Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Ari
I wanted to wait in the dressing room for Felix, but as the other players started coming in after their practice and looking at me funny, I relocated back to the office instead.
I probably could have come up with a reason for needing to be in the dressing room, but my presence might still have made the players uncomfortable.
So I send Felix a text asking him to please come and find me, or call me—whichever he prefers—and then busy myself with some of the technical details for one of the upcoming planned events, wondering how long it’s going to take our PR department to free up someone to take over from me.
I see the value in what I’m doing here, but that doesn’t mean I enjoy it.
I last only fifteen minutes before opening a browser and accessing one of the better community information forums. We were introduced to this part of the internet at the same time we were taught how to use the internet, and I’ve been grateful for it over the years.
While CSG were diligent about putting together information we’d need to know about our new world and the species that live here, some things are so entrenched in their lives and beings that it didn’t occur to them that we might not know about them.
Hence my attachment to search engines and online sources.
Plus, I know what it’s like to only get information from one source, and I’ll never fall into that trap again.
I type in shifter reproductive puberty, then, after one glance at the thousands of results, begin refining my search parameters.
The first few sources I read through confirm what Felix told me and add a few small details.
I make notes of things I want to look into further, including the fact that endorphins can help to moderate the effect of puberty hormones.
Shouldn’t that mean that Felix is in a better place than most other shifters going through the same thing?
Exercise releases endorphins, and Felix, as an athlete, exercises all the time.
I tweak the search, narrowing the results specifically to athletes, and I’m only a little surprised when some peer-reviewed journal articles appear in the results.
I’m deep into the second article when my phone rings, Felix’s name on the display.
“Hi. Did… how are you?” I try not to sound concerned. If Locke proved to be as smart as I think he is, Felix still has a job. And if he doesn’t, what I’m reading right now may well prove to be the basis of his unfair dismissal case.
“I’m good,” he says, and there’s a note of amazement in his voice. He almost sounds giddy. “Listen, I have some stuff to do right now, but I’m having dinner with Jared and Dáithí tonight, and if you want, you could come? I feel like you deserve some answers after I unloaded on you.”
“Yes.” I don’t even need to think about it. “I’ll be here until four, but text me the details and I’ll meet you wherever.”
“Great! I’ve gotta go, but, uh, thanks, Ari. Telling Coach was the right thing to do, and I’m glad you encouraged me to do it.”
Warmth spreads through my chest. “You’re welcome.”
We end the call, and I return my attention to the screen.
The information here about intensive exercise and the adrenaline spikes associated with competitive sports as opposed to regular exercise is interesting, but the author goes on to show some fascinating data about endorphin release that reminds me of some research our team was read in on a few years back.
I pick up my phone again, then hesitate.
This isn’t technically any of my business.
Felix might be grateful that I suggested he tell his coach about his puberty, and he might want us to be friends, but he hasn’t asked for my help.
Reading up on what he’s going through so I can understand better is one thing, but actively reaching out to a scientist and asking for feedback based on Felix’s specific situation might be a little intrusive.
Or a lot. It probably crosses the boundaries of friendship, and given how delicate things are between us right now, I don’t know if I want to do that.
On the other hand, I might be able to get some information that will genuinely help Felix.
Because while all the articles and medical sites I’ve seen so far agree that proper diet and management of adrenaline spikes help to mitigate the more aggressive and emotional hormonal surges, none of them have addressed sexual hormones, except to describe how big of a problem they can be.
But sexual arousal is a very personal thing, and maybe Felix would rather I stayed away from the subject of his.
What a dilemma.
I know what I should do. What the right thing to do is. At the very least, I should ask Felix if he wants me to look into this or give him contact details for the relevant people so he can call them himself.
That would be the unselfish way to do it.
So why did I already dial?
Before I can convince myself to hang up, the call connects.
“Rhys Griffiths.”
“Dr. Griffiths, hello. This is Ari Oensjord from the DEA. I hope you’re well.
” I’ve only met Rhys Griffiths a few times.
He’s a researcher who developed a sex study that ultimately may prevent the Earth species from evolving to lose their nonhuman abilities.
Eoin and Caoimhe are the elves assigned to liaise with that study, but I’ve subbed in for Eoin when he had to deal with something else.
And, of course, I signed up for the study myself.
How could I not, when the data being gathered is being used for such a worthy cause?
“Uh, yes, of course. And you?”
“I’m fine, thank you. I’m sorry to interrupt your day, but I have some questions that I’m hoping you’ll be able to answer.”
“About the study? Is there a problem with—”
“There’s no problem, Dr. Griffiths. This isn’t about the study, though I’m hoping to take advantage of your expertise. I have a friend—”
“Ohhh. A friend.”
Belatedly, I realize how that sounded and chuckle awkwardly. “Actually, he really is a friend. A felid shifter. I promise, if I had sex questions about myself, I’m mature enough to own up to that.”
