CHAPTER FIFTEEN

RILEY

“Then why do you want to start by knowing what they dislike. Why not what they like?” Theresa squints her eyes in enquiry.

That is easy.

“Knowing what someone doesn’t like specifically, broadens your chances at doing what they like.”

See? I am smart.

“Okay, that’s reasonable. It’s just that normal people start from the likes, not the dislikes.”

I ignore that thing I hear undertone. There’s an aim, so I press forward.

“Yeah, I am far from normal.” My gaze stay fixed on the fire.

It might seem like a brag or an intentional act to sound pathetic, but it is the truth. A truth that I have accepted a long time ago.

“Well, that I am aware of.” Theresa mutters under her breath.

She avoids my eyes as she focuses on stirring the fish soup in the large pot. It takes her a few minutes to be done with stirring, adding more ingredients and stirring again.

After what seems like ages, she finally sits. But still, says nothing.

“So?” I urge.

“Oh. For a second, I had forgotten. Okay, let me think. What do men dislike? What do they dislike?”

Hmm.

“The first thing I am aware that men dislike… no, not dislike. Dislike is not the word. Hate. Yes, hate. They hate clinginess.” How calm she is while saying this gives it the convincing feature.

“They do?”

“Of course. No man I have met likes clinginess. They love the distance and the chase. So it is advisable to give them their space.”

But in Stefani’s book, most of the men hated the space and always wanted their women around them.

Are those lies? Because Theresa doesn’t seem like she’s lying.

She looks confident in the words of her mouth. So confident that I begin to wonder how many men she has encountered.

I shake that thought away as it is none of my business.

“By space, do you mean like the physical space? Or is it emotional space?” I question, seeking clarity as I get ready to write down her response in the mental list I am making in my head.

“Emotional space? Is there a thing like that? Well, I’m actually talking of the physical space. No one wants you hanging on them like a tree animal. Like, picture a monkey with its arms on your neck. Would you like that?”

I paint the picture and shiver at the thought of it.

Theresa notices this and smiles. “Exactly what I thought.”

But I am not clingy.

Or am I?

I stare at Theresa in awe. How does she know so much? And why hasn’t it come to my mind to ask her about it?

Well, I hadn’t known that I was the only one in love in my marriage.

“okay.” I say softly.

“Another very important thing, if not the most important, to note is that, for men, peace of mind is paramount.” She has her hands folded as she spits out these instructions. “They cherish it so much that whenever they find one who does not give them that, they leave. Yes, it’s that serious.”

“Peace of mind? Like being quiet, replying only when you are asked and doing exactly what you are asked to do?” I don’t remember a time where I was more curious.

“Goodness. It is a training on being a desirable woman, not an obedient maid. Peace of mind in this context is knowing what suits and soothes him. I’m guessing you understand.” She wiggles her eyes at me, and then winks.

She winks.

And I get more confused.

I was making sense of what she was saying, till she punctuated it with a wink. Am I supposed to read a meaning into that wink?

“I…I sincerely don’t. I’m sorry.”

Her expression slowly turns blank, then she lets out a heavy sigh.

“Hmm. Now I know where the problem is from.” She shakes her head. “Ignorance in such things is not tolerated when staying with a man. Because, tell me, how would you please him? How would you bring him peace of mind?”

Ignorance in what?

I take her last statement as a rhetorical question and say nothing. Instead, I spend that time staring at her, trying to connect the dots. This she makes quite difficult as her mouth says one thing and her eyes say another.

“See? You don’t know. Peace of mind comes in a red short nightgown, looks at him seductively, slowly walks to him, then let him do to her whatever he chooses.”

Now, I get it.

“Do...do you mean s...s….” It won’t just come out.

“Yes, sex. That is what I mean. Hmm.” She shakes her head at me, probably noticing the flush on my cheek on the mention of that word.

Okay, I came to her with the expectation of some practical details, but my mind never wandered to this. And now she’s saying it’s the most important aspect of it?

“The fact that you can’t say that word and even blush when it is spoken about to you makes me confirm that you really know nothing about men. How then did you end up a strong acti… vibrant man like the Alpha?”

Another rhetorical question.

So I say nothing.

“Wait. Let me show you how it’s done.” And like that the uptight Theresa disappears and she stands up abruptly, shocking me. With little speed, she sprints towards the kitchen entrance.

Is she about to do what I think she is about to do? I asked for words and she is now offering practical examples? Interesting.

She strikes a pose, with one of her legs staying at the front of the other, while one hand goes to the hair, and the other staying on the rise of her hip, elegantly cupping her hip.

Then I turn to see her well, enjoy the display of fun Theresa, before her uptight self returns, as well as take mental notes of some details.

“You open the door as stay like this. It might seem funny, they might even laugh, but don’t feel embarrassed. It actually excites them. You see how this position pushes out all my curves? Yes, just like that.”

Oh.

“Then you make eye contact, flap and flutter your eyelids. Like this.”

I never knew I would be part of this experiment. So I flinch when her eyes land on mine. Seductively.

Her eyes go slanted, could be my imagination, but her pupils get bigger. Then slowly, up, down she begin to flap her lids, in the process, looking at me up to down.

Seductively.

And it feels cring. So I look away.

“See? Even you can’t resist this charm. Next you call his name and spice it up with an endearment.”

Endearment?

Apart from the ‘My Alpha’ and ‘My Luna’ Jude and I call each other, we really don’t do endearment. Or maybe we have not gotten to that stage.

But if I’m to give him one, what will it be? My love? My strong man? The love of my life? My man with the enchanting eyes that drew me in from the first day he set his eyes on me?

Isn’t that kind of long?

“Jude darling.” Theresa purrs.

Hmm?

Why my husband’s name? And didn’t that sound too natural? Like…

Don’t, Riley. Don’t overthink this.

“Then you begin a slow majestic walk towards him.”

She begins to move, her both hands now on her hip, one leg going in front of the other, as she walks towards me. This is a walk I have only seen a wolf take when it’s about to pounce on its prey.

A predatory walk.

Her hips goes here and there, till she finally come to stand right beside where I sit.

“Then you strike that pose again.” The speed in which she uses to go back to that awkward position almost makes me laugh.

“Now you wait for him to grab you. Mission accomplished. In the next nine to ten months, you should be cuddling a strong pup in your arms.” She give me the slyest smile as she goes back to stir the content in the pot on the fire.

How is she so sure on this? Her actions and words do not convince me, it is the confidence she puts into them that does the work.

“What if he doesn’t grab you? What if all these don’t work? Is there like a second plan? Like a backup plan?” Doubt rise in my chest.

“Experiment has proven this method potent. Very potent.”

Experiment? On who? By whom? Questions and doubt fly about my head like bees.

“As far as you have the perfect dress, and you follow the process, step by step, it will definitely work. Especially on Jude.”

She returns the look of shock on my face with a knowing smile.