wasnât quite so bad. Venec and Stosser had meant to make us efficient when they molded the pack, but it had also created a sort of safety zone. We knew the kind of shit weâd seen; we didnât have to talk about it, to explain why we needed distraction.
âDonât turn around, youâve got an admirer,â Pietr said, leaning across the narrow table to shout inâ¦my ear? Niftyâs? I couldnât tell. So, of course, we both looked.
Speaking of distraction. Contrary to some peopleâs wet dream of bisexuality, I didnât drool over everything that breathed. Pietr, yes. Venec, yes, even without the Merge. Sharon had piqued my interest briefly, but Nick, Nifty, and Stosser werenât my type either physically or emotionally. This woman, on the other handâ¦.
She looked right back at me, and smiled, the kind of smile I recognized: Hi, it said. Will you smile back at me?
So I did. She was a redhead, the kind of shaggy strawberry that only comes naturally or with a lot of money, and her eyes were wide-set and light-colored, and she had a body that probably wouldnât raise the pulse of any red-blooded American male, unless he recognized the lean and agile muscles flexing as she walked. Toward me. There was a god, and she was gracious.
âOnce again, Bonnie scores, and the rest of us strike out,â I heard Nifty mutter, and I spared him a consoling pat on the hand. âYou do all right for yourself, guy. But this one seems to be more about the girl parts.â
âIâm allll about the girl parts,â Nick said in a singsong falsetto, picking up the tail end of our conversation. I wasnât looking at him, but from the solid whap-noise, I was guessing that someoneâprobably Sharonâhad just slapped him upside the head to shut him up before my visitor made it to our table.
âHi.â She had an ordinary but pleasant voice, blandly Northeast, and her smile was even nicer up close.
âHi. Iâm Bonnie.â I slid off my chair to move away from my usually-but-not-always-discreet coworkers, and tilted my head to better look at my new friend. She was taller than me, and her eyes were definitely hazel-green and very pretty.
âJoan.â She gave me her hand, and it was smooth and soft and strong, andâ¦
I didnât feel anything. Not even the shiver of anticipation that usually came when someone gave me that kind of once-over.
Oh, damn it. Just, damn it.
It wasnât that I was in a guy-phase, either. Iâd gottenhit on last week by a very nice example of my type, slightly scruffy and broad-shouldered, and enough smarts to balance out the bad-boy looksâ¦and Iâd smiled and felt nothing other than a passing admiration for the package.
Even my recent off-work time with Pietr had been about release and comfort, not the sort of enjoyable, mutual passion I was used to feeling. I wasâ¦not dead inside, but rather unnervingly calm. Like a very still lake, when youâre used to an ocean.
Iâd liked to have blamed it on some kind of off-season flu, or overwork, or maybe some horrible current-disease that was eating my libido but that wasnât it, not exactly. If I let my guard down, or lingered too long, late at night, in my deepest thoughts, my entire body came alive like someone had dunked me in liquid current, every nerve tingling and wanting.
Just not for any of these would-be playmates.
The Merge. The stupid, unwanted, unasked for Merge, and Benjamin Venecâs own innate, dark-eyed appeal. Damn it, thrice.
I knew it was probably a lost cause, but Joan was cute as hell, and I wasnât ready to give up just yet. Maybe getting to know her over a few drinksâ¦.
âYou want to join us?â I asked, turning to indicate my for-now demure coworkers. A look of disappointment touched Joanâs face: no, she really didnât. She wanted me to go with her, somewhere else, right now.
Some of the shiny