Bunny Hearts Bear

by V. Vaughn

  She gasps with a cry forcing itself out, and it’s killing me that I can’t make it better. “Hillary—”

  She steps back and covers her mouth, and I’m not sure why, but I blurt out, “I’m injured.” Her eyes widen, and since I’ve already told her my secret, I continue to clarify. “I wrecked my knee and I… well, I might be home for good.”

  She blinks and swipes away tears before a scowl covers her face. “Are you serious?”

  I nod and let her see how difficult this news is for me. No reason to hide it now.

  “Oh, Alec. When did it happen? You just won the—” Her eyes widen, and it gives away the fact that she watched me play, though it may have been for the commercials like a lot of people, but she must have heard what happened. “I heard that—” She shakes her head. “Was it when you hobbled off the field and then you were suddenly okay again?”

  I nod. “It’s not getting better. The doctor is trying to convince me it never will be good enough for me to play again.”

  “Hmpf. Human doctor, right?”

  She always used to have my back, and it warms my heart she still does in a small way. “No, I found a really great shifter doctor who deals with sports injuries.”

  “What about surgery?”

  “Can’t. My body tries to undo whatever he does.”

  “Ah.” She chuckles dryly at herself. “Sorry, I’m sure you’ve tried everything and I’m asking stupid questions. No surgery though? That’s tough.” She scans my body with her gaze, and I can’t help it… I tighten my abs as she says, “I can see it. Your bear is stubborn that way.”

  Hillary’s expression is compassionate, and it fills my heart further with my love for her. She asks, “What happens when you shift?”

  “I—” I give her a sheepish grin, because I haven’t dared to shift since I got home. I’m not ready to find out I’m not able to run as a bear either.

  “You need to test it, Alec,” she chides. She shakes her head, and I know she means it when she says, “I’m truly sorry to hear about your injury. That must be really hard. I know how much football means to you.”

  Yeah. She’s not saying it to hurt me, but my past actions made it clear football meant more to me than she did. She adjusts the strap of her purse on her shoulder like she’s ready to walk away.

  “I shouldn’t have burdened you with that,” I say. “I didn’t mean to. I really only wanted to tell you how sorry I am that I hurt you.”

  She speaks in a matter-of-fact tone. “Maybe you didn’t mean to tell me, but it’s proof you’re still the Alec Thompson who left me for the game. And it should tell you something, too. I’m sure that works for all your other girls, but being number two will never work for me.”

  Her words are like a slap in the face, and she has every right to feel that way. I haven’t given her a reason not to. I know that no matter what I say to tell her how much she means to me, it would only be words she won’t believe.

  Hillary takes a step back. “I’ve got to go.” She gives me a small smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Take care of yourself.”

  “Sure.” I watch her walk away from me, down the sidewalk we used to walk together hand in hand. I keep hoping she’ll turn around to see if I’m watching, but she doesn’t, and she turns the corner and disappears from view.

  My throat gets thick as sadness fills me. She’s just as important to me as football, and I wish I’d seen I could have had both. But I didn’t, and now I wonder if I have to choose her over football to prove how I feel. Would she even take me back if I did? Now, after all these years?

  I get back on my bike and rev the engine before I start to drive back to the house. What I really want to do is roar with my frustration. But I’ll save that for when I’m alone in the woods. She’s right, I do need to shift and test my knee. I need to find out if I have a second chance at anything.

  Chapter 7

  ALEC

  Thankfully Bruce is working at the auto body shop when I get home, and I decide it’s a good time for me to try and shift without him looming over me, judging me. That judgment is his right as my brother and the guy who helped raise me. And I get that it stems from concern, but I’ve got enough to deal with right now.

  The biggest reason I’ve been avoiding a shift is because I’m afraid it will tell me for sure if my knee is ever going return to full capabilities. I did try a few times over the past month in Florida, and to my horror, at first I couldn’t shift at all.

