Chapter 3: Howlin' For You

"Today I caught myself smiling for no reason… then I realized I was thinking about you." –Unknown

EPOV

God I could have stayed on Sookie's front porch for the rest of the night, content to just look at her and listen to her talk, to say nothing of kissing her. Fuck me, I'd never felt anything like that from just kissing a girl before. Even the girl I once thought I was desperately in love with as a teenager didn't compare to what I felt when I kissed Sookie and kissing Signe had been a dream come true for me.

I couldn't help the goofy ass grin that broke out on my face as I drove home and Your Touch by the Black Keys blared out of my speakers. I was no better when Howlin' for You started just a few minutes later. I would never again be able to listen to that band without thinking of Sookie; I was sure of it. As I sped home I decided I would check online to see if they were touring, and if they were, I was going to buy tickets for any show within a 500 mile radius.

I pulled into my driveway just before midnight and marveled that it was still early, relatively speaking. Then again, most dates I went on ended up being of the one night stand nature. Sookie was different, however, and as much as I wanted her there was this little warning voice in my head that told me to slow the fuck down. Being in a relationship that wasn't based on orgasms would be a different experience for me.

Fuck, I might actually have feelings for this girl. Wasn't expecting that shit, I'll tell you that much. Not that I didn't have feelings. I had people in my life I loved but it was a relatively tight circle and I didn't invite new people into it easily. I had a lot of acquaintances but I was selective as hell about whom I really let get to know me.

One of those people had clearly let herself into my house since I found Pam lounging on my couch filing her nails when I walked inside. She must have parked her car in the garage. I hated it when she did that and she knew it. Mostly I hated it because it meant I didn't have any warning she was there. Pam was notorious for just popping up whenever she felt like it, no phone calls, texts or emails in advance to let me know she was crashing with me.

"I know you know how to use a phone," I shook my head at her as I came around to sit on the couch. She was tiny enough that her feet didn't reach the other end.

"And you know I don't leave messages," Pam said without looking up from her nails. "Where were you anyway? I was going to suggest we go get sushi."

"I had a date," I said casually and could immediately feel Pam's eyes boring into me.

"And you're home this early? Was she that bad in bed? Did she bite your danglers or something?" Pam snarked.

"No, she didn't bite my danglers." I rolled my eyes. Pam had her way with the English language, I'd give her that.

"So why the early ditch? Did she not want to put out?"

I said nothing. Usually this line of questioning wouldn't bother me. Hell, Pam had every right to ask considering my track record but I felt weird talking about Sookie that way even if it was hypothetically. Pam kicked my thigh and busted out laughing when I glared at her.

"You like this girl?" Pam asked with disbelief.

"Is that so bizarre?" I almost pouted.

"For anyone else, no, it's not. For you, yes, it's a little strange." Pam tossed her nail file onto the coffee table, earning her another glare from me. Sandpaper and wood weren't really friends but she didn't seem to care. "Tell me about her."

"No way!" I laughed and shook my head.

"Why the fuck not?" Pam demanded, slender arms folding over her narrow chest.

"Because you'll come up with a million reasons why dating her is a bad idea and then try to move in on her yourself." I knew Pam's tactics.

"Fuck you, Northman, that was once and let's face it, it was obvious Ginger was playing for my team anyway." Pam smirked at me. "Besides, this is the south. Isn't keeping it in the family a motto around here?"

"Sookie's not like that," I shook my head.

"Sookie? What the fuck kind of name is that?" Pam's eyes widened.

"It's a nickname, you twat." I rolled my eyes at Pam.

"And an awful one at that."

"Careful, Pammy." I snorted.

"Fuck you! Don't call me that." Pam glared at me. She hated it when I called her that.

"What are you doing here anyway? I thought you were shacking up with that model in Paris?" I leaned forward to untie my chucks.

"I was but then I met someone else and you know how short my attention span is." Pam shrugged it off. Like me, Pam seemed to be led by her dick. I couldn't wait until she met a person of substance that she actually had feelings for, especially if she planned to keep giving me hell over Sookie. "So answer me truthfully. Do you really like this girl?"

"I didn't fuck her, and not because I didn't want to. Does that answer your question?" I stared hard at Pam who seemed impressed.

"Look at you, all grown up," Pam clutched a hand to her chest.

"Shut it, Pam." I sighed and hauled myself up off the couch.

"Oh don't get your blue balls all up in a twist." Pam waved me off and reached for her nail file.

"How long are you staying this time?" I paused in the doorway.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "I have about three weeks until my next job and then I'll be in Australia for about a week doing a shoot for Vogue. After that I'm meeting the parentals in London for a spell. Mummy is demanding I attend Patrice's second wedding."

