Heat Exchange(23)

"If Janey stays with me, I'll be happy," Nyall said briskly. "There's no downside."

"Okay, happiness for you. What about for Janey, Nyall? How does staying benefit or hurt her?"

Nyall's eyes hooded. "I take care of her. She gets her sex certificate. I keep her from getting hurt."

"Good. Now your turn, Janey." Oliver smiled at her encouragingly.

Janey knew her face was beet red. "I don't understand your answer, Nyall," she said, looking at him. "You wouldn't be happy."

"Why don't you address me, Janey," Oliver advised. "Not Nyall."

She made herself look at Oliver, but she was aware of Nyall's fixed stare. "If I stay, I get everything but Nyall gets nothing. He, uh, he makes me feel, uh…" She looked helplessly over at Amy for confirmation of Nyall's lover-as-magician status, but the other woman's nose was buried in her phone again.

"Nyall makes me feel amazing," she hurried on. "But I'm not experienced so I can't teach him anything new and he doesn't actually want to learn how to cook. He's rich and important. He has business obligations that are a really big deal. If I stay, sure, he gets some sex but he says that's just sex and not a big deal and I forget the rules. That means his work suffers and he gets mad and I'm a crybaby. I'm pretty sure that makes me high maintenance. He wouldn't be happy and I wouldn't be happy and there'd be more of this." She pointed to her wet eyes.

"Janey!" Nyall exploded, looking livid. "You promised you'd stop—"

"No yelling, please, Nyall," Oliver said soothingly, holding up a hand. "We don't raise our voices during resynthesis. The idea is to listen, not dominate the conversation. So Janey, why don't you move on to the outcome you see if you go away instead of stay."

She nodded. "Going away is much better. If I go, Nyall's life can return to normal."

"What about your life?" Oliver asked.

"Well, sure, I'll be sad, but that's only because I was silly before and made this into something way more important than it was." Realizing her honesty wouldn't help her cause, Janey added reassuringly, "I was super lucky to meet Nyall on that elevator and I'll never regret anything. He's already taught me so much. He truly doesn't have to worry." She nodded emphatically. "I'll find somebody else to finish the lessons if necessary. A nice, decent, regular guy. I'm sure I just haven't been patient enough. They can't all be sleazeballs. It's really okay."

That should relieve Nyall of any guilt about not fulfilling his promise, she thought. Even if it wasn't exactly true. She couldn't imagine doing what she'd done with Nyall with anyone else, but he didn't need to know that.

"What about you, Nyall? Let's hear your thoughts on what happens if Janey goes," Oliver said.

Janey followed his gaze and was caught; Nyall's teeth were bared and for a moment, she had the bizarre idea that he was about to launch himself at her.

"You'd fucking better not," he growled, "let another man touch your pussy, Janey."

"Ah, dude," Oliver said, sounding flustered.

Janey's hands flew to her cheeks. Her gaze encountered Amy's. The woman's attention had finally been torn from her phone.

"Nyall, chill. You're freaking her out."

"Shut up," he said, recapturing Janey in his stare. "Are you getting me, Janey?"

She shook her head, frowning.

Loudly, Oliver cleared his throat again. "Nyall, the question is really what emotional and lifestyle effect will Janey's leaving have on you and her. That's the kind of thing we're looking for here."

"If she leaves," Nyall said deliberately, "I'll be fucking upset. Why the fuck do you think you're here? And she'll be fucking upset too because I don't have time for that shit and I'll be in a bad mood when I come to fetch her back to where she fucking belongs. Are we done here?"

"Wait!" Oliver sounded excited. "No, this is great. You're a little ahead of the game, but you're advancing to the next stage of resynthesis. Blaming. This is where you get it all out in the open, all the dark forces inside you. Just say what you're feeling. Nyall, why don't you go on with your train of thought? I think we're all feeling the emotion here."

Janey was bemused—by Nyall's impassioned speech, by Oliver's enthusiasm about dark forces. She caught Amy's eye again.

He's good, the woman mouthed. Janey stifled a hysterical giggle.

Nyall's tone was disbelieving. "Blaming? Sure, I can do that. Janey, this whole thing is your fault because I fucking want you and only you and you're punishing me for screwing up because of some idiotic idea you have about my being out of your league."

