Liam was on the ground.
He blinked.
“Definitely on the ground,” he murmured to himself. He tried to determine why he would be lying down. He had no idea what would have prompted him to do such an odd thing, but he couldn’t argue with the evidence. Firstly, the sky never filled his complete vision, there was always a ground available to compete with the sky, but right now, the clouds were above in a way only possible when supine. Secondly, when he tilted his head back, the trees moved up. That never happened when he was standing. And thirdly, there was a bridge off in the distance where the horizon ought to be.
He gazed at it in confusion.
A group of people stood at the edge, looking down and gesturing wildly.
“I say,” said a voice to his right and Liam turned to look. “You, all right? That was a mighty hard landing you had there.” Liam’s eyes widened in shock as his eyes focused on the speaker. “You may actually need stitches.”
The cat—if you could call the creature that—was mostly colored in a transparent white. As Liam watched, thinner sections of—Liam settled on the term pelt—would grow more translucent than others but never enough to be opaque. The motion of here and then gone again made the creature’s pelt appear to swirl across its body much like the storm on Jupiter traveled that planet’s equator.
While Liam watched, he noted some finer details, one of which happened to be the cat’s eyes. They were two different tones. Like an overexposed photo, Liam couldn’t tell exactly what color its eyes were.
“You’re a cat!” Liam exclaimed, trying to condense everything he thought into one sentence. An impossible feat, so he settled for, “A… A… A ghost cat! I can see right through you.”
The creature lifted a paw, licked it, and then rubbed its ear. “Usually. Yes.”
“Usually?” Liam asked, his voice fading to a whisper. Usually?
The ghost cat paused mid-lick to study Liam with his dual-colored eyes. Liam stared back with rapt attention.
He was talking to a ghost cat.
“Are you… Dead?” Liam asked, and a new thought occurred to him. If the cat was dead, maybe he was as well. He glanced around half expecting to find his deceased mother nearby, ready to berate him for all his life’s choices. “Am I dead?”
The ghost cat placed both paws on the ground, stood, and stretched, arching its back. “I don’t think so.” It padded closer, hopped up onto Liam’s chest and brought its nose close to Liam’s forehead. When it pulled away, there was a drop of blood on its nose. It licked it away, while Liam investigated his injury. His fingers came away bloody as well.
The cat sat on Liam’s chest. Its tail curled around its feet. “You know, you’re kind of cute. This hair…” The cat reached out a paw and touched Liam’s tight curls.
Liam batted the paw away. “Stop that.”
The cat returned its paw to Liam’s chest and nodded. “My apologies. I’ve never met anyone like you before, and I was curious. I meant no harm.”
Liam blinked and then blinked again.
He didn’t know what to think, and his attention drifted to the growing crowd above. “What happened?”
“You jumped.” Liam shook his head. Nuh-uh. Nope. No way. He hated heights and he wasn’t suicidal, so there was no way he’d— “That cord,” the cat said, looking over its shoulder. “The one tied around your feet.” Liam lifted his legs and spied an elaborate harness. Up above, the crowd cheered. “It was too long, by about an inch,” the cat said as it refocused on him. It touched Liam’s cheek with its paw. The motion felt curiously gentle. Intimate. And the creature’s paw felt solid, warm, with a rough edge to the pads as if they were covered in callouses. Liam’s breath sped up. His pulse pounded in his ears and made his head ache. “You hit your head and the cord snapped. You fell. I came to see if I could help.”
“A cat,” Liam said, disbelief coloring his tone. “A ghost cat came to help. You sure I’m not dead?”
The cat retracted his paw and twitched his ears, listening to something behind them. “I don’t think so.”
“But if you’re dead, then I must be as well.”
The cat laughed. Laughed! And, Liam scowled.
It chortled a few more times, then calmed itself. “I’m not dead.” It sat up straighter. “This is my natural state—well one of them.” The cat leaped off his chest and Liam oomphed. He watched as the air around the animal shimmered and shook. It reminded Liam of heat waves rolling off the asphalt in summer. A moment later a naked man sat awkwardly beside him. His knees were drawn tight to his chest with his arms hanging loosely in front of them. He stuck his hand toward Liam. “I’m Hank. Hank Kirkpatrick. And you are?”
