by Selena Scott
“Hey!” Ansel held two palms up to his ears. “I don’t want to hear that about my sister!”
Milla raised an eyebrow. “Ansel, are you under the impression that your sisters are virgins?”
“Ah!” Now he covered his eyes as well, as if he needed to block this information with all his senses.
“Ruby is right,” John Alec decided. “Inka went away and we need to let her have her own life.” He thought for a second. “And if he turns out to be a dickhead, we’ll beat the shit out of him.”
“Fair enough,” Kain and Milla said at the exact same time. They grinned at one another and then even harder when Ruby piped in.
“You guys think that’s the solution to EVERYTHING.”
CHAPTER THREE
Movie nights became a regular thing. As in a four-days-a-week thing. Friday through Sunday Inka was back in Green Mills. But pretty much if she was in Manhattan, she and Matt watched a movie together. And everything was becoming much more comfortable between them.
Both in their movie choices (Clueless, ConAir, Speed, Grease, etc.) and in their seating arrangements. Inka had always been a cuddler, and it had caused problems for her in the past. Her male friends inevitably got the wrong idea after she’d throw her feet on their laps or mess around with their hair. It was something that Kain had had to explain to her over and over again.
“Inks,” Kain had laid it out for her. “If you touch a guy, he notices. Even if it’s light. Even if it doesn’t mean a thing. Dude is g.o.i.n.g. to notice.” He’d actually inserted the pauses between each letter. And she’d taken it to heart. It wasn’t like Inka wanted to make things awkward or really confusing with people she cared about.
But she was so far from home. Every night she worried she’d have the dream. And Matt? Well, Matt was the best. So smart and thoughtful. He never made her feel dumb, the way so many people in her life did. In fact, he made her feel smart. He laughed at all her jokes. And he let her change the topic when she didn’t want to talk about something. What more could a girl ask for in a friend?
So when movie nights started to get a little more comfortable–a shared water glass, one blanket over both of them, him nodding off between scenes–well, she analyzed it. Was she sending Matt the wrong message when she undid the buttons at her wrists? Or when she’d needed him to zip up that purple turtleneck dress?
No, she’d decided. Because it was different with Matt than it had been with other male friends. With other male friends, she was snuggling up to them because she was Inka. With Matt, she was snuggling up to him because he was Matt.
Safe and quiet. Analytical, smart and sweet. He was better than a full night’s sleep. Safer than a deadbolt. She got closer and closer to him because simply knowing him was one of the best things she’d ever felt.
Those nights together were some of the greatest of either of their lives. As simple as they were.
It was the only thing that really could have torn Matt away from his work, this close to a breakthrough. The idea of snuggling up to Inka Keto on a couch while she wore bright blue slippers and ate her fourth yogurt of the night was way too much to pass up.
And it wasn’t snuggling exactly. But it was… definitely something. He would have bet his savings account that it was something.
He’d stopped sitting at the edge of the couch and always sat close now. If he ran his arm along the back behind her, she’d lean her head back, her knees pulled up to her chin. If his feet were propped up on the coffee table in front of them, so were hers, and they would touch from hip to ankle.
One night he’d worn a hoodie and she’d taken the strings in her hands, toggled them around the entire movie.
And one night, his favorite of all, she’d fallen asleep during Home Alone, her cheek pressed into his chest and her hand balled up in his shirt. That was the night she’d come back at 1 am. She’d already gone home and fallen asleep. She’d woken him up with her knocking, asking to watch another movie.
He was sure she’d dreamt of something that had scared her.
It was right around then that Matt had realized how very hard Inka Keto was to know. For as open and kind and whimsical as she was, the woman was shut tight like a steel trap. He knew she had two brothers and a sister who lived ‘back home’. Wherever that was. He knew Milla had a husband. And that was it. The end. A big old whopping that’s-all-she-wrote.