She gasped. Did he really want her? Her, Janey, specifically?

"Me?" she said, just to be sure. "Janey Pankowski."

He rolled his eyes, then reached out and dragged her by the legs along the sofa. "No, the queen of England. Of course you. You're not exactly interchangeable." Janey shrieked a little as she was yanked close against Nyall's body.

Oliver leaned forward. "Great, great, we're making real progress here. Now you, Janey. Try some blaming."

She struggled to think of something blaming to say. Then she snapped her fingers. "Nyall has stupid rules. He thinks work always has priority. If that's what he thinks, then he shouldn't make arrangements with virgins."

"Okay, now we're getting somewhere," Oliver said, rubbing his hands together. "Let's move on to vantaging. Here, we're aiming to leave history behind. Move past what's happened. We're aiming for forgiveness. Janey? Why don't you start?"

"Um. Like, I should forgive Nyall for his stupid rule, you mean? Is that what you mean?"

"Yeah, that kind of thing."

"Okay." She turned her head to look at Nyall doubtfully. "I think your rule is stupid. But I understand that you have to have it. You're forgiven." She didn't feel like that really settled anything, but the words made her feel a little better.

"Nyall? What about you?"

A muscle moved in his jaw. "I forgive you, Janey, for everything. You can stay with me."

Oliver smothered a laugh and Amy hooted. "Er, right," Oliver said. "Maybe be more specific?"

Nyall sighed and ran his hands up Janey's arm and hip, shifting her further up against him, reminding her of the elevator incident again.

"Janey, stop assuming you're like Amy here, or anyone else," he said. "No offense, Amy, you were the best, bud."

"Creep," Amy yawned, and to Oliver, "Don't freak out, lover, Nyall's not even in your class." She winked at Janey, who decided she really liked Amy.

Nyall's hands tightened. "And stop assuming I'm being noble. You're not a charity case, you never were a charity case." He whispered in her ear: "I was just hot for your ass, only hotter than I've ever been for any ass, ever, because it's your ass. I keep telling you that. Maybe you'll believe me now."

She swallowed. In the same hushed tone, she said, "Because there's something about me even though I can't figure out what it is and you don't know either."

"More or less." He kissed her head, then said in a normal voice. "So if you do that then I forgi—"

"Hold on," Oliver said. "You're doing it again. Rushing to the next stage. That's negotiating. Did we ever agree on the goaling? Because the negotiating depends on the goaling." He scratched his head.

"If you want to wait to finish this until you've worked out some bugs, that's cool," Nyall said. "We've settled that Janey's staying with me, isn't she? Aren't you, baby?"

Janey frowned. "Not necessarily. I still don't think I'm offering you anything remotely near what you're giving me. You don't want to learn to cook."

"You can teach me how to cook."

"But it's not that valuable to you."

"Maybe I can help here with a re-isolating moment," Oliver said. "Janey, what is it you want in this relationship with Nyall?"

Janey bit her lip. "You mean for this week? I want to learn everything Nyall can teach me about sex and men and how to deal with them. I want my —" she flashed a smile at Nyall, "sex certificate."

"And Nyall? What is it you want in your relationship with Janey?"

There was a pause. Eventually Janey looked around again and found him looking annoyed. "I want her with me," he said. "To take care of her. To teach her whatever she wants to know."

"And you want me as a mistress. A sex partner," Janey supplied.

"Janey," Nyall said clearly to the room at large, "is not a mistress. Not a sex partner."

"Then what is she?" Amy said suddenly. "Girlfriend, Ny?"

Before Nyall could dismiss that himself, Janey shook her head. "No, no. Not a girlfriend. Nuh-uh. This is just for this week."

"You heard her," Nyall drawled, his voice at odds with the suddenly bruising pressure where he held her arm and hip. "I'm not peon enough to be boyfriend to this woman. Right, Janey? You want yourself a—what did you call him—nice, normal, regular guy?"

She nodded. "Nyall's the dashing, worldly guy I'll think back on when I'm an old and feeble grandmother as the one who made my first experience with sex something wonderful instead of scary."

"Oh, brother," said Amy. "So you're just into him for his bod?"