Page 4 of Pack Scratch Fever
“When am I not talking to cats?” I murmur, watching as the couple laughs at the kittens’ antics.
There’s an achy feeling in my chest, one that makes me almost itchy as I recall Mari’s earlier words.
“She got to you,” Blair says gently, and I feel her eyes on me. “You know that’s not going to be you, right?”
“I know that,” I snap. Then, I see the kindness on my friend’s face. “Sorry. I’m not trying to be rude.”
“I know,” she says. “Just…maybe stop messing with your suppressants? And handle your Heat however you need to?”
I chew my lip as I exit the cat room, Blair following me with a sealed case of cat food cans. She grabs a pair of scissors from the counter and begins to slice through the plastic. “What are you doing with those?” I ask.
“I’m giving them to one of our fosters. I’ll drop them off later, if you don’t mind running the place while I’m gone. Now stop changing the subject.” She stops her cutting. “You can’t keep putting off your Heat.”
I narrow my eyes and lean against the counter. “Yes, I can.”
“How long?”
I shrug. “Indefinitely. There’s a world record online of like, ten years.”
Blair blinks, unimpressed. “Ten years,” she deadpans.
I nod. “Mmhmm.”
“Stop being stubborn.”
“I’mnotstubborn.” I pick up a can of food and roll it between my hands, studying the label. “I’m practical.”
Blair huffs. “There is no way onearthyou think tampering with your medication is practical.”
“Heats get in the way,” I insist. “It will take time away from the rescue.”
“Piper, the whole goddamn rescue smells likelemonandmint.What are you going to do, keep stinking up places wherever you go?”
I hunch my shoulders. “I’ll just up my doses,” I murmur, hating that she’s right.
I just don’t want this conversation today.
I don’t want toeverhave this conversation.
“What are you so afraid of?” Blair continues. “Is it that you will go through it alone? You don’t have to. You could swap throughScent Match, I could gift you a subscription?—”
“Oh,hellno,” I whisper. “You are not paying for my dating app.”
Blair cocks her head and raises an eyebrow, and my brow furrows.
“And besides, why are we only talking about me? When was your lastHeat?” I demand.
“Mine was three months ago, but I’m also not doing anything to prevent it,” Blair says. “Unlike someoneelse.”
I know she’s right. Neither of us has a pack, and while Blair hasn’t been dating, she’s still been taking care of herself.
“I just don’t want you to self-destruct,” she continues, “and do that thing you do.”
“What thing?”
“Throw yourself into something so that you forget about yourself, then burn out.”
I huff and pick at the label of the cat food can. She’s right. There are times when I lose myself in something to fix, and Idon’t want to come home to my embarrassingly tiny apartment and be reminded of what I truly am.