  It could have been that my bear didn’t feel safe out of his element, but it scared me to death to think that I wouldn’t be able to shift again. My bear, that big beast, had been scared too. But the next week we tried again, and it worked, only the pain was even worse than as a human.

  “Hey, big fella,” I say to him as I walk to the back of the house and strip down. “Let’s see if we’re going to be okay.”

  He lets out a growl of determination. One thing my bear has most of the time is an overabundance of confidence. I think we’re going to need it.

  As I inhale long deep breaths of air, I think about my bear, picture him in my mind. I can feel him striding back and forth, impatiently waiting to come out and bask in the warm sunlight. I close my eyes and force the shift through my body. My bones elongate and shorten, rearrange themselves as the girth of my body expands with thick muscle, fat and fur. My knee crackles and pops like a bowl of rice cereal. It always hurts a little to shift, but this pain is intense and shoots through me like lightning, threatening to set me on fire. It’s so bad I nearly stop mid-shift, but I know that would be stupid and I’d probably damage my body even worse.

  I push through the agony and burning until I am finally in my bear form. I shake out my big body to get my fur to lay right and feel comfortable. It’s been too long, and it feels like airing out a closed-up cabin for the summer.

  I walk around the yard, sniffing everything. All of my senses are on alert. But pain zips through my rear left knee, and the best I can do is limp. My bear wants to bound into the woods and run and chase squirrels up trees, but I can’t do it. And that’s what I was afraid of.

  My bear doesn’t want to admit he’s upset and needs to exert some dominance, so I limp over to the bushes alongside the yard, lift up my leg, and pee all over them. It’s been six years since I’ve scented this yard, and it’s due for a watering. Bruce will be pissed and probably pee on top of it, but for now my bear will take the win.

  Sorry buddy, I say to my bear, we’ll go running another day.

  He growls in response, not any happier about our injury than I am.

  Mate.

  My bear can’t get pleasure from exercise right now, so he’s turned to the need for a woman. Hillary.

  Ever since we saw her again, the need to mate has been vibrating inside me. And it’s about more than sex. If that was all we needed, I could find it easily enough. But both my bear and I will only be happy if with one woman. Our mate.

  I lie on my stomach in the middle of the yard again and shift back to my human form. Coming back this way is faster but still painful. It’s not how it should be.

  When I’m done, I lay on the grass a little while longer, trying to catch my breath. My skin is slick with sweat, and my muscles quiver from the exertion of the shift. It’s not the healthy exhaustion I get after a practice with the team or a hard game, though. It’s off. I sit up, take in a deep breath, and then get to my feet, stumbling a little as my knee throbs. I walk to the deck and put my clothes back on. Just as I finish getting dressed, the back door opens and Bruce lumbers out with two cans of beer in his hand.

  He sniffs the air. “Damn it, Alec. You had to scent the yard?” It was something I did a lot when I was in high school. Mostly when I wasn’t happy with his form of parenting. But I’m old enough now that my bear shouldn’t be acting that way. He scowls at me. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “I saw you limping as a bear, Alec. Something’s wrong.” He hands me a beer
then sits in one of the deck chairs. I accept the offering and the chance to talk about what’s bugging me.

  I pop the top and take a long pull. The cool liquid soothes my throat, and I wish it had enough alcohol to help take the edge off my mood. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “I blew my knee out at the championships.”

  “I saw. You’ve done that a couple time now. We heal that stuff like we’re scratchin’ an itch.”

  “We’re supposed to.” I drain the beer then set the can down on the deck.

  He frowns. “But you’re not.”

  “Nope. Not the way I should be.”

  “Fuck,” he says softly.

  I nod. “Yeah, that’s about the sum of it.”

  “That’s why you’re home.”

  I nod again. “I need some down time. Time to really heal, and I figured home was the place to do it.”

  He grunts, “What’s the doctor say?”

  I shrug. “Not much. You know doctors.”