Anytime he asked her a question it was met with some sort of joke or non sequitur or even a good old fashioned topic change. The woman was apparently a master. And he thought she was so adorable, he’d let it go on for two whole months.
It was that that he was thinking of one Tuesday afternoon when he was jogging home from the park. He realized that if he cut over a block or two he could pop in and see her at work. She’d invited him before, and maybe it would be good to see each other out of the context of her living room. He knew it would be good for his own sanity to see her in a professional setting, instead of all warm and peachy and swallowed up in a blanket.
He jogged the rest of the way there. His run would be a good excuse to not have to stay too long.
Of course he banged his head against the bell on the door as he walked in. Just. Of course. He was rubbing at the sore spot and looking around for Inka when he realized how dumb this idea was.
He’d known, intellectually, that Inka worked in a lingerie shop. But the physical reality of that was just now setting in. He was surrounded in every direction by lacy little scraps of this and that. Mesh underthings designed to make a man pour coffee into his cereal. He felt a hot, slithering something work its way up his back.
“Yeah. No. Big mistake,” he muttered to himself as he took a step backwards.
“Matt!” Inka came bounding from the back of the store, her hair perfectly spic and span and her taupe shirt tucked into navy blue slacks. She looked nothing like she usually looked and Matt could still have eaten her on a cracker.
“Ah.” Yeah, that was the best he could do. Inka Keto was surrounded by underwear in every direction. Sue him.
“Did you come to visit me?” she asked. And then she visibly dimmed. “Or did you come to buy something for someone?”
Matt buoyed. Okay. That was good. She wasn’t wanting him to buy lingerie for another woman. That was something. That meant something. He gestured at his running clothes. “I was out for a run and I thought I’d say hi.”
Her face lit up like the Eiffel Tower and Matt jammed his hands in his pockets. “That’s the best! I love seeing you out and about. Okay. Well, I can’t take a break right now, but you can stand with me while I fold.”
Matt looked in horror down at the pile of satin… things that Inka had motioned toward. He could do this. He could totally do this. Not be a mumbling moron while Inka folded satin underwear in front of him.
If he died young, they might as well just write down this moment as cause of death.
“Sure, sounds great.”
She beamed at him and shook out a midnight blue thong, deftly folded it up and put it in its place. He gulped.
“What, ah, do you want to have for dinner tonight? If, of course, that is, if you want to have it with me. I don’t want to assume. I just thought, you know, following the pattern of other nights, that we’d probably be eating together again.”
She eyed him over a pair of pink lace panties that had–gulp–snaps on the crotch. “Of course we’ll have dinner together. Are you alright?”
“Oh, yeah. Of course!” He leaned on one hand, willing himself to be cool for just one second, realized that he’d knocked over a pile of push-up bras, and just folded his hands under his armpits.
“Maybe sandwiches?” she proposed. “From that deli you were telling me about? Do you think they deliver?”
Matt repeated the word ‘deli’ in his head fourteen times before it registered as English. Right. The deli on 57th street that he liked so much. He dragged his eyes away from the yellow, satin, fairly demure underwear she was neatly folding.
Yellow looked good on her skin. “They don’t deliver, but I’ll pick it up for us.”
“You don’t have to do that!”
“No, really. I wanted a longer run anyways. I’ll run there and take the train back. It’ll be easy. I swear.” He was only vaguely aware that he was backing away from her.
“I’m gonna take you at your word.” She warned him. “I’m willing to take advantage of people’s kindness when a good sandwich is at stake.”
“It’s no problem. I’ll see you at home around seven.”
And then he was out the door like a shot, just ducking the bell this time.
Inka watched him go. Her lanky friend who was all big feet and wide shoulders. She smiled as she watched him jog down the street, jumping to the side to dodge a stroller barreling toward him. She’d turned back to her folding when it hit her, what he’d said.
The word ‘home’ sprinkled down on her little by little, like snowflakes.
