Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 6

brush his bangs from his eyes and left.
    I didn't really think I'd hear from him. But he called the next day, sober and apologetic, and asked if we could meet.
    We had coffee at Bean There Done That. He introduced himself as Jax and breezed through a sorry-for-yesterday speech in a way that suggested he was used to apologizing, and just as used to having his apologies accepted the minute he flashed a smile.
    It was a fine smile. His teeth were a bit large, but it worked for him.
    "How often does that happen? You, drunk in public during the day?"
    He shrugged. "Now and then. Life gets boring."
    "What do you do?"
    "I'm between jobs."
    If it were anyone else, I'd have thought deadbeat. Wastrel. Artist. But I was ninety-five percent sure I was dealing with one of my own kind here. Which meant he probably showed or had shown in order to be able to afford an apartment and a good deal of fancy alcohol.
    "I see," I said. "Bored, unemployed, and into whole grains."
    He grinned. "Wanna go out sometime?"
    It never really became romantic. Part of that was my fault— I hadn't been with anyone since Derkin died, and I think he sensed when we laid on his couch together or shared a bed, that the area below my waist was still in mourning. He never pushed.
    What he needed was someone to look after him, and it didn't matter if that someone was barely old enough to buy his own drinks. He let me talk him down from his craziest schemes, let me keep him company and cook him breakfast using recipes from The Whole Grains Cookbook and comb his hair when he started to rush out the door with bedhead. He became my little brother.
    And finally, one day, he let me see him.
    ****
    I drove him to a meadow— a dry, bristly field where no one came to picnic or play Frisbee with the dog.
    "What are we doing here?" he asked.
    I glanced around. It was a nice day, sunny but breezy, chirping birds and white butterflies and all that. "I thought this would be a good place for us to be ourselves."
    He laughed. "What, are we gonna take our clothes off and run naked through the field?" He kicked a dandelion.
    "Close. I'd like to see you change."
    His head shot up. He took a step back. "Shit. No."
    "Easy." I stepped toward him, extending a hand.
    He shied away.
    "It's all right."
    "You don't know anything," he said.
    "I'll even go first."
    I undid my belt and took down my jeans. Toed off my shoes.
    "Jesus, James," he said. "You?"
    I glanced up and smiled. "You didn't know?"
    "Hell no! Are you a—"
    I finished undressing and stood naked in front of him. "This is why I insisted on a big breakfast this morning. I wanted us both to have plenty of energy."
    "James, I don't know if I can—"
    I took off running.
    I made for a small knoll, and as I ran up it I bent at the waist. My limbs lengthened. My hindquarters bulged with muscle. A fountain of thick black hair erupted from my neck. My skin itched for a minute as the fur poked through. There were a few seconds where I was completely ungraceful, struggling to find my rhythm on four legs, to adjust to three-quarters vision, and to get used to the new smells and sounds.
    I galloped across the top of the slope then down the other side. I headed for Jax, slowing to a canter as I drew near.
    I pulled up, tossing my head.
    He didn't smile. He didn't move. Just stared at me.
    "You're beautiful," he said finally.
    I kind of knew it. Sixteen hands, with a shiny bay coat and a long, tapered muzzle. I wouldn't have looked out of place in a show ring.
    I lowered my head and he scratched the star under my forelock. Then he moved his hand down to feel my nose.
    "Sorry," he said suddenly, pulling his hand away. "I didn't even ask."
    I butted his shoulder to let him know it was okay.
    It had been a long time since I'd let anyone see me this way, and even longer since I'd let someone touch me while I was changed. His hand felt good against my cheek. I closed my eyes.
    After a moment I nudged his shoulder again. Okay. Your turn.
    He looked at me with real fear in his eyes. "I can't."
    I nudged him so hard he stumbled. "Okay," he said. "Okay. Just let me go behind the hill."
    He started walking toward the knoll.
    I followed.
    He turned. "James!"
    I lipped his collar.
    "James, please. Can I have some privacy?"
    I shook my head and blew through my nostrils, spraying him with horse-snot. Then I turned and ambled away.
    When I glanced over my shoulder he was just disappearing behind the slope.
    I waited.
    A few minutes later, a dun