  I can’t bear to tell him what my doctor told me. I can’t bear to see the pity in his eyes when I tell him I might not ever be able to play football again. That I failed.

  He eyes me carefully. “You should get a second opinion. Never hurts to talk to another doctor.”

  I’d been thinking about the same thing. Maybe I could go see the doctor here in Heartland. He deals with shifters every day. Maybe he’s seen something or done something a sports medicine guy may not have thought of.

  I sigh because it’s a long shot.

  One I’m afraid to take and be let down again.

  I surprise myself when I wonder if Hillary would come with me. I know it makes sense I’d want her by my side, being that she’s my mate and all. But considering she told me to leave her alone, it isn’t something I can even consider asking.

  I need another beer. Maybe a whole case of it.

  As if he read my mind, Bruce gets up, goes into the house, and comes back with the rest of the six-pack. The two of us sit on the deck and drink the beers in silence. I’m not sure what he’s thinking about, but I’m kicking myself for ruining the best thing I never realized I had. And it’s not football.

  Chapter 8

  HILLARY

  The dryer door slams shut, and the machine whirrs when I push the button to turn it on. I lied to Alec about having someone waiting for me at home. My intention was to reinforce the fact I don’t want him in my life, but now I feel horrible for adding to his misery.

  And I feel a little guilty. I used to fantasize about him getting injured and not being able to play. All so he’d come home to me and realize what a mistake he’d made. I never expected it to really happen.

  I hoist a basket of clean laundry onto my hip and make my way into my bedroom where I dump it on my bed to fold. I know my daydreams aren’t what caused Alec’s injury, but I can’t stop thinking about how devastating this must be for him.

  I snap out a pair of jeans before folding them. The idea of not being able to heal is something that would bother any shifter, and—wait! Oh my god. I recall a guy I met bungee jumping. Doug Parker. He was an orthopedist who was also a shifter, and we dated briefly. I recall him bragging about how he could fix even the most impossible injuries. Doug was definitely full of himself, which seems to be a trait I like in a man. But while he may have been exaggerating, it makes me wonder if he could help Alec.

  There’s only one way to find out. I go to the kitchen to grab my phone and find his number so I can shoot the good doctor a text asking if he has any experience with fixing stubborn knees.

  It’s not until afterward that I consider what I’ve done. Doug had a hard time with me breaking things off. Being a hyena shifter, he’s got an ego the size of Montana, and he couldn’t believe I didn’t think the world revolved around him. To be fair, I was still hung up on Alec and nothing he could have done would have made me want to be together for long. What worries me is that Doug may think I’m using this as a ploy to get back together. But if he can help Alec, it will be worth the hassle.

  I smile as I lift a stack of T-shirts to put in a drawer. It might give me a little satisfaction to watch Alec squirm with jealousy. I glance down at my phone, hoping Doug will reply right away. Like most people, though, he probably has a life, and I shouldn’t expect to get an answer just yet.

  I wander into the living room and plop down on the couch with the intention of watching a chick flick, and I think about my friend Lexi, wishing she were here. Now that she’s married, she’s never around to hang out. I get it, she’s head over heels for her mate, Tristan, who she married only months ago, and it could be a while before they come up for air. But it would be nice to see her again. She’s the kind of girlfriend I need to spill this whole Alec thing to. I send her a quick text asking when we can get together.

  Once I find a movie that looks interesting, I struggle to pay attention. My bunny is too full of energy, and I decide what I really need is a good frolic in the woods.

  Yes! All the way to Alec’s!

  Darn it. If I let my bunny loose, she’s going straight for what she wants. Alec. But I have an idea. I have a garden in my backyard just so I can nibble on the fresh veggies and leaves when my bunny wants to. I also have a fence up around it to keep it safe from the pesky racoon shifter down the road. He’s helped himself to my veggies more than once and isn’t even polite about it.

