by JC Holly
If Snow had taken offense, he hid it well. With a shrug, he stood and rapped his fingers on the table as he glanced back out the door.
“Know where he is?”
“Working,” Hudson said. “After that he’s heading home to meet some friends. I’d catch him after that.”
Snow nodded, and held out a hand, which Hudson shook. “Cheers, pal. Want me to report back?”
“No, it’s fine. Micky will fill me in.”
As the man left, Hudson turned back to his meal, then pushed the plate away. Suddenly it didn’t seem so appetizing. He stood and headed to the lounge, dropping onto the sofa with a long sigh.
Despite being understanding with Snow, the whole idea of the two packs sniffing around for new recruits pissed him off. If they were more surreptitious about it, it wouldn’t be so bad, but he’d seen himself how heavy-handed they could be with their sell. Thankfully Snow had been chosen to do the recruiting. He was a good guy, if a little eccentric. He’d take a “no” the first time hearing it.
If Micky said no, that was. Maybe he’d like the idea of being surrounded by other shifters.
Hudson thumped his feet onto the coffee table and flipped on the TV. All he could do was wait.
* * * *
Micky had never felt like more of a fraud.
Normally when friends arrived, he’d meet them at the door and either shake hands or hug before leading them into the front room. Instead he sat in the armchair and shouted that the door was open.
He eyed the wheelchair he’d placed artfully beside him as footsteps approached. Not only did he not need the thing, he’d probably never need one ever again, what with his new healing ability. Still, for the purposes of his charade, it was necessary.
Laura was the first in, and started on the questioning immediately.
“Where’s Hudson?” she asked, as she bent to kiss Micky’s forehead.
“He had to run an errand, so I had him set me up in here before he went.”
“He left you alone?” Her frown brought her eyebrows crashing down. “An invalid—”
“I told him to,” Micky said, over the top of her. “I wanted time with my friends. And the next time you say invalid, I’m kicking your ass.”
“Sorry.” She held up her hands in a gesture of surrender, then sat. “I’m just worried, is all. What if you fell?”
“I’d get up again. I can walk a little, I just tire easy. Getting better every day, though.”
It was a little more elaborate than Hudson would have liked, but seeing Laura’s expression was torture. He wanted her smiling, not pitying him.
“So, where are the rest?” he asked.
“On their way. I think Rhys said he was picking the others up. Shouldn’t be long.”
As if they’d heard her, a moment later there was a knock on the door, and Micky’s senses told him it was the missing three guys. Luckily, as Micky moved to stand, forgetting he shouldn’t, Laura turned her head toward the front of the house and didn’t notice his movement. As she left to let their friends in, Micky breathed a sigh of relief.
“I could never be a secret agent,” he muttered to himself.
Rhys was the first into the living room, followed by George and Craig, and as usual did the brunt of the talking. Micky hadn’t seen him in quite a while, though, so he let the man prattle on for a while. Once Rhys had finished catching them all up on what he’d been up to, the conversation turned back to Micky.
“So what was it like?” Rhys asked, nodding at Micky’s legs.
Micky frowned. “The crash? Incredibly painful, followed by no pain whatsoever, then a hell of a lot more pain.”
Compared to the previous night, the pain had been tame, but he could hardly mention that.
Laura punched Rhys on the arm. “What kind of question is that to ask?”
Rhys held up his hands in surrender. “Sorry. I just…never talked to anyone who’s been through something like this, you know?”
Micky nodded in what he considered an understanding way. “It’s fine. Honestly, I don’t remember much of the crash. We were driving home, I was distracted because I was horny, and some drunk guy hit us head on.”
A ripple of murmurs spread amongst the four listeners, culminating in Craig frowning. “How come Hudson was okay, then?”
Shit. “Well, when I say head on, I mean head on to me. I swerved and the guy hit my corner of the car. Hudson had a few scrapes and bruises, but he’s fine.”