***
Matt thought about Inka the entire run down to the sandwich shop. And then he thought about her the entire train ride home. And by the time he walked through his front door, he’d gone and worked himself right up.
He’d replayed that moment in the lingerie shop, where she’d deflated, about 700 times. She hadn’t wanted him to buy lingerie for another woman. That had really happened. It was real.
He slammed the sandwiches onto his counter and strode into the bathroom, ripping his clothes off one by one. There was no reason this had to be so confusing! All he had to do was ask her.
The thought of talking to her about this thing between them made his stomach tighten, but that was normal. After all, he was a mortal and Inka Keto was a goddess of the highest degree. The most gorgeous woman on the planet and cute to boot. Anyone would feel a little anxiety about laying himself on the line.
But he’d made up his mind to do it. And by the time Matt was out of the shower, teeth brushed and sweatpants riding low, he was actually feeling pretty juiced. Whatever her answer was, it would be okay. The important part was telling her. Living in this weird, cuddly limbo was going to put him into an early grave. Not to mention, whatever this thing was that he had for her was seriously preventing him from meeting anyone else. So, in one sense, he more than owed it to himself to do this. He even owed it to his mother.
No. Nonono. That was not the right train of thought, he admitted to himself as he stepped out of his bedroom shirtless, scraping the towel over his hair.
He froze and so did Inka, who stood ten feet away in his kitchen. It was 6:30. She was half an hour early.
“Oh!” Her voice was breathy. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.” She held up the bag of sandwiches. “I was hungry.”
Her eyes bounced all over him, taking in his low sweatpants, the dusting of hair on his chest.
“No, that’s totally fine,” he said as he took a few steps forward, tossed his towel over the back of an armchair. “You know you’re always welcome here.”
He expected her to reply but she just stared at him. And kept staring at him.
Well, now or never.
“Inka?” he asked as he closed the distance between them. She’d thrown her hair up in a messy bun and now wore yoga pants and a T-shirt with all the planets on it that read ‘need more space’. He resisted the urge to chuckle at it and instead focused on those green, green eyes. When he was two feet away from her, he froze, jammed his hands into his sweatpants pockets and held her eyes. “Do you find me attractive?”
Her mouth opened and closed. Her eyes were so wide, so honest, and so unreadable. Matt thought it was perhaps the first time he’d ever seen her speechless.
“Wait a second.” He held up one hand. “That’s actually not the way I want to start this conversation.”
He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his dark hair. Her eyes landed on his exposed armpit and then across his chest. He wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or a bad one.
“What I really want to say is that I think about you all the time.” He didn’t step forward so much as shift forward. “I think you’re hilarious and unique and I never know what you’re gonna wear. Also, you’re tongue-rolling-out-of-the-mouth pretty. Crazy pretty. It, ah, makes me nervous.” He took a real step this time. “And I was just thinking. That if you, at all, felt the same, then I’d really like to know that. And if not? Then, that’s cool, Inks. I’ll need a little time to get over, you know,” he lightly pounded one hand over his heart and Inka’s eyes dropped there. “But we’ll be fine. I promise we’d be fine.”
She stared up at him still. His blood screamed through his veins and his hands tingled. Telling someone you had feelings for them was intense. He felt like he could have lifted a Cadillac. Meanwhile, her face was so blank it was starting to freak him out a little bit.
“Ah. Inka?” He didn’t want to push her, but a little prompting was necessary for his very sanity.
“I—um.” She brought one hand up and roughly scratched her head, her bun bouncing with her fingers. Her eyes ricocheted from his face to his chest and everywhere else in the kitchen. And then she licked her lips.
If she hadn’t licked her lips, Matt might have written this off as a loss. But there were those plump lips, shiny from her tongue. And he knew that he had a chance. He just knew it.
