Chapter Twenty-Two
Frey
Dr. Hockings tapped at the figures on the screen, which made no sense to Frey. “This level here should be triple, if not quadruple, after a heat.”
He’d blamed the drugs—possibly—remaining in his system for how the previous weekend had gone. Any hope he’d had fled as those words sank in. He really had broken himself.
Frey had gone to get his blood taken after a call with Dr. Hockings the previous Monday.
There was no way to describe what had happened the week before between him and Booker. Frey had outright flirted with danger, he could see that now with a week to reflect and listen to gossip from those who’d seen Booker being all growly bear, tearing through the building.
He felt awful… kind of.
Had that all been because of me?
Was the anger staff mentioned—and not in a good way—his fault? His tummy, which had twisted into a million tiny knots throughout the entire week of Booker evading him, made him queasy.
“—so you see, this is positive after your bodily reaction.”
Blinking several times, he stared at Dr. Hockings, working to get his train of thought where it should be.
“What’s positive?” he asked when nothing came to him when he glanced at the screen, which had different figures on it than before.
When did he change it?
Dr. Hockings tapped Frey’s knee. “I know it’s a lot to take in right now.” He shifted in his seat and Frey was none the clearer to what he’d evidently missed. “I’ll print out all the results, the correct levels, too. Then I’ve several information sheets on all their meanings, so it will give you a better understanding of what’s happening for the next heat.”
Giving up and pretending he had a clue what was going on, Frey asked instead, “What’s going on with me? My heat wasn’t normal? How will the next be any different when I didn’t lose control and beg,” Frey blushed but continued on, “for sex? Or really show any interest at all. I didn’t even produce any… slick.”
Dr. Hockings sat back in his seat and templed his fingers together, looking over them as he stared at Frey thoughtfully. “Yes, you mentioned that last week when we spoke. But you also explained that your body felt something—had a reaction—to a specific alpha, isn’t that correct? ”
One bushy eyebrow rose, and Frey resisted squirming in his seat, recalling exactly what he’d said after his encounter with Booker. “I… yes… Booker… you see… I… tingling… urges…” Oh gods, just spit it out!
“I’m attracted to Booker. Maybe it’s all my fox,” Frey stated, feeling the need to justify it for no apparent reason other than he needed to blame someone for how he’d behaved towards Booker, which Dr. Hockings knew nothing about.
Provoking him like that, what had possessed him? “He’s getting pesky with his feelings over this whole situation.”
That got Dr. Hockings’ attention for sure, by the way he sat forward, looking enthusiastic. “Excellent. So you and your Fox are in tune. That would go with what I can see in your blood results.”
“It does?” Huh? “How so?” Frey’s gut, already in turmoil, decided to do the loop-de-loop to add to his woes at just how happy the doctor looked.
None of this made any sense to Frey. If he was defective, how could his fox’s reaction change that?
“You explained how your fox side chose to shut you out when Ziggy arrived. That’s the case, right?”
“It is. He got the hump with me.” Frey couldn’t decide if he was still miffed about that when he suspected that was part of the reason he sailed into work as normal last week, totally forgetting himself. Which, in effect, had caused Booker’s reaction and the subsequent conversation he’d had with Hollis.
Seven whole days since Booker hightailed it out of his office faster than a cheetah chasing a meal. Then Booker had played hide and seek with him. It left Frey over analyzing everything and clueless about how to actually discover if, in fact, Booker was interested in him. His behavior could mean anything. Frey’s real lack of experience with alphas really wasn’t helpful.
He likes you. Stop being a dork over this and listen to me.
Can’t you see I’m busy having a freak out here?
“There have been medical cases where the animal half of a shifter has taken charge to protect their human side. Your blood results would suggest this is the case. The spike of hormones here,”—he pointed at the screen—“reveals that this happened on Monday last week and was not part of your overall heat reaction. In fact, your blood work would suggest that you didn’t have a heat at all, as I said, but this other blood work is all positive.”
It was all as clear as damn mud. “But I used your predictor thingy and my temperature climbed to the levels you said it would for a normal heat.”
The doctor nodded. “It could explain a predicted response, one you knew to expect was going to happen.”
“You mean I made my temperature rise because I expected it to happen?”
“No, not quite like that.” He chuckled, stroking his beard. “Yes, you expected your temperature to rise. However, did you get yourself worked up when it changed by a small margin from where it started? Were you worried? Think about it a lot. Obsessing?”
Frey sagged in the seat, knowing he’d done all of that. “A little,” he confessed. “It was hard not to. Doing the sex stuff with a friend is… could have been stressful, if it had actually happened.”
Dr. Hockings tapped Frey’s knee once more. “It’s only to be expected and could explain your reaction. But consider this, you get to ease into a heat without all the wacky hormones. You’ve had a small taste of what it feels like to be attracted to someone through a part of your heat. I’d suggest your fox is protecting you.”