"How is Patrice?" I smirked and Pam practically growled at me.

I met Pam when I was sixteen and my parents decided to take me along to Europe for the summer. My father had set up a meeting with a colleague of his who was working at the University of St. Andrew up in Scotland. Pam was touring universities at her parents' insistence, in spite of having another year before she really needed to start applying to schools. Pam had no interest in college anyway but what she wanted never mattered much to her parents. They had given her an ultimatum: either go to college or get out. Since Pam liked the lifestyle she had become accustomed to, she chose college. I still have no idea what the fuck she majored in.

Patrice was four years older than her and already enrolled in St. Andrews, studying ancient history, of all things. Patrice was far more traditional than her 'wild child' little sister. The differences between Pam and Patrice were about as startling as the differences between Sookie and Jason, from all I could gather. Basically, the two sisters had nothing in common outside of their genetic material. Patrice was socially awkward and didn't speak much. She had a much softer demeanor than her sister, however, and because she was far more polite and willing to cow tow to what their parents wanted, she was deemed the favorite daughter.

"She's a cow," Pam said in her best native Manchester accent.

Where Pam was slender and almost willow thin, Patrice was definitely of a heartier stock. She was, dare I say, portly? I don't know what the right word was to describe her. Pam probably would have said 'rotund,' or maybe 'chubby as fuck.' Whatever the right word was, that was Patrice.

"I can't believe she found another cad to marry her," Pam shook her head. "She's as dull as talc."

"Not everyone can be as fascinating as you are, Pam," I said knowing full well she would snicker at my flattery.

"You know, if you're going to compliment me without getting laid first, I'm going to start thinking you've lost your mind."

"I love you too, Pammy," I winked at her and she gave me the finger.

That was my Pam.

Back before she figured out she was a lesbian we'd had a short relationship the summer after I graduated from high school. I'd traveled back to Europe with my mother when she decided she wanted to take a tour of dead writer's graves. Sounded like a cool idea and since she was willing to let me go off and do my own thing, I was more than willing to tag along with her. Pam made arrangements to meet up with us in Berlin where her grandparents had a house.

We had one too many beers one night and the rest is history. My mother ended up going off to Prague without me to see Kafka's grave and I spent the time she was away getting drunk out of my mind and fucking Pam senseless. It was a great two weeks but we quickly learned we made better friends than lovers. We were able to downshift into being just friends after that and six months later; Pam confessed she was pretty sure she was a lesbian.

We had a standing joke between us that I had turned her, but if anyone else made such a joke Pam would kick some ass for it. Almost ten years later Pam had become something like the sister I never wanted. While most kids would beg and plead for a little brother or sister, I was perfectly content to be my parents' one and only child. By the time I was old enough for the idea to be appealing to me; my parents were long past their childbearing years. Pam would just have to do.

There was a small mountain of suitcases stacked up in one of the two spare bedrooms upstairs. It certainly looked like Pam was planning to stay longer than three weeks but then she never packed light. We took a weekend trip to Austin once for the South by Southwest music festival down there and that required three suitcases. Pam never went anywhere without being prepared for any possible climate change. I swear she went through about fifteen costume changes that weekend like she was Madonna, or something.

I found sanctuary in the quiet of my bedroom. After booting up my laptop I reluctantly peeled off my clothes. Sookie's light, citrusy perfume clung to the soft material of my shirt and I didn't really want to lose the smell just yet. I forced myself to take it off though, because sleeping in it would have been a dead giveaway to Pam just how much I liked Sookie. While my laptop finished loading I went into the bathroom adjoining my bedroom to brush my teeth.

It was a damn shame to wash away Sookie's taste as well but it was a necessary evil. I stopped brushing for just a moment to contemplate all the things running through my mind. My current behavior was so unlike me. I wasn't the guy who walked away from what might have been a sure thing because I was so respectable or considerate of other people's feelings. I wasn't a total dick, but I just wasn't usually what most girls saw as long-term boyfriend material.

I didn't plan dates in advance unless it included a hotel room or buying condoms. I didn't talk about my teenage obsession with comic books or speak Swedish to girls unless I was sure it was going to get me laid. All of this taking it slow business was pretty new to me and the most troubling thing about it was that I was okay with it. For once in my life I didn't want to rush into something. What the hell was that about?

You like her, you dumbass, I internally berated myself and I knew it was true. And when I said 'like,' I didn't mean it in lusty kind of way. Yes, I wanted Sookie, no doubt about that, but I didn't feel that urgent rush to get in her pants. I actually liked talking to her. I liked hearing what she had to say. She was interesting, smart and funny, a combination I didn't usually keep an eye out for. I hadn't even been looking for it, if I was honest. I just knew she looked fuckhot in the dress she was wearing and there was something that drew me to her.