  I go out and shift inside the fence to let my bunny bounce around. After we get our fill of bunny food and I’m human again, I am able to relax. I watch my movie and get a good night’s sleep.

  When I get up in the morning, I’m pleased to see I have a text from Doug, and he suggests I call him to discuss my issues. I grab a cup of coffee and sit at the kitchen table before I make my call.

  “Hillary,” he coos as if he thinks I’m about to beg for his affection.

  “Doug, good to hear your voice. Thanks for getting back to me.”

  “Sure thing, babe. Talk to me. What thrill seeking thing did you do this time?”

  “This isn’t about me. I have a friend whose career is in jeopardy. He’s a football player with a knee that won’t heal. I think it’s because he’s injured it too many times and his body has given up.” I pour on the charm even if my tone makes me want to gag. “When he told me about it, of course, I thought of you.”

  “Oh,” Doug says with what I think is disappointment in his voice.

  So, I pull out my trump card. “His name is Alec Thompson. You may have heard of him.”

  “Al—Al—Alec Thompson?” I can practically see the spittle coming out of his mouth as he sputters. “The Alec Thompson? The GOAT?”

  “Ah, I think that term refers to Tom Brady.”

  “Oh, Hillary. Silly bunny, you have no idea. Alec Thompson is most definitely going to be the greatest of all time. He just needs a few more years to catch up.”

  I sigh, because right now that doesn’t look promising. “Well, if that’s going to happen, he needs his knee to work again.”

  “Right. Yeah, babe. I can totally fix him up.” Keys click in the background. “I’ve got wiggle room today if you can bring him in here.”

  “If I can get him there?”

  He chuckles. “A guy with a bum knee shouldn’t be driving. Stress on the joint and all.” His hyena peeks out when his tone gets conniving. “You understand, don’t you?”

  I understand perfectly. Doug may be excited to do this for a famous player like Alec, but I’m the icing on the cake and I better not disappoint him. “Of course. I’ll let you know when we can be there.”

  “I suggest you wear a skirt. One of those shorts ones I like.”

  I roll my eyes so hard they might pop out of my head, but I manage to hold my tongue and say, “As a matter of fact, that’s exactly what I’m wearing today. I’ll be in touch.” I hang up before I let him know what I’m really thinking.

  “Man alive, what have I just done?” I ask nobody in particular.

  My bunny answers anyway b
y bouncing up and down and doing flips with her excitement. She sure does love attention, and I think I’ve just set myself up for a good, old-fashioned, love-triangle fiasco.

  I let out a sigh and get ready for work.

  Running short on time, I don’t have a chance to call Alec until I’ve finished prepping the dining room for breakfast, and I move to the remote coffee station to contact him in private.

  He answers groggily, and I say, “Alec, I’m sorry to wake you, but I think you’ll be glad I did.”

  “Sure,” He clears his throat. “No worries. What’s up?”

  I can’t help the excitement that oozes out with my next words. “After we spoke yesterday, I remembered a guy I met bungee jumping. He’s an orthopedist and really good.”

  “How good?” Alec snaps at me, clearly asking about something other than his medical skills.

  I ignore it, knowing I’m still going to have to clarify things on the way to Doug’s office. “He’s very good at his job, Alec. And he’s agreed to squeeze you in today.”

  “Oh. Well…”

  I sigh, because I’m afraid Alec is scared to get his hopes up. “Alec, you really should get a second opinion.”

  “I know. It’s just—" He blows out a huff of air. “I shifted last night, and it didn’t go well.”

  My heart sinks. “I’m so sorry. But this is exactly why you should talk to Doug. Maybe he can help.”

  “Doug?”

  His growl makes me roll my eyes for the second time today, and I wonder if I can get away with not telling Alec I dated Doug. For a split second, that is. “Crazy, I know but when went bungee jumping, we all called each other by our first names.”

  “Right. Sorry, you know how jealous my bear is.”