Chapter Nine
Toby
They didn’t open on Sunday’s and Toby was grateful for that after the visit to the hospital to remove the bandages from his hands. The skin was raw and painful when he made a fist. From what the nurse said, they were much better than the day before. For that, Toby was grateful.
They’d assured him another day, and they should be healed enough that he could use them without pain. He really didn’t want to let his friends down. Shutting on one of their busiest days wasn’t the best for business, no matter what assurances Morty and Niall gave them.
They had been wonderful to him, and Niall had canceled his Saturday evening plans to spend it curled up next to Toby. The problem with that was he was a misery guts.
He’d done his best to cast it off. When that hadn’t worked, he’d blamed the drummer in his skull.
He didn’t have that excuse now, which was a double-edged sword.
He was thankful his head was better now that the drummer in his skull had finally taken a break.
But he hated lying to his friends, so he couldn’t use his head as an excuse for why he was being moody and grumpy.
It wasn’t him, but the scent clinging to his dirty hoodie—one he’d refused to let Niall wash—was still telling him he had a mate.
Are you going to start this again? We have a mate. A huge, gorgeous mate. A mate we need to find so he doesn’t think we’re rejecting him! So pull yourself together.
He released a huge put-upon sigh, failing to catch himself when Niall darted from the kitchen into his living room. His day-glow sleep pants flapping around his legs.
“What is it? Has the pain worsened? Do we need to take you back to the hospital?”
Toby carefully pushed his bangs out of his eyes and gave his friend a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I only sighed ‘cause my animal side is giving me a headache with all the moaning he’s doing.”
Niall frowned and came to the couch where Toby was sitting cross-legged with a big fleece blanket covering his legs—hiding the dirty hoodie underneath.
“What’s it giving you a hard time about?” Niall eyed him with speculation and concern.
Toby had no secrets from his two best friends, absolutely none.
Yet he felt they might be a little judgy about his current situation—because he most definitely was.
He considered and worried he’d done more damage to himself than the doctor thought.
Saying aloud that he could smell his mate on his clothes, would that make him sound kookie?
Niall nudged him with his shoulder, and the sloppy T-shirt with a dragon on slipped off his shoulder. “You’re worrying about something,”—his finger traced over the lines between Toby’s brows softly—“tell me what it is, please.”
Toby sucked in a breath and chewed on his thumbnail, staring at Niall. Then, he snuck his hand under the blanket to pull out the filthy hoodie.
“Why have you got that under there?” The frown he wore deepened as his gaze moved from the hoodie to Toby and back.
His thumb popped out of his mouth, and he rushed to say, “I think I did more damage to my head than the doctors could see on their scan things.”
“Why?”
Toby held up the hoodie to his nose and inhaled, pushing the blanket away to reveal his reaction, blushing bright pink when Niall’s eyes widened at his obvious reaction. “I smell my mate,” he whispered like the words might attack him.
Niall bounced off the couch, his lips parted, arms gesticulating. Only he said nothing. He stomped in front of the couch; his hands fluttering about in the air like he was trying to capture the words with how his lips flapped.
Okay, not quite the reaction he expected. Toby tugged the blanket back over his lap. If his hard dick caused this type of reaction, he should have kept his thoughts to himself.
“The guy… the guy… holy fuck… the guy—”
“Why are you shouting at me? And you know, you aren’t making sense, Niall. In fact, you sound like the one with a concussion right now.” He did, and although Toby’s drummer had vacated his head, Niall’s odd reaction was making his temples throb.
“Fuck… he’s your mate!” Niall said sounding giddy with excitement.
Told you.
Please, having Niall talk in riddles is enough to deal with.
“What… are you talking about?” Toby worked to keep his voice even when his pulse hammered through him, making his movements jerky as he unfolded his legs, feeling the need for his feet to be on the floor to ground him.
Niall’s grin spread, making him look a little wild. He jabbed a finger at the hoodie that Toby was clinging to. “Sorry… but it all makes sense now.”
“What does,” Toby questioned in exasperation, rubbing at his temple.
“The dude at the hospital who was kicking off. The one who brought you into the hospital. He didn’t wanna leave.
Heck, he was the one who got all shouty and demanding when I went to find the doc to get your pain pills.
He was really upset at being asked to leave.
I can tell you. It makes sense, can’t you see? ”
“No, it doesn’t when I didn’t know it was the person who helped me doing an impression of a rampaging herd of elephants.” That was how it had sounded to Toby. “Are you sure it wasn’t for some other reason?”
Niall shrugged off his comment and continued.
“The scent giving you a chubby must be his. He carried you into the department. So, it figures it rubbed off on your clothing.” His voice was rising with excitement.
“That’s what the nurse was talking ‘bout this morning when we were chatting. The dude was the talk of the department ‘cause it took four security guys to drag him out when he wasn’t listening to reason.”
Toby swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth at how strong he imagined the guy was for it to take four men to drag him out.
Mate, not some random guy!
