Isolation Play (Dev and Lee) (49 page)

I open my eyes. The doors are wide open, the ferret’s gone. The pounding is getting louder. I take a step forward. It started above me and is descending, like—

A door I can’t see bursts open. Dev runs past the elevator doors, into the lobby. I hear the front doors rattle. Fleetingly, I consider pressing one of the upper floors, any one, just to not be around here if he comes back in, but then the doors start closing on their own.

One massive paw curls around the edge of the door, stopping its movement. Panting, he springs into the elevator, staring at me. His finger stabs at the button for six. I have a moment to open my mouth and then he’s on me, his bulk crushing me into the corner. I think I make some kind of choking or yelping noise before his arms wrap around me and we bang into the wall of the elevator.

At the same time, we yelp in pain. My thumb throbs where my cast slammed into the wall. He flinches around his ribs. His muzzle is pressed between my ears, and it’s wet. He smells of sweat and passion, but not sex, not anger. It’s an odd combination, but it fills me with so much relief I go a bit weak in the knees. The elevator doors close, slowly.

“
God damn you,” he mutters into my ears. “God
damn
you. You’re such a fucking idiot.”

The elevator starts to rumble upward. “I know,” I say. My voice cracks. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t even think they’d make stuff up....”

“
Not
that
,” he says. His arms tighten. “Walking out on me.”

“
Oh.” I press against him, not knowing what to say. “Well, you let me.”

“
Yeah,” he grumbles. “But I’m a jock. You’re s’posed to be the smart one.”

I press my nose into his chest and inhale his scent. Everything’s fucked up and I can’t remember being happier. “You crying?”

He snorts into my head fur. “No.”

“
Jeez, it hasn’t even been a whole hour,” I say.

He grabs my cheekruffs and tilts my muzzle up. I can see the matted fur around his eyes, his tender, exasperated expression. I can smell his tears now, too. “Doc,” he says, “for once in your fucking life, shut the fuck up.” And then he enforces that by pressing my muzzle to his.

I don’t need words, not any more. I close my eyes, and they don’t stay dry either.

Make-up sex is fucking awesome. There’s not a lot of foreplay, unless you count the fight. We’re both too desperate to get to that point where we’re together again. He lies on his back, muzzle pressed to my chest, legs hooked around my back. I thrust into him while he arches back, my nose full of his scent, my arms so tight around him I am never, never going to let him go again. He holds me just as tight.

I know he never intended to hurt me. Moving together the way we do, him allowing me inside, it’s all pretty fantastic. We twist and strain, pant and moan, yelp and growl, and climax like firecrackers. There’s heat and stars and everything is perfectly perfect in that moment. It’s like those early days when I had no idea what I was doing with him, just that it was the best I’d ever felt when fucking.

Now I know that that’s the “physical manifestation of our closeness.” I know that because Lee says that sometimes when we talk about sex. Doesn’t matter what he calls it. It’s good, and lying together afterwards is heaven. He nestles back into my arms, light and slender, and so, so warm. I hold him there, and he doesn’t squirm away. We don’t even get up to shower.

Later, I remember that I’m mad at him, too. By now, I should be used to being mad and in love at the same time, but I’m just as confused as ever. The only thing I’ve gained from going through it so often is the confidence that it doesn’t mean things are broken, or over. And with the haze of musk thick in the air and on our fur, it’s hard for me to be really mad.

But Lee, of course, might’ve thought that this was it. I mean, I did freak out a little more than usual. “It’s been such a bad week,” I say, lying next to him, his head in the crook of my shoulder, my arm curled around him. I did say a lot of bad stuff, and it makes me feel bad, even if he deserved it. I want to apologize to him, but I can’t bring myself to say the actual words.

“
I know.” He’s got a hold of my tail, rubbing gently. I curl it around his fingers. “I didn’t want to wait.”

“
No.” I sigh. “Fuck.”

“
The one thing,” he says, gripping my tail more tightly, “is do not under any circumstances tell Ogleby about this.”

“
Oh, God.”

“
It’s a tabloid. Nobody would’ve paid attention to Brian if Ogleby hadn’t made a big press release deal about it.”

I close my eyes, digging my fingers into his fur. “So what am I supposed to do about Mom?”

His chest rises and fall against my arm. “Talk to her. Tell her it wasn’t your fault.”

“
I don’t think she thinks it is.”

His long muzzle rests against my shoulder, his breath ruffling my fur. “Maybe you can go back. Without me. Just to show the neighbors everything’s normal.”

“
And then your cunning plan would have worked.”

He exhales, long. “Don’t they always?”

I squeeze him. “Can you maybe warn me next time you start one? No more surprises?”

His lean body shifts against mine. “If there’s time.” I growl, and extend my claws against his side. He squirms away from them. “Yes, yes, yes. I promise.”

“
So what’s your cunning plan with this reporter, this Kinnel guy?”

He stays tense against the claws. “I don’t really have one.”

I push a little more. He makes a little squeaking noise and presses against me. “He wants inside scoops every now and then. I promise I’ll ask you first. But if we need a media guy, someone on our side to help us with the press...he might’ve given us good advice on how to counter what Brian was saying, or how to deal with the fallout from that.”

I ease up. “But he’s the one who caused this problem.”

“
He didn’t write the article. I’m almost sure of it.”

“
Maybe I should meet him.”