Frey snorted. “He wants to hunt down the bear and…” back to blushing, Frey ran an unsteady hand through his hair, shoving it back off his sweaty forehead, “and do stuff.”
Dr. Hockings’ lips twitched, his eyes sparkled with amusement. “Why yes, I’m sure he does after all this time being chemically restrained.”
“I didn’t think about it like that,” Frey confessed, feeling stupid when they were two halves of one whole. “I’m worried about what he might do.”
What we might do.
It was easier to focus on the doctor than on his snarky animal side.
“His feelings are inherently yours, Frey,” he replied softly, getting a gleeful snort from Frey’s fox. “Maybe you need to consider that.”
It was hard not to with his fox.
After more discussion—with him actually listening—ten minutes later, Frey left, clutching the papers he’d gotten to read. He stopped on the curbside, knowing he wasn’t quite ready to head back to work. Never one to skip out on his responsibilities, Frey trudged back to his car .
Inside, he placed the pile of papers on the seat next to him and drove out of the lot. Before he realized it, he was driving to the lake. He didn’t question it. He could make up the time later. It wasn’t like he had plans for his evening. Or any evening, for that matter, unless it was with the other PAs.
His lips trembled, and he sniffed at the glaringly obvious lack of social life.
Parked up, he got out of the car, dragging his thicker jacket from the back seat and slipping it on. There was a chilly breeze and his suit jacket didn’t protect him from it. Leaving everything sat on the front seat, too lost in his thoughts to worry about anyone seeing them, he wandered the familiar pathways that lead him through the park, to the lake.
A bench closest to the water's edge was where he headed. He sat down and hugged the jacket closer to him as he eyed the heavy gray sky that suggested it wouldn’t be long before it rained. The sounds of the water lapping and the occasional cry of a gull were the only things that broke the silence.
Why can’t life be simple?
You’re making it more complicated than it needs to be.
You mention Booker once more and I’m gonna scream.
Stop being silly, the bear is ours if you’ll just admit it.
I warned you! Frey opened his mouth and screamed loudly.
A roar followed and the sound of shoes slapping on the ground, setting Frey’s pulse to leap hard enough that he couldn’t catch his breath. He spun around on the bench and watched open-mouthed as Booker charged out of the trees.
“What happened? Who touched you,” demanded a furious, snarling Booker, his claws out ready to… defend me .
Oh my, look at him.
Frey could do nothing but look at him as Booker reached them. The spectacular bear came to a halt, the enormous claws looking lethal, sending shivers down Frey’s spine.
Was that fear he felt at the aggressive alphas?
Heck no, Frey felt tingly again.
Booker, ready to fight for him, left Frey feeling… warm and sticky in places he’d not been sticky for years.
His mouth snapped shut when Booker lifted Frey off the wooden bench he’d found him sat on. Dangling for a second while Booker took his place on the bench and placed him into his lap, cuddling him. What the heck was this?
Booker’s nose went into Frey’s hair, breathing him in. Only then did Frey notice Booker shook so hard beneath him, except Frey was at a loss to why.
He didn’t know if it was his fox or his own instincts kicking in, but he snuggled right in when Booker actually snuffled. The bear’s heart pounding directly under Frey’s ear, adjusted slowly as Frey gently stroked the part of Booker’s chest he could get to without moving.
Was this all because he’d screamed? “I’m sorry, I was just venting my frustration. I didn’t know anyone was around,” he whispered, just in case he was the reason.
After a noticeable hesitation, Booker’s arms tightened around him, and a sigh followed as his heart beat calmed. “Why were you venting?” Booker’s gravelly voice rumbled up his chest .
The scent filling Frey’s nose tempted him to bury his face in the shirt he remained pressed against. Should he be honest? He considered what the doctor had told him.
Then something else struck.
He pulled back, forcing Booker to lift his head. “What are you doing here?” He frowned as pieces slotted together in a picture that said this was more than coincidence. “Are you stalking me?” he squeaked.
Booker’s gaze didn’t quite meet his.
“I didn’t give your secretary the doctor's address, and as I wasn’t planning to come to the lake, there is no way you could randomly be here,” he said quickly, realizing he was supposed to be at work and not nicking off for some personal reasons.
“I had a doctor’s appointment, and then I needed a minute or two,” he continued when his anxiety mixed with confusion, and Booker’s silence, wouldn’t let him stop.
Booker’s cheeks were a ruddy color that Frey had only ever seen on a farmer who’d spent years outside. “I… yes.”
“Yes, what?” Frey asked in confusion. His morning had been full of struggles to keep up and he was getting annoyed.
If it was possible, Booker’s cheeks got a darker shade of red when his gaze dropped somewhere about Frey’s nose. “I was stalking you.”
“You were?” he shrieked, his glee and anxiety clashing spectacularly.