"Bruce's pac—" He cleared his throat. "We're neighbors and went to the same school. We grew apart while he was away, but I still consider him one of my best friends."
Thanks to the times Becca had forced me and Bruce to "socialize" (her word), I recognized the faux pas. Shifters weren't supposed to say words like "shifter" or "pack" to humans. I leaned toward him and lowered my voice to a whisper. "You're a shifter?"
Neither of us was winning any awards for our conversation techniques. My face felt as if it were on fire.
"Yeah." He dropped my hand, and I missed his warmth. "About that drink … I think I'm going to need a few before I can think around you."
I laughed. Mika appeared to be struggling as much as I was, but he had some decent flirting skills beneath all the direct eyecontact I kept avoiding. He was as handsome as I remembered, too.
I followed when he led the way out of the courtroom, down the open marble staircase, and outside. He knew his way to the bar we frequented on Fridays after work. I felt strange going inside on a Monday, but the same regulars sat at the bar. I waved to a couple of coworkers playing pool.
Mika hesitated inside the door, but I led him to a small booth along the wall with a great view of the pool table. I was not gifted with the flirting gene, so I welcomed any distraction that might take the pressure off me.
It worked. For a few minutes, Mika and I watched the cutthroat game of Eight Ball until the court reporter won, and the bailiff handed him the wad of cash they'd placed on the edge of the table.
"Who carries cash anymore?" I asked.
Mika laughed. "Shifters are leery of banks, so most still use cash."
They were shifters. That explained why they avoided me, since shifters knew humans by scent. I was intrigued by Mika's statement regarding the banks. Because they avoided me, I knew so little about shifter culture. "Why?"
Our server came to take our drink order, saving me from making another awkward remark. I ordered the chili cheese fries, and Mika made it a double. I'd skipped lunch, too nervous to eat when I recognized him from Bruce and Becca's party.
After the server left, Mika studied me so long that I almost forgot my question. "We couldn't have bank accounts or credit cards until 1974, when we founded Leon, Wolfe, and Deere."
His tone was informative, and not in that snide, "I thought everyone knew that" way. He wanted to educate me. If my tattoo experience had taught me anything, it was that I still had a lot to learn.
Mika rolled his eyes, and his cheeks darkened again. "I'm so sorry. No one wants to talk about shifters hiding in plain sight or the history of banking on their first date."
"Is that what this is?" I asked. I wasn't a flirt, but I could bat my eyelashes mercilessly.
Once again, our server saved the day, swooping in to deliver our beers and the overstuffed platter of fries covered with three kinds of cheese and topped with chili and jalapeños.
"Try some," I said, nudging the plate toward Mika.
"If an omega is offering me food, this is the best date I've ever been on." He pulled a fry from the edge of the plate and dipped it in the fixings on top. He took a bite and made the sexiest noise I'd ever heard.
"Mm, gods, why is this so good?"
"Because it's terrible for you."
"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that." He took another fry and made more erotic noises. "My mom already thinks I don't eat healthily enough."
"Shifters have moms?" I asked. "I mean … I have two dads."
I knew so little about the shifter community. Becca had told me about Bruce when we were in undergrad, but beyond their keen sense of smell, I knew so little.
"Some meerkat shifters have moms," he said. "We're a matriarchal society, like real meerkats. Didn't you watch?—"
I held my hand up to stop him from asking the same question that everyone who'd seen my tattoo had asked me in the last twenty-four hours. "We only had the free television channels you can watch with an antenna."
Mika grinned. "Same. Mom said television would rot our brains."
"Your mom and my omega dad would get along."
Mika pointed to my arm. "So why the meerkat tattoo?"
Heat flared in my face, and my eyes watered. "It's a funny story," I began.