“Alright.” He held up both hands. “I’m gonna take that response as an indicator that you’re not totally sure, one way or another.” He paused. “Which, for the record, I’m gonna be filing as a win. Considering… all that.” He waved in her general hot-ass direction. “So in lieu of you answering my other question, I’m just gonna ask one more.” He took a deep breath, but the pause was more for her than it was for him. He felt great. Better than he had in years.
“Do you object, in any way, to a little experiment? Where, at the end, you might better understand how you feel about me?”
There was a beat of time, which might as well have lasted a year.
“No,” Inka spoke, her voice raw and featherless. “I don’t object.”
And then she licked those lips again.
Matt closed the distance between them. One arm went around her waist and the very tips of his fingers just kissed under the waistband of her pants. The other hand was already at the back of her neck, tipping her head up just so.
“I’m gonna kiss you,” he murmured so close he could have sworn he could already taste her. “And then all you have to do is tell me how it makes you feel.”
She made a small noise, in the back of her throat, her eyes half lidded, that reeled Matt directly in.
He kissed her bottom lip first, pushed at her nose with his own to change the angle. And then he kissed at that plump lip again. His hands shifted when his lips didn’t. His hands didn’t move, just changed their grip, and suddenly he was clutching her against him. She was pressed to him all the way from her shoulders to her knees.
And that’s when the kiss changed. Neither of them would ever know if it was her or him that had done it, though both would someday take credit. But one mouth opened and the other explored. There wasn’t conquering, but there was giving. Each of them were suddenly viciously generous, wanting the other to have everything they needed. He clutched her where his hands had landed, but that was happy, sexy luck, because Matt Woods could no longer feel his hands. Inka tried to grab at him and maybe she succeeded, but it was only because her fingers closed over the first thing they came in contact with.
Their worlds shrunk down to the head of a pin. There were no childhood hauntings. No unsolved mysteries. There were no shifters. Hell, there was no New York City. The only thing that existed was taste. And touch. And tight, never-ending clutch.
She made a noise that justified his existence on God’s green earth. He thought that if there weren’t such a pesky thing as mortality, he could have done this until the sun just burned right out.
There were a few moments in Inka Keto’s life that changed her forever. The first time she shifted, w
hen she thought she’d lost Ansel and Milla two years ago, and when Matt Woods opened his mouth for her.
When Matt licked at her tongue, Inka knew that she’d just undergone a transformation as powerful as when she’d first shifted to bear form. She wasn’t the same woman that she’d been a few minutes ago. And she never would be again.
It was a kiss that both accelerated and stood perfectly still. Because both of them had barely moved since it had begun, but they’d both been catapulted light years into their emotional futures.
Matt suddenly saw a world where he could give up science, move in with Inka and die a happy man. Inka, with a certain amount of grief, watched as everything and everyone she loved suddenly jogged a place down her list of things she cared about. Matt… Matt… Matt was at the top of every dogpile. The highest rung of the ladder.
They tore away from one another when the only thing more important than the person in their arms was breath itself.
Inka smashed her forehead against his shoulder and breathed as hard as if she’d been running. Matt just tipped his head back to the ceiling. He said a prayer of thanks to Newton, Galileo, Albert Einstein himself.
She’d kissed him back and damn.
Just damn.
He bent his head at the exact second that she lifted hers and there they were again. Although this time, their hands refused to be left behind. Matt’s fingers flirted up to the small of her back underneath her T-shirt and then back down to the waist of her pants. Inka’s hand smoothed over the expanse of his entire back, but the other stayed lodged under his jaw, as if he was the only thing tying her to this earth.
She was only conscious of moving when her ass was pushed into the edge of the counter. He was steering them, thank God.
Inka hopped at the same time as he lifted and she slid smoothly onto the counter. Her legs opened and he stepped in between in a dance that had never been easier for either of them. He wasn’t sure if he was drinking her down or drowning in her. But what he did know, after her tongue slid across his, was that he had no choice but to lay her down. And then she was across the counter, the sandwiches falling to the ground and one hand still on his jaw.