Hidden Passions (Hidden, #7)(3)
They certainly couldn't smooth every bump with macho ass-hats who weren't used to him being out. His pack had grown accustomed to it, or at least weren't shocked anymore. A couple of those stupid cats had actually jerked away when he'd slapped their shoulders, like being gay might be contagious.
Tony snickered to himself as he loaded dirty pots semi-neatly into the second of Nate's two fancy dishwashers. If only gayness were contagious. He'd have had fun with a couple of tonight's guests if they'd contracted his "condition."
He undercut his own humor with a sigh. He'd admit to being a teensy bit impulsive. While he'd kept his sexual nature secret for what felt like forever, he couldn't swear he'd totally thought through what being out would be like. Social creature that he was, the aloneness wore on him. He might occasionally have been a short-tempered ass-hat himself when he was in the closet, but at least he'd belonged. He'd had no trouble charming women or knowing how to act in a bar. Most shifters could get it up regardless. Their beast halves weren't that damn choosy. That his human half wasn't having fun with his lovers Tony had managed to conceal. Now he barely knew which bars to patronize, much less how to go about hooking up.
He couldn't explain why, but who he hooked up with felt more important now.
Grimacing, he wedged one final pan into the dishwasher. He hadn't had a date in ages, or even a decent flirt. Coming out was uncomfortably like regaining his virginity.
"Stupid," he said aloud and then, "Okay, Nate, where do you keep your spell packs?"
Doing his best to shove his bad mood aside, he began opening drawers and cabinets. The Brownie Hygienics wouldn't work right without their magic soap and, friend or not, Tony wasn't about to scrub that mountain of pots by hand. The drawer to his left held silver, the one to his right a custom-fitted selection of spice bottles. Nate liked to cook, though he'd been banned from doing so tonight, the celebration having been in his honor. He'd closed an important case, somewhat in spite of the rest of the squad, and Adam--their alpha--had come up with the plan for the party as a peace offering. Tony's parents and two of the hulking tigers had supplied the necessary culinary manpower, dirtying every conceivable utensil in the process.
"Damn," Tony said, because he'd slammed a drawer shut and caught his finger. As he stuck it reflexively in his mouth, he realized he was embarrassingly close to tears.
Tony refused to be that big of a *. He was only upset because Nate was so happy. The wolf totally deserved to fall in love--and to be loved back by someone as kickass as Evina. Nate was a great guy. Of all the pack, he'd accepted Tony's big announcement the easiest. He'd openly said he liked Tony better now that he was being his real self. He didn't freak when Tony pretended to flirt with him, and he never pulled away. He was still Tony's friend, just like he'd been before.
When Evina agreed to marry him, Nate's aura had lit up like sunrise.
"Fuck," Tony said, the moisture in his eyes having spilled traitorously out.
He didn't have a crush on Nate. He wasn't that stupid. He wanted what Nate had: to find someone who was right for him.
Barring that, a sweaty wild one-night stand wouldn't be terrible.
He smiled, straightening with a jerk a moment later. Like all wolves, he had sharp hearing. The freight elevator had just clanked open. The rumble of wheels on concrete warned him someone was approaching. Tony hadn't locked Nate's door. Their pack strolled in and out of each other's houses too often to bother. Hinges creaked as the heavy entrance swung open.
"Hello," a male voice called. "I'm returning the undrunk booze."
Shit, Tony thought. He recognized who it was: the hot-as-hell tiger bartender.
His heart started beating faster, which he really would have preferred it not do. Cats had shifter hearing too. The last thing he needed was one of those stupid felines realizing he had the hots for him.
"Come on in," he said, blowing out a breath as he tried to think calming thoughts. "I'm cleaning up the kitchen."
He was almost braced by the time the cat pushed the loaded handcart into the wide-open living space. He guessed cats were snoopy. The gorgeous fireman looked around curiously, his muscle-packed shoulders as broad as a barn door.
"Wow," he said, turning toward the warehouse's tall front windows. "This place is amazing."
The tiger's rear view was amazing--his back, his ass, his strong mile-long legs. Tony was a big guy himself, but this man was a damned giant. He noticed the tiger's jeans were faded in all the right places. Not needing any more inspiration, Tony wrenched his eyes from them.
"Nate has great taste," he said, the words as level as he could make them.
The tiger turned. His expression was as unreadable as an actual cat's. "It's Tony, right?"
"Yes," Tony said. Normally, he was chatty. He ordered himself not to be right then.
The tiger nodded. He didn't introduce himself, though Tony was aware his name was Chris. He'd heard the tiger's coworkers call him that. Tony hadn't precisely been trying to scope him out, but he also knew Chris was Evina's beta and mixed a mean mango martini. He'd smiled a lot at the party--not a loudmouth but easygoing. Someone had mentioned he'd been hospitalized with third-degree burns not too long ago. No trace of them remained . . . or of his earlier good humor. Tony suspected the reason Chris looked so serious now was him.