Laura smirked. “Even in a moment of sheer terror, you managed to protect your guy’s pretty face.”
Micky laughed. “Well, you’ve seen him. Who’d want to mess that up?”
“I’d like to make a mess all over his ass with my co—”
“Not one more word.” Micky hit Rhys with a glare, but only in jest. “The stay in the clinic was nice, I must admit,” he said in an effort to change the subject.
“Oh, right!” Craig leaned forward. “Who did you see in there?”
Micky glanced around the house, as if looking for eavesdroppers. “Promise not to tell anyone?”
“Sure.”
Micky leaned in and dropped his voice. “Promise.”
George held up his palm in an oath. “On my mother’s grave.”
All of them were leaning in now, and Micky glanced around once more before saying, “Absolutely nobody.”
His friends groaned or cursed and Micky straightened, grinning wide.
“Nobody at all?” Laura asked. “I thought the place was supposed to be celeb heaven.”
“It is, but it’s all private rooms or curtained beds. Besides, I was out of it for a bunch of my time in there. They have the best drugs.”
“Probably so you won’t notice their other patients.”
Micky nodded in agreement, then leaned in for his water. Laura jumped up to grab it for him, and he grudgingly took it from her. Seeing his expression, she merely shrugged.
“Look,” she said. “You may be on the mend, but there’s no point straining when you don’t have to.”
Straining? I’m pretty sure I could bench press all four of you, including the sofa, while catching a Frisbee in my teeth. He swallowed his frustration and smiled and thanked her instead. He could imagine the whole “sick” routine becoming old fast, along with all the lying that went along with it. He wasn’t a deceitful person by nature, so the whole thing stuck in his throat.
“I’m doing well, the physio said.” He sat back with his water, then lifted a leg. “See? I’m following all the exercises, and Hudson’s making sure I stick to them.”
“He’s a good guy,” Rhys said. “A lot of boyfriends would disappear, I think. Especially given how a short a time you were together before the accident.”
“He’s the best,” Micky agreed. “And I mean that in every sense of the word.”
That got Rhys’ full attention, and Micky spent the next five minutes fielding his friend’s incredibly filthy questions. He answered a few, but kept the juiciest details to himself. Besides, he could hardly tell them everything about what he and Hudson had been up to. It would be hard work to push a wheelchair to a cabin, so he kept his stories to either his or Hudson’s house. It still seemed to titillate his audience.
After talk of sex came talk of the relationship itself, and Micky was more than happy to extoll Hudson’s virtues. Even if he hadn’t saved Micky’s life, he’d still have had a hard time finding fault. The more he talked about their time together, the more he realized he never wanted it to end. Thankfully that was a distinct possibility, given their now-shared nature.
As he told them about his future plans with Hudson, Micky found himself missing the man more and more. They had only been apart for a few hours at most, but it was a few hours too many, so when the visit began to wind down once more, Micky was happy to lie and say he was feeling tired.
As his friends filed out of the room, Laura stayed behind for a moment to give Micky another hug and to thank him.
�
�For what?” he asked, genuinely perplexed.
“For bringing Bill to that party,” she said, smiling. “He’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”
Micky returned the smile. “I’m glad you’re happy. He’s a nice guy.”
“He sure is.” She turned to leave. “Hung like a bull, too.”
Micky laughed aloud as she walked away. She didn’t leave, though, instead pausing at the door. Another scent wafted inside and Micky fought to place it.
“Can I help you?” Laura asked, out of sight of Micky.
“Oh, yeah. I’m looking for Micky?”
While the scent had been hard to identify, the accent certainly wasn’t. It was Snow, from the clinic.
“Let him in,” Micky called from the chair. “He’s a friend of Hudson’s.”
Laura did as she was asked, then shouted a good-bye and closed the door behind her. As soon as Micky heard her car start, he jumped to his feet as Snow stepped into the room. He eyed the area, then nodded at Micky.
“Hello. How’s it going?”