It’s his turn to chuckle. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me. I suppose I’m just surprised. But please, go ahead and ask your questions, and I’ll answer if I can.”
“Thank you. Like I said, my friend is a felid shifter, and he’s currently undergoing reproductive puberty.” I pause, suddenly unsure if I’ll need to explain that. Griffiths is a sorcerer, and maybe he doesn’t—
“Poor fellow. I’d always heard stories about how hard that could be for shifters, but it wasn’t until I saw the data in the study show what they were going through that I really understood.”
I let my eyes fall momentarily closed in relief. Okay, good. He knows what it is, and he’s seen it impact his research. “Yes, exactly. I don’t know a lot about it, but I’ve been doing some reading, and I think it’s been exacerbated for him because he’s a professional athlete.”
“Hmm. The adrenaline spikes. This isn’t my field of expertise, but I did do some research so I could better assess the data I was getting, and yes, the effect is magnified for anyone dealing with more adrenaline than the baseline norm. Histamine has a similar effect, which is interesting.”
Histamine? I don’t even know what that is.
I scribble a note to look into it, but I don’t want to ask now and potentially get sidetracked.
“I’ve only just started reading up on this, but so far I’ve found several resources for diet and exercise planning to manage the adrenaline and reduce hormonal volatility, but nothing about how to handle sexual hormones.
I was hoping you might be able to share some insights or at least point me toward resources. ”
There’s a little pause, and then Griffiths makes a humming sound. “You know, I don’t think I’ve seen any research on that either.”
My stomach sinks. No. I can’t tell Felix that he’s doomed to be horny in public for however much longer this takes. I want to solve his problems for him.
But Griffiths is still talking. “…probably because it’s not considered to be a problem.
Violent outbursts are dangerous to others, and a lot of people become uncomfortable when someone is openly emotional, so those would have been areas of research to prioritize.
Increased sexual appetite in adults is regarded as either a minor nuisance or a good thing and can generally be solved without expert intervention. ”
Without expert… “Do you mean it can be solved by having sex?” That’s an obvious answer, but—
“Yes, or by self-gratification,” he says matter-of-factly. “But I’m guessing that’s not what you wanted to hear.”
“It’s not so much that I don’t want to hear it, Doctor.
The thing is, it’s not always a practical solution.
My friend gets painfully aroused in nonsexual situations in public places, and my understanding is that it doesn’t go away easily.
Isn’t there something he could add to a training or management plan that would reduce the frequency and severity of…
” I trail off, because I’m running out of ways to sound professional about this.
“That’s a good question,” he muses. “It’s not one I’ve had to factor into my research, because this is a sex study. Some of my data might…” He trails off, and I wait patiently for a few moments.
And then a few more.
My patience begins to thin.
“Dr. Griffiths?” I say at last, a little worried that the call might have dropped out.
“Yes. Can you leave this with me? I’m afraid I don’t know of any resources that address this, but I’ll ask around with some of my colleagues who might.
I also want to have a look at my data. I’ve never considered this question before, so it’s possible there might be something useful there that I never noticed. ”
“Thank you, I’d appreciate that very much.” I exhale deeply.
“It’s no trouble.” He sounds amused now, probably due to my dramatic sigh. “This friend, he must be special.”
“He is, he’s—” Oh. “No, we’re just friends.”
“But you wish it was more?”
“No” sits on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t say it.
Fuck. Why can’t I say it? Felix and I are barely even friends.
A week ago, it wouldn’t have been a stretch to say we were…
not enemies, I’ve had actual enemies before and it’s considerably different.
But I wouldn’t have corrected anyone who said we didn’t like each other.
It’s different now.
“I see,” Griffiths says. “Well, I’m sure he’ll be grateful for the effort you’re making on his behalf, regardless. He’s going through so much right now that the support of his friends can only help.” He pauses. “And, you know, sometimes there’s a fine line between friendship and more.”
I swallow hard. “It’s not like that,” I protest, but there’s no conviction behind it. Damn him for being so perceptive. Aren’t scientists supposed to be so wrapped up in their research that they don’t notice things like feelings?
Dr. Griffiths doesn’t argue. “Text me your email address, and I’ll send over any resources I come across, but if I find anything helpful in my data, I’ll give you a call. It might take a week or so,” he warns. “I can’t give this priority over my other work.”
“I understand,” I assure him, relieved to be back on firmer conversational ground. “I really do appreciate your help, Doctor.”
The call ends, and my phone chimes with a new message.
Felix:
Dinner at Dáithí’s place because Eoin’s working tonight. Do you have the address? We’re meeting at 6:30.
Fuck. What was I thinking? If I go to this dinner, I’ll be facing an inquisition at work tomorrow.
Sure, my bosses wanted me and Felix to get along better, but I don’t think they thought it would happen this fast—or be this successful.
I can fob off questions from Rhys Griffiths, who I barely know, but Eoin will be much harder to deter.
I should back out of dinner.
See you there.