I still had no idea what the fuck that thing was and it was starting to make me a little crazy. I finished brushing my teeth and headed back to the bedroom to do a little surfing on the web before turning in. According to the Black Keys' website, they were playing a show in Dallas in six weeks. The show wasn't sold out yet and I told myself I would go see them regardless of whether or not I was still seeing Sookie at that point so buying tickets wouldn't be a waste of money.

With the tickets bought, I checked my email and then shutdown my computer. I set the laptop on my dresser and grabbed the remote from my nightstand. I channel surfed for a while since I was still a little too wired to go to sleep. I seriously considered calling Sookie, which was a bizarre impulse for me to have. I didn't even want to think about why just hearing her voice would have made me feel better. I already knew the answer to that and coming to terms with it was a little strange for me.

Before I knew it I'd watched an entire Proactive infomercial. Man, I was fucked. I had completely zoned out on Sookie, replaying bits and pieces from our date. Okay, so she definitely wasn't a singer. I'd found that out while we were playing pool and she quietly sang along to a Lynyrd Skynyrd song that was playing on the old school jukebox parked at the far end of the bar. What she lacked in vocal talents she made up for with the sway of her hips as she danced around the pool table to line up one stellar shot after another. She would make a great hustler if she ever decided to give that a go.

Any guy who set eyes on her would assume she was an easy mark. I had no doubt she could play the dumb blonde routine to perfection. All that silky blonde hair in combination with those innocent wide eyes and magnificent curves of hers would have any guy convinced she was out of her league. She could easily flirt her way into a game and then clean house. And people think men are the more dangerous predators?

Annoyed with myself, I turned off the television and stared up at the ceiling. I couldn't hear any other movement or voices in the house but I doubted Pam was already in bed. For as long as I'd known her she'd been a nocturnal creature, only really coming to life as the sun started to set. I was sure Pam had other reasons for coming to visit me than just breaking up with her flavor of the month but I knew better than to pry. Pam wasn't what I'd call an open book and even as close as we were, I knew she had her secrets. I was fine with that since I assumed whatever she chose to keep to herself was probably the sort of stuff that would have me running for brain bleach anyway.

Eventually I drifted off to sleep. My dreams that night were of Sookie, no surprise there; only they definitely finished what had been started while we were standing at her front door. As soon as she pulled me into the house clothes started flying in all directions and by the time we got back to her bedroom, she was down to her bra and a super fuckhot pair of lacy boyshorts that I was looking forward to ripping off of her. That is until I realized she had a pool table where her bed should have been. I wonder if that had anything to do with the less than gentlemanly images I'd had running through my mind while she had been bent over the pool table earlier? Huh.

When I woke up the next morning I was hard as a rock and beyond frustrated because of it. I told myself it was a trend I'd better get used to until further notice but that did little to ease my mind or the ache going south of my waist. Fucking REM cycle. I got out of bed and headed to the shower to take care of my not-so-little problem before going downstairs.

I had no plans for the day and like the whipped puppy I seemed to be, I was already wondering if it was too early to call Sookie. There were plenty of other things I could be doing with my time besides obsessing about her. Hell, she probably had a full day on her hands without me stalking her like some obsessed 'tween. Breakfast seemed like a good place to start so I got to it.

I wasn't that great of a cook but I could whip up a bowl of cereal with the best of 'em. I sat down at the kitchen table to eat and caught myself glancing at the phone every few minutes. Despite my best efforts not to think about her, I found myself smiling at the prospect of seeing her again. Yep, I was fucked.

When the phone finally did ring, I sat there completely dumbstruck like I'd never heard a phone ring before. Then I was a flurry of activity, tripping all over myself to get to it before the call went to voicemail.

"Hello?" I said breathlessly, praying to hear the sweet southern lilt of Sookie's voice.

"Good morning, Mr. Northman, this is Kayla Rae calling from AT&T and I'm calling today to find out if you're satisfied with your current long distance carrier-" Kayla Rae didn't get to finish whatever the hell her script said. I wasn't going let my phone line be tied up with telemarketer bullshit when Sookie might be trying to call.

I wasn't obsessed. I wasn't obsessed. Who was I kidding?

Okay, so he's a little obsessed, but it's cute, right? What do we think of Pammy? I kinda like her snarky, sarcastic ass. If nothing else, she keeps Eric on his toes. Reviews are love! Thanks for reading!