“Glad to be able to stand again,” Micky said, as he stretched his legs. “Not a fan of the charade.”
Snow shrugged. “Won’t be much longer now, eh?”
“True. So, what can I do for you? Hudson need me?”
“Nah, this isn’t a social call.”
Micky frowned. “Then what is it?”
Snow smiled. “Recruitment.”
Chapter Eighteen
Micky’s frown deepened. Recruitment? He’d half expected someone to mention him joining a pack, but so soon, and so direct?
“Mind if I sit?” Snow asked, gesturing to the sofa.
“Oh, sorry. Go ahead.” Micky remained upright and a little confused. “What do you mean by recruitment.”
“Well, short version is that my pack wants more people, and I’m here to ask if you’ll join.” The pale man flicked his long ponytail over his shoulder. “Usually we’re pretty persistent, but you’re Hudson’s boyfriend, and he’s a friend, so if you say no, that’s good enough for me.”
“Thanks, I guess.”
Snow nodded. “I’ll still give you the full sell, though, if you don’t mind. Makes for good practice.”
“Sure thing. You want something to drink?”
Snow asked for a cup of tea, and Micky headed to the kitchen to flip on the kettle. If he was honest, he had wondered about packs. He knew Hudson’s opinion on them, and his reasons for that opinion, but Micky wanted to make up his own mind. Besides, given Hudson’s dislike he wasn’t the most impartial person to ask questions. Neither was Snow, given that he clearly had no problem with being in a pack, but between the pair of them Micky could probably find something approaching an unbiased answer.
Being a coffee person, it took Micky a little while to make a cup of tea, and he wasn’t too sure about the quality of the bags, but if Snow minded he certainly didn’t show it.
“Okay,” Micky said, as he sat down with a coffee. “Begin the sell.”
“Let’s start with what you know.” Snow sipped his tea, then placed it back on the table. “What has Hudson told you?”
“Well, he said that packs are a collection of shifters who come together in a hierarchy that’s topped by an alpha. He or she is in charge, but it’s usually pretty democratic. Some packs allow any member to challenge the leader of the pack for their position.” Micky felt his cheeks color. “Uh, that’s about it.”
Snow smiled. “It’s more than most newbies know, and it’s surprisingly fair, given how Hudson feels about packs.”
“I get the sense that he wants me to form my own opinion.”
“That sounds like Hud, yeah. Anyway, you’ve got the gist of what a pack is. We’re a collective of shifters, new and old, and we operate a little like a club most of the time. We have regular meet-ups where we discuss local news and gossip, and deal with any issues our members might have, be they trivial or serious. We’re kinda like a support group with considerably more nights out.”
Micky smirked. “Sounds pretty good, I must admit. What about the alpha? What’s the point of having a tiered system with someone on top if it’s more of a support group?”
“Well, sometimes we’re required to do more than just drink,” Snow admitted with a shrug. “We mostly get on with the other pack, other than a few philosophical issues, but every now and again a troublemaker wanders into the territory and starts making trouble. In those cases, the alpha is in charge of dealing with it, either through delegation, or personally.”
“Personally?”
The man nodded. “Alphas don’t get to be alphas without the odd show of strength or cunning. They also don’t last long without them.”
“So you can challenge the alpha, like in other packs?”
“You can, but I wouldn’t recommend it.” He laughed. “He likes to keep some of the old ways intact, but it’s not as brutal as you’d think. He doesn’t fight to the death unless the challenger wants it.”
“Oh, how civilized.”
He’d said it jokingly, but Micky wasn’t entirely kidding. The idea of being in a group that considered it normal to try and kill the boss seemed more than a little worrying. The advantages of support and friendship were nice, but didn’t he already have those with Hudson and his existing friends? Snow was a nice guy, sure, and no doubt most of the others in the pack were, too, but Micky wasn’t sure that he needed any more friends. The last thing he’d want was to lose contact with some because he was spending too much time with others. He tried not to sigh aloud and sipped at his cooling drink.