Could it really be he wasn’t hallucinating or some such thing over the smell clinging to his hoodie?
Dang it. I’m telling the truth, you twit!
There’s no need to start name callin’.
“—so what do you think?”
Toby blinked Niall into focus and blushed once more, trying to fathom what he’d missed while arguing with his animal side. “Are you sure it was the guy who brought me in?”
Niall rolled his eyes at him. “I’m not blind, and I told you we spoke to him when we got to the hospital and told him he could go, we’d take care of you. Can’t you see? His reluctance to leave. Then the kickoff. You smelling your mate. It all adds up, and it has to be him! Don’t you think?”
“Is this you wanting to claim rights on me meeting my mate?” Toby asked suspiciously, a little worried to pin his hopes on Niall’s assumptions.
Save me from stupid humans!
I told you, stop with the name calling, I’m just being cautious. Because it hadn’t passed by Toby that he had willingly left the hospital out the back door to prevent seeing whoever was shouting. If the guy knew they were mates, he could—wrongly—assume that Toby wasn’t interested.
Was he sitting at home believing that Toby didn’t want a mate?
Niall looked so damn pleased, Toby wasn’t sure if jumping to the same conclusion was a good thing. Was it?
“I’m not gonna be insulted by that question when I know you were concussed yesterday.” A cheeky grin appeared. “Although I will be claiming bragging rights when it turns out I’m right.” He blew on his fingers and rubbed them on his bare shoulder, looking like the cat who got all the cream.
A knock on his front door was followed by Morty’s appearance carrying a plate of what smelled like chocolate éclairs. Toby groaned in delight, his belly rumbling in appreciation of what was to come.
“I come bearing gifts to make you feel better. You seemed a little glum this morning at the hospital.” Morty swung around to shut the door, only one of the éclairs fired off the platter and sailed towards Niall, whose quick reflexes stopped it from landing on the cream rug.
éclairs, we don’t need éclairs. We need to shift and fly to where we landed to find our mate. We can have something far tastier, our mate!
He’d wanted to, except the doctor had been clear: no shifting until he was fully healed in his human form first. His bird side was tweeting up a storm about what twaddle that was.
“Sorry,” Morty muttered, looking flushed as he righted the plate and walked off in the direction of the kitchen.
“No worries, I’ll have this one,” Niall smirked at Toby. “I deserve it after helping Toby meet his mate.”
There was a clatter and a screech before Morty reappeared, a smear of chocolate on his top. “What? Mate? When?”
Morty tripped over his feet in his rush to reach the couch, and he barely avoided headbutting Toby, who had the wherewithal to dodge to his left so Morty clocked his shoulder instead.
“Oof,” Morty groaned and twisted to land on the cushion next to Toby. “Sorry.”
Toby rubbed at where Morty had made contact and eyed the red patch on the side of Morty’s head. “Could have been worse.” They all knew how clumsy Morty was.
He giggled and shrugged. “It’s a good job that Hector finds my clumsiness adorable.”
They all chuckled because Morty wasn’t wrong.
“You’re distractin’ me. What’s this about a mate?” Morty didn’t ask Toby; he asked Niall.
“Show him,” Niall said with a mouthful of éclair.
Toby cringed at the brown and cream mess he could see. “Gross man, and so not fair when Morty made them for me.”
“You can moan about that after you show me what Niall thinks I need to see.”
Morty gave him a hopeful smile, and Toby tugged at the blanket to reveal the predicament in his sleep pants. “Don’t go blamin’ me if I traumatize you.” His body hadn’t quit humming with arousal, not since he’d sniffed his hoodie.
Morty blinked repeatedly before shifting his attention up. “That’s… impressive.”
“Yes, well, you don’t need to go on about it. It happened after I smelled my hoodie.”
“Oh my gosh! It’s the dude who saved you and brought you to the hospital, isn’t it!” He looked at Niall for confirmation.
He grinned and nodded. “See, you get it too.” Niall glanced back at Toby. “We just need to persuade Toby.”
See! I’m not the only one who knows you're daft.
Was he being daft? Wasn’t he just being cautious? Protecting himself from heartbreak? What his bird side said gave Toby a bigger concern. Why hadn’t his mate’s animal side come to hunt him down?
How could he do that when it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack? No, we need to fly to him. I know the way!
Toby eyed his friends, releasing a shuddery breath. “My bird wants me to shift and go find him. Except what if he thinks I’ve rejected him? Then what? And I can’t do it today, the doctor was clear I have to wait until my human side is fully healed. I’ll have to wait until after the café shuts tom—”
“You aren’t working tomorrow,” Niall said with force.
“We’ve got the café covered for tomorrow,” Morty replied at the same time as Niall.
They giggled at each other.
“We got you covered.” Morty tapped his leg.
See, all fixed. We’re going in the morning, even if I have to drag your self-doubting ass.
The flicker of hope he’d kept from catching light, flared with life as he slowly nodded, the giddy feeling nothing to do with his concussion and everything to do with going to find his mate. “Okay… I’m doing this!”