Stiles was slow in a few things, he was fully willing to admit that. He was especially slow in realizing when a girl or, in this case, woman, was coming onto him. He blinked, tongue coming out to wet his own lips reflexively as she stepped in closer. That tingle that had gone to his pants became a pulse and he hummed softly, trying to think of anything that would distract him from being aroused around a werewolf that could smell it. "You? You don't... I mean, I've never smelled that before. On you. That smell."

Speaking of that smell, it seemed to spike and he took a deeper breath to get more of it. "It smells good. Are you sure you're not wearing something?"

Oh... she was stepping closer. She was stepping closer and she had a look that had his pulse fluttering and the thoughts of Greenburg and Coach doing ballet in speedos fleeing from his mind. "I can? What... do I have to figure out?"

He knew. Part of him knew, but it was just so out of the realm of anything possible that it was taking a long time for it to be feasible to him.