Burn Me.

3. NICK

AN: I'm going to change this book into first person, folks. I'm sorry for the confusion, but it will allow me to get the thoughts of the characters onto the page in a more direct, and expansive manner.

<NICK>

I don't think I have ever believed in 'having moments' with someone. I mean, you go places, shit happens -good or bad- you sort yourself out, and you walk away.

I've never been so incapacitated by an idea that I can't breathe, and I have certainly never even remotely considered forcing my presence on a woman. If they're not interested in me -as rare as it happens, it does happen- I shrug it off, and I walk away.

Far away.

Like between the legs of the next willing woman, kind of far away.

I suppose I never really figured that my Mate would be one of those few, uninterested types. We're told, basically from the moment that we can comprehend logical thought, (and honestly, probably before that too), that finding our Mate is like an instantaneous shock to the system. Love at first sight, smell, touch. That sort of thing.

So imagine my surprise when I realize that little Emily of 'that-pack-over-there' was my mate, and also, 'wasn't interested'.

It's not something any wolf takes well. Especially not a Beta wolf. Especially not this Beta wolf.

Admittedly, I'm a pretty quiet man. I've got enough in the looks department to secure the fact that my bed has never really had a chance to cool, and enough in the brains department that I can weasel my way out of -or into- a wide variety of situations.

What I do not have practice with; however, is wooing a woman.

Especially the woman that is supposed to be my forever. Like, is she not supposed to be so overwhelmed by our 'forever-bond' that she falls into my arms at first sight? I'm not an angel, and I know she knows that. You don't become the Beta of one of the largest packs -after hers, of course- by playing nice. She also very likely knows about my indiscretions, or, lack thereof on the discretion front.

But, c'mon. Her brother has likely done much worse. Hell, she has done much worse, in just the past few months. I would be an expert in that, seeing as I've basically been following her around like a lost puppy for three years.

Now, at least, I have an excuse for being here. Matt came to discuss Alpha-like things with Luke, is now stuck in what seems to be the beginning of a very dramatic family war, and despite the fact that I told Emily I was on leave, it wasn't actually one hundred percent true. Matt hadn't approved it yet; he thought I was pathetic, begging to have time off to harass the mate that didn't pay me any attention.

Unless you counted those mornings where she stared at my chest from her perch on the countertop, coffee mug in hand. She thought I didn't notice that she regularly eye-fucked me, when I was all sleep smothered, and I might not have the first time if she didn't let a little growl out as another female wolf walked into the kitchen. Yes, I now knew the effect I had on my little wolf. Yes, I now made sure to walk down to the kitchen every morning on the off chance she would be there, and would take the opportunity to stare. Yes, I left my hair all messy, and those fucking itchy 'scruff' hairs on my face, because Ally had let it slip that women loved that shit. Yes, I made sure my sweatpants sat lower, and lower on my hips each morning, just so I could be rewarded with that little lip lick she would do as she followed my v-lines into the elastic around my waist.

And yes, I knew I was a pathetic, sad little man, grasping at the few straws she would give me. I was half willing to bet that she didn't even realize she was reacting the way that she was. But she was. That had to count for something.

The fragile male ego could only take so many blows before I was going to go full brute, toss her over my shoulder and carry her away to some cave.

I would try not to pound on my chest, or howl when I did. No promises though.

All this information; however, is what led to the showdown currently occurring in the kitchen. I couldn't help but follow her into the kitchen when she made that ploy to bring everyone tea. I could blame it on the fact that I didn't trust her not to lace every drink with sleeping pills, but we all knew it was because I was hoping for a little more attention to be directed my way.

It's not like I had any appearances to keep; everyone here, with the exception of those newcomers, knew I was absolutely fucking smitten with the little wolf. It's not like I had been discreet with my constant stalking.

She hadn't been very discreet with her shutting down of my advances, either.

Which is why, when she muttered something out about a cuddle buddy agreement, I didn't wait half a second to jump on it. Hard enough set firmly in the 'not even friends' zone, this would end poorly if she actually thought she could let me into her bed without a little touching, kissing, everything.

My hands continued to encircle her tiny -and I mean, she was a beautifully curvy girl, but being as big as I am, meant everyone was small next to my 6'6 frame- waist, tugging her close as I simultaneously pressed her into the counter. If she didn't know that she was driving me wild before, I was dangerously close to embarrassing myself now.

"I'll take that contract," I murmured, lowering my head to keep our eyes locked. If I focused on her eyes, I might not lift her onto the counter and kiss the absolute shit out of her. It was hard enough seeing those gloriously pink lips curse me out -something I found surprisingly hot- from afar. This close up, was a godlike test of willpower. I deserved a medal.

"What?" she asked, eyes pleasantly clouded over as she gazed up at me.

Who's the lovesick one now, huh Sweetheart?

"Cuddle buddy, or whatever the fuck you're going on about. Anything to get me into that massive cozy bed of yours, with you, preferably naked."

Ok, so maybe I could've been a little less forward. But come on guys, three years tests a mans patience.

As is, I swear I could've gotten away with it, did the kettle not choose that exact moment to send up the most screeching off pitch whistle I had ever heard. If I didn't know she loved her damn tea in the evenings, that stupid steel thing would've been on a fast track out of those huge bay windows. I could afford to replace them, later.

The fog cleared from her eyes, affording me with an up close glance at the clarity -and the wall- slipping right back into plain view.

"You know, if you ever had any nightmares. Needed help scaring those monsters away." It was a last ditch attempt.

"I swear to god, Nicholas, you are the last person I would ever come running to." She spun and grabbed at the mugs and kettle, simultaneously slipping out of my grasp. The frustrated growl that left my lips wasn't escaping for lack of trying to keep it in. Black hair narrowly avoided smacking me in the face as she turned to march out of the room.

"You know what I want, little wolf," I murmured. It was a quiet statement, but I know she heard me from the way her shoulders stiffened, and she paused, back to me, in the doorway. "I'm going to keep trying until you give it to me."

"Go home, Nicholas. We both know Matt hasn't granted you leave, and Luke wouldn't let you hang around if there weren't a damn good reason."

"You're more than enough reason for me, sweetheart." She marched out of the room like a princess on quite a fucking high horse, ass swaying in a rhythm that I knew was designed to drive me insane.

One thing was for sure. I would be telling our grandkids about how their grandmothers first gift to me was my first set of grey hairs, and a migraine.