Page 11 of Foxed Up

Also, she was dark-skinned. I thought Latina or mixed-race, but I wasn't an expert. She looked at me with her dark, dark eyes, taking me in as I took her in. She wore little if any makeup. I thought her eyes looked afraid — tentative or vulnerable deep inside.

"Hello," she said, giving me an acknowledging nod. I let out my breath. Maybe she would be able to stand talking to me (and being in the same room together) after all.

"Hello." I extended a hand cautiously, and she shook it.

"I'm Alta O'Shea."

"Wallace Avery."

We smiled at one another. Her handshake was firmer than mine, and her smile was warm and sweet.

In the background, I heard Jon and the man — Phil Phelan — exchanging pleasantries that sounded a lot like bullshit. But I was focused all on my new friend Alta. I could already tell we were going to be friends, whatever our differences.

She wasn't unnerved by me, it turned out, but by the crowded, noisy precinct and the way people looked at her. She didn't like being noticed; she liked being able to blend in and disappear, and that was impossible here. I'd likely have been nearly as nervous at her place of work, so I could understand that.

Outside in the parking lot, and on the verge where there was a little grass, we could walk and chat comfortably. We walked around for a while, talking as we strode. I kept my pace even with hers, and we fell into conversation as easily as we did walking. It was less of a consultation and more of a "we discuss techniques for dealing with humans and share our feelings" conversation. I didn't have a lot of female friends here so I was happy to meet her. She had an openness to her that I quite liked, once we fell into conversation more naturally. I felt like I would be able to confide in her if I ever wanted to.

"Can you drink coffee?" I asked at one point, when my mouth was getting dry from all the talking. I wasn't usually this loquacious, but it was nice talking to another shifter, making friends. Much better than meeting a rabbit!

She turned big, brown, liquid eyes on me and smiled. "Yes. I love coffee!"

"Me too. If you want, I can go and get us some. How do you like yours?"

She told me, and I headed inside to get some, not making her follow me so she wouldn't have to face the busy space. I moved swiftly, humming softly to myself, content with the day so far and glad it was going so well. I'd say foxes in general aren't the most gregarious of folks, so it was always exciting when I connected with someone new. It didn't happen often.

I didn't mean to eavesdrop. I certainly didn't mean to hear what I did.

I was getting the coffee when I heard Jon and Phil talking. The other human was saying, "So how's the tail, huh? Is it part of the job, tapping that?" It was a joking, abrasive joke, the kind people want to make when they're trying to prove their masculinity or don't know where boundaries end, talking about other people's sex lives.

I almost spilled coffee on my hands instead of into the mug. I held my breath. I could hardly believe he would be so blatantly obnoxious. And I was waiting for Jon to defend me, or deflect the question, or in some way handle it in a classy manner that didn't make a mockery of our relationship.

I was meeting his son tonight. I was committed to him in a non-professional sense, deeply and truly. I believed I loved him — and he knew that and said it back.

So I was unprepared for what he said next. Or, well, not really unprepared — I'd always known he could be a huge jerk when he wanted to be — but disappointed. Definitely disappointed…and wounded.

"Yeah, well, what am I going to do? Turn down a fox?" He gave a snort of derisive laughter, and the other man joined him in making that not-so-nice sound.

I poured coffee and walked out of the room in a daze.

Alta looked at me when I returned, staring inquiringly up into my face, her expression gentle. She accepted the coffee, and didn't say anything, just put a hand on my arm.

She didn't mention that I'd gotten the coffee wrong, and had forgotten to get one for myself. I didn't remember until later.

Jon Connery

After the team of groundhog shifter and human left, I didn't get much time to talk to Avery. That was fine, since I was pretty much all talked out dealing with that guy, but Wallace seemed distant, and I hoped nothing was wrong.

Briefly, I felt a twinge of conscience at the idea that he'd overheard me shooting the shit with Phelan. The guy was a jerk, yeah, but I'd played along. It seemed easier to laugh it off than try to deny that I was sleeping with Wallace — and easier to blame him being a sexy fox than talk about me being bi, or all the feelings stuff.

It was an old habit, and I wasn't particularly proud of it, but I figured there was no harm done, as long as it didn't get back to Avery. And it wouldn't, since the guy wasn't going to be coming around the precinct all the time, much less talking to my partner-slash-boyfriend.

Boyfriend. That was still hard to get used to.

He was even meeting my son tonight — how much more official could you get? We weren't quite to the moving-in stage, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to it.

Then I had to go and talk about it like it was nothing, just sex. Yeah, not my best moment. I'm still pretty much at my worst when it comes to things like that — honest emotion, admitting I'm not straight, all that shit.

I figured I'd get away with it this time, and hopefully do better the next time. If only I was prepared. But somehow, it always caught me by surprise, and instead of being the loyal boyfriend, the bi guy who accepts himself for who he is and expects other to do the same, I cover and bluff and act like an asshole.