“In other words, you’re a big ol’ pushover.”

“Exactly,” I laugh. “I don’t know – she just jumped right in and made herself at home from day one, like my house was right where she belonged. So I guess I’m stuck with her.”

“Is anyone taking care of her while you’re gone?”

“Of course. I gave my neighbor a spare key. He's looking after her for me.”

“Oh. Good.”

“So one more and then it’s your turn, right?”

“Right.”

I smile to myself, contemplating whether or not to share with her one of the dorkier aspects of my life. But then I figure it can’t hurt, so… “Here’s something you probably wouldn’t have guessed about me. I’m in a bowling league.”

She lifts her head to stare at me, lips pressed together in a blatant effort  to suppress a smile. “Did you say
bowling?
”

“Yep.”

“You are not.”

“Uh…yes. I am.”

“No way. People still do that?”

“Yes, people still do that.”

Her eyes sparkle as she chokes back a snicker. “You mean you put on one of those butt ugly shirts and carry around a bowling bag like Fred Flintstone?”

“I beg your pardon! Our shirts aren’t ugly. They’re just black t-shirts with our team’s name printed on them.”

“Oh, I see! And what would that be, pray tell?”

“Gutter Mutts.” I feel her body shaking on top of mine as she bursts into uncontrollable giggles. Her face is nothing short of radiant when she’s happy. There’s something about that adorable laugh of hers – I just love hearing it. Love seeing it. “Well, two of us are veterinarians and the other two are vet techs. We thought it was pretty clever at the time.”

“Oh my God…that is too
funny
…”

“Why is that funny?” I notice out of the corner of my eye that the movie’s started, but neither of us is really interested in watching TV anymore.

“I…wow…I don’t know, it just is!” Still giggling, she reaches up to wipe her damp eyes. “You’re right, that’s not something I ever would have pictured you doing.”

“Glad I could amuse you.”

“You look more like someone who would be in a rock band or something like that. Not hanging out in a bowling alley.”

“Do I?” Ironically, that’s not the first time I’ve heard that. Must be the hair is all I can figure. “Sorry to disappoint you, but no band. I do own a guitar though.”

“Can you play it?”

“Sure, I can play it. Why else would I have it?”

“Can you sing? You sounded pretty good in the car.”

“A little. I don’t usually do it in front of people unless I’ve got a few drinks in me.”

“Now that I would love to see!”

“Maybe you will sometime.”

She doesn’t respond to that. I’m hoping it’s not because she has no intention of seeing me again after this. Does she honestly plan to just wave sayonara without looking back when the time comes for me to leave? Shut me out of her life because of her
just-sex
clause? I don’t get it. If that’s all this is, then why does she want to know so much about me? Why even bother? It’s only been a couple of days and already I can’t imagine how hard it would be to try and forget her.

After what seems like an awkward pause, she says, “I guess it’s my turn now, hm?”

“That was the deal.”

“Okay. Uh…hmm.” She contemplates for a while before shaking her head with a laugh. “This is harder than I thought! I can’t think of anything.”

“Just give me whatever comes to mind,” I prompt her. “Your favorite color, for instance. Start with that.”

“My favorite color? That’s easy. All of them.”

“
All
of them? Don’t you have one favorite?”

“I know it sounds weird, but no. I could never decide on just one. Each one is beautiful in its own way, so why should I have to pick a favorite? I like it best when they’re all combined together. I’ve always loved bright, colorful things.”

Coming from someone as enigmatic as her, that logic makes perfect sense. “All right. You have no particular favorite color – you like them all. That’s one thing down. Now give me something a little more personal.”

“Oh, you want a deep, dark secret, do you?”

“I would
love
a deep, dark secret. Do you have any?”

She mumbles something under her breath, something that sounds like
you have no idea.

“Come on, sweetness. Give me
some
thing.”

“Okay. How’s this for personal? I came close to being arrested once.”

Am I hearing things or did she just say
arrested?
Damn, but this girl has one hell of a knack for throwing me a curveball. For the life of me I can’t imagine prissy little Melanie Lane stepping out of line, not even to do something as mundane as dropping litter on the ground. “You’re messing with me, right?”

“Nope.” She’s snuggled against my chest again so I can’t see her expression, but I can hear the sly smile in her voice.

I breathe out a sigh before chuckling softly. “Just so you know. When I started calling you Felony, I didn’t mean for you to take it as a personal challenge.”

“It was all just so stupid. Looking back, I can’t believe I did it.”

“Don’t keep me in suspense here! Exactly what was it you did?”

“Well…promise you’ll keep this to yourself?”

“You have my word, I’ll never tell another living soul.” This ought to be good.

“Do you by any chance remember Bill Chamberlain? He was a year ahead of us so you might not have known him. He and Stephanie dated off and on during junior year.”