“So, it’s normal to come around someone’s house and recruit them?” Micky asked, moving the conversation onto less confusing ground.
“Often, yeah.” Snow sat back on the couch and draped his arms over the back. “Count yourself lucky. It’s been known for some of the members of the other pack to practically stalk newbies. That’s the problem with having quotas.”
“Quotas?”
“Ridiculous, ain’t it? Doesn’t exactly guarantee the best quality members.”
“So will I be getting a visit from them, too?”
“Could be, but I doubt it. As soon as I’m done here I’ll pass on the information to my pack, and it’ll invariably make its way to the Brooks, too. If you say yes, there’s no point in them trying, and if you say no I’ll be happy to make you sound unattractive to them if you like.” Snow leaned forward. “I would like to point one thing out, before you make up your mind.”
Micky cocked his head to one side. “Go on.”
“You’re going to live a very long time. You’re going to watch people you love grow old and die, and some may curse you for not doing the same. Been there.” Snow smiled, sadly. “Having a group of guys around you that are going through the same thing helps.”
Micky nodded in thanks, then turned back to his coffee as a distraction while he thought. The more he considered the idea of a pack, though, the more obvious his choice became. On the other side, the more he thought about Hudson the more worried he became. As Snow had just said, they’d be together for a damn long time. Would Hudson be just as willing to commit to the relationship a few decades down the line?
That was a discussion he’d have to have with Hudson, though, not Snow, and soon. With a nod, he placed the cup on the table and glanced up at Snow.
“I’ve made my decision.”
* * * *
Hudson sat at the kitchen table, his fingers drumming a staccato beat on the wood. Micky was due back any time, and every minute that ticked past seemed an eternity. Chances were that Micky wouldn’t be interested in joining a pack, and even if he did, Hudson wasn’t going anywhere, but he had to admit his worries, if only to himself.
Fifteen achingly long minutes later, Micky’s scent wafted in from the front of the house, and Hudson jumped to his feet to let the man inside. They kissed, and Micky pulled Hudson close enough that his cock stirred in his pants in response. A good sign, that, surely?
“So, how was the meeting?” Hudson asked, as they walked back to the kitchen. “Everyone okay?”
“Yeah, they’re all fine.” Micky gestured to the chairs. “Take a seat. I want to talk about something.”
Hudson nodded and did as he was told, his stomach suddenly churning. “What’s up?”
Micky walked to the sink and poured himself some water. He sipped it, then swallowed hard and placed the glass on the counter before turning to Hudson.
“Snow came by afterwards.”
Hudson nodded. “I know. I didn’t want to tell you, since it’s a—”
“Personal choice,” Micky finished for him. “I’m thankful for that, though it was still hard to make a decision.”
“Well, if you want to discuss anything, I’m here.”
It sounded like there wasn’t much to discuss, though, and it was confirmed a moment later.
“I’m not joining Snow’s pack. Or any other, for that matter.”
Hudson grinned and stood. “That’s great news. Of course, I would’ve supported your choice either way.”
Micky smiled and accepted Hudson’s hug. “I know. There’s something else, though.”
“Oh?” Hudson broke the hug and couldn’t hide his frown. “What is it?”
It was Micky’s turn to sit. He picked up his glass and brought it with him, cradling it as if for support. It took a few sips before he worked up the courage to speak again.
“You and I,” he said. “We work well together, right?”
Hudson’s stomach churned all the more. What was this? “Sure,” he managed to reply. “I love you, you know that.”
“I do, yeah. And I love you, too. It’s just that, well, you’re old. Very old.” Micky shook his head, as if he didn’t mean what he’d said. “I mean that you’ll live a damn long time. And now I will, too.”
Hudson nodded in reply. He didn’t know what else to do. After a moment, Micky went on.
“The idea of living for so long kinda scares me,” he admitted. “Thinking I’d live to be eighty or so was one thing, but adding another zero to that number?” He laughed. “That’s crazy.”