“
I don’t...” He stops mid-sentence and rests his paw on my stomach. It’s warm—his paw—and a little sticky. “Maybe that’s not a bad idea. I have to leave tomorrow morning, but next time I’m down here.”

“
We won’t be back for a month.”

He flicks his ears, brushing my shoulder. “I could see if he wants to have an early breakfast tomorrow.”

I retract my claws as I think about this. Am I really in the mood to meet a reporter first thing Monday morning, before practice? Before saying good-bye to Lee? “No, that’s fine. As long as things aren’t going to happen in the next couple weeks.”

He relaxes. The tension in his body eases. His tail swings around to brush my legs. “Am I coming to see you in New Kestle?”

I sigh. “I don’t know. Coach is all about using this road trip to come together as a team, blah blah. Let me see how it goes. Maybe Hellentown.”

He nods and rests against me. “I’ll definitely be in Port City. You need to meet my Aunt Carolyn.”

“
She sounds cool.” I go back to rubbing his side.

He drags claws across my stomach. “You should call your mom back tonight before it gets too late.”

“
Right now?”

His black fingers hesitate, near the whiteness of my sheath. “Probably not too much longer.”

“
You going to shower?”

He shakes his head and then says, “If you are. I was thinking I’d clean up in the morning, but I can wash up while you’re talking.” His long muzzle shifts, and he kisses me on the cheek.

I lie in bed even after he gets into the shower. What am I going to say to Mom? I can’t think of anything more than a variation on “I’m sorry, how can I make it better?” So that’s what I decide to go with.

I put on a robe. My phone is still lying on the floor. When I pick it up, it doesn’t come on. I shake it, press the button again. A few more fragments fall to the floor.

Awesome. I growl at the noise of the shower and reach for the land line before I remember that I never had it hooked up. “Hey,” I yell at the shower, “I need to use your phone.”

“
Okay,” he calls. I dig into his pants pocket and find his phone.

She answers hesitantly, not recognizing the number. “Hi, Mom, it’s me, I’m on Lee’s phone,” I say. The phone’s a little awkward to use; he has the extension on the mike for his longer muzzle and I can’t figure out how to take that off. So I talk a little louder than usual.

“
Oh, Devlin, what is this about?”

She sounds plaintive. The anger in my voice isn’t directed at her. “Didn’t Dad fill you in?”

“
I mean, why is it in the news?”

“
Did you tell Dad about the newspaper?”

When she hesitates, I press, and finally she says, “I told him.”

I press my eyes shut again. They feel sticky from crying still, even though that was a good half hour, forty-five minutes ago. I extend my claws just enough to feel the pinpricks against my face. “Great.”

“
He is upset.”

“
Mom, they got everything wrong. It wasn’t me, it was...” Even though I planned the lie, I still hesitate. “Someone must have seen us at the restaurant.”

She pauses. Her voice lowers. “He said just, he said you told him you cared more for your fox than for our family.” I don’t say anything. “He said this newspaper proves it.”

“
I told him to apologize for breaking Lee’s paw. I told him I wasn’t going to stop seeing Lee. I didn’t say—God dammit, I didn’t say that! And I didn’t call the goddamn paper!”

“
Devlin,” she says, softly.

“
I didn’t, Mom! I love you guys! But I love Lee, too, and I’m not going to—I can’t give him up.”

“
You know how your father is. Can you just pretend...” I hear her claws on the plastic of the phone. “For the holidays. After your football is over, then we can talk. Maybe it will be okay, next year.”

“
You want me to lie to Dad.”

“
There are times—”

“
No, Mom!” I stalk across the apartment. “If we can’t figure this out like grownups, telling the truth and not hiding sh—things from each other, then what’s the point? I sat in that restaurant waiting for Dad to come back and he never did, he just walked out. Fine, now I’m coming after him. I’m asking him to compromise.”

“
I know you were crying—”

“
I was not crying! I told you, they made shit up. I just got really drunk and then—” Probably shouldn’t finish that sentence. “Went home.”

The fur dryer starts up in the other room. I press the phone to my ear as Mom talks. “It’s okay to cry, Devlin. What your father did was very harsh. But he believed it was the right thing to do. He is trying to teach you a lesson.”

“
I am not going to have this same argument all over again. Can’t you do anything? You liked Lee, right?”

“
It doesn’t matter what I think.”

“
Yes it does. Lion Christ, Mom, you’re a part of the family, too. Stand up for it.”

“
I am doing what I can, but your father...I can’t just tell him he’s wrong.”

Now I’m remembering Dad’s comment about hitting girlfriends. Fuck fuck fuck. I did not want to think about that now, even if he was only joking about it. “Then I’ll tell him. Put him on the phone.”

“
If you just tell him what he wants to hear, you can—”

“
That’d be great, wouldn’t it? I’d be home and Dad could think he’s gotten what he wants. Then next year we tell him I was lying all along. Is that how it goes?”

She sighs. “You are making this difficult.”

The fur dryer stops. “Mom, I love you. I want more than anything to be home for Thanksgiving.” I take a breath. “But I can’t lie to Dad. I don’t—Lee doesn’t have to come home with me. But I’m not breaking up with him, and I’m not telling Dad I did. What if he hated Gregory’s wife? Would you tell Gregory that he had to divorce her?”

“
Of course not. Don’t be silly.”

“
What if their son is gay? Is Dad going to ban him from family gatherings?”

“
Now you are being ridiculous.”

“
Really? Put Dad on, let me ask him.”

“
I don’t understand what the fuss is about.”