She rolled her eyes. "Why would I need to? It's obvious you have the hots for him."

"No, I don't."

She gave me an obviously skeptical glare, in response to which I shrugged, lacking the energy to argue the point . . . and it would have required a heavy bit of lying and thickly laid self-denial anyway.

"Fine," she said. "I'll indulge you since you recently became the walking dead. Was he good?"

"Unfortunately."

"Technique? Skill? Hands?"

"High passes in all categories. Of course, after four hundred years, the boy's gonna have some skills."

"Quite a resume," she agreed. "And it wouldn't matter if he was inexperienced and inept. Just being in the same room, you two melt the drapes. All that heat, it's not surprising you came to blows again," she added. "Didn't land one, did you?"

I went silent.

"Merit?"

"He asked me to be his mistress."

She just stared at me, openmouthed.

"Yeah."

We stood quietly for a moment, until she moved to the refrigerator and grabbed a pint of ice cream from the freezer. She found a spoon, popped the ice-cream top, and handed the duo to me. "No one has ever deserved this more."

I wasn't sure that was true, but I took them both anyway and helped myself to a dose of Chunky Monkey.

Mallory leaned against the countertop, tapped a manicured finger against it. "You know, it's kind of flattering in an ass-backward way. Even if he's conflicted about it, he clearly finds you attractive."

I nodded around a spoonful of ice cream. "Yeah, but he doesn't like me. He admitted it. He's just . . . kind of . . . accidentally attracted."

"Were you tempted?"

I shrugged.

"That doesn't answer my question, Merit."

What could I have said? That even in the midst of it, some tiny bit of me, some little secret room in my heart (or more accurately, my loins), wanted to say yes? To finish out that kiss with caresses and something more, anything more, than a lonely day beneath cool, empty sheets?

"Not really."

She cocked her head at me, seemed to evaluate that. "I can't tell if you're lying or not."

"Neither can I," I admitted around another spoonful of ice cream.

She sighed and rose, patting my back before grabbing her purse and heading toward the front door. "You give that some thought while you're hibernating. I'll see you tonight. I'll go with you to train."

"Thanks, Mallory. Have a good day."

"I will. You sleep good."

Maybe unsurprisingly, I didn't.