Is that a squirrel in the tree above us?He was taking an interest.
Yeah. Wanna come out?
Maybe.
Other than my very first shift when I was a teen, the process of changing from man to beast was pretty uneventful. But this time it hurt like heck. Owww. Owww. It seemed as though every bone in my body was breaking, which it kinda was, but it was usually so quick I barely noticed.
But after he took his fur, he didn’t run or move. He stood in the same place, not saying anything to me. He’d lost interest in the squirrel, so I took my skin. I was disappointed because the shifter technique of healing injuries had deserted him, and I was the same as before he took his fur.
We can try again tomorrow.
Okay.
I sat on the ground to get my pants back on. Stan appeared and led me back to the house, explaining that the recovery wasn’t going to happen immediately. He helped me onto the sofa and pulled up a chair beside me.
“Coach called this morning before you woke up.”
“What?” I sat up, forgetting about my injury but stifled a whimper.
“You don’t have to do that. Pretend you’re not hurting.”
I ignored him and asked what Coach wanted.
“He asked when you’d be fit to play again, and I told him I didn’t know.”
I hugged a cushion to my chest. “What if I can’t? What if this is it?”
“You don’t know that.”
“Hockey is all I have. It’s the only thing I’m good at.”
“I know you, Ax.” He put a hand on my arm. “You’re a fighter and you won’t give up.”
“I gave up on us.” Shoot, I blurted that out without thinking it through. Now I had to deal with the repercussions.
“What?”
I could backtrack and blame my head injury or I could tell him the truth. Maybe not the whole truth because he didn’t know we were mates. If he’d shifted with me today, the will-he-won’t-he scenario would be behind us.
My wolf said we’d be mates if Stan shifted with us, and I told him maybe. That negative thought still festered in the depths of my mind that while Stan was my mate, I might not be his.
“I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No.” His voice rose. “Say what you mean, Ax.”
I gulped and plowed ahead. “I missed you when I transferred, and I never stopped thinking about you.”
Stan got up and sat in an armchair opposite me. He was no longer within arm’s length.
“Friendships can be hard to maintain long distance.”
I wondered if he’d chosen that word, friendship, deliberately. Now I had a choice. Two paths lay ahead. I could fib and we’d hopefully continue our friendship or spit out the truth and risk losing him.
“But I wanted, ummm, want more than a friendship.” I’d said it and couldn’t take it back. “I chose hockey over you.”
Stan got up and paced the floor. “Are you telling me you wanted to?—”
I cut him off. “Stick my tongue down your throat? Yeah, and more.” I cringed ‘cause that came out wrong. I might have to apologize.