“Liam,” Liam blurted and then grimaced. His mom would be rolling in her grave if she heard him introduce himself that way. Your name is William Donaldson, came the faded echo of her voice in his mind, say it with pride and introduce yourself right. “William Donaldson,” he amended, his lips pressed together in distaste. He hated his full name.
“Well, Liam. It’s good to meet you.” The cat—shifter?—man—Hank looked upwards drawing Liam’s attention as well. “Looks like you’re about to be rescued.”
In the distance, Liam heard the sirens. Though Liam was glad to know help was on its way, it failed to answer how the hell he got down here in the first place.
“What were you doing?” Hank inquired.
“Huh?”
“Jumping from that bridge with only a cord to keep you from falling?”
Liam shook his head. “I have no idea.” His stomach roiled. Just thinking about looking over the edge of the bridge had his stomach rebelling. He glanced at the cord near his feet. “But it looks like I was… bungee jumping.” Liam’s gaze drifted up to the bridge again. Bungee jumping?
“Well, it’s a miracle you survived,” Hank said.
They were quiet for several beats. Liam stared at Hank and Hank returned the attention with equal intensity. Liam had to admit, Hank was a handsome man in spite of his whiteness. His hair was so blond it didn’t have any color at all. In fact, Liam would have pegged Hank as an albino if not for his eyes. He had truly arresting eyes. One bright yellow. The other, a vibrant green. Something Liam could confirm, for, in his human form, Hank lost his transparency. It was nice to be able to distinguish something as simple as the color of a man’s eyes.
Liam’s attention drifted lower, taking in the strong build, slender waist, and pleasantly sized cock. Liam jerked his gaze back to Hank’s face and sighed in relief when he found the man staring up at the bridge again. It would have been beyond embarrassing to be caught staring at his junk.
“So,” Hank said, clearing his throat and returning his focus to Liam. “I know this isn’t a good time, but… Can I see you again?”
Wait? What? Was Hank asking him out on a date? If so, this had to be the strangest pickup Liam’d ever had. Warmth flooded Liam’s cheeks, grateful his dark skin hid his blush. The thought of dating Hank certainly was intriguing.
A ghost cat?! What would his mother say?
Right! Nothing! The disowning bitch was dead. Liam sighed.
“Right,” Hank said. “Bad timing.”
“It’s not that,” Liam began. “It’s—”
“I get it,” Hank said, cutting him off. “You’re not gay. Forget I asked.”
“That’s not—”
Hank shifted and the ghost cat stood where he’d been.
“Dammit, Hank,” Liam barked. He didn’t know why. Maybe it was the novelty of it all—a fucking ghost cat shifter! A homosexual ghost cat shifter—but his heart said he couldn’t let Hank leave without agreeing to at least one date. “I would love to see you again.”
One swirl of transparent smoke later and Hank sat beside him again. “You would?”
“Sure,” Liam replied.
“Then… Why’d you sigh?”
How much should he say? Best come out with it now, before feelings could become involved. There were enough factors already present to hamper a potential relationship. He didn’t need to add a biphobe to the list. “My mother disowned me when I was twenty.”
“For being gay?”
Liam shook his head. “For being bi.”
Hank stared, but to Liam, it appeared to be in confusion and not due to shock or disgust.
“Why?” Hank asked.
Liam shrugged. He didn’t know. She’d never given him a clear answer. And deep down, he thought she might have been okay with him if he’d been a gay man. Something about liking women and men, together, made her squirrelly.
“Well, I don’t care about that,” Hank said with a slight toss of his head to move his longish blond hair from his eyes. My pride won’t care either.” Pride? Liam thought, wondering if Hank meant his feelings or an actual pride of other ghost cats. After a beat, Hank asked, “So, I can see you again?”
Liam murmured an assent. He patted his pockets out of habit. He assumed that if he had just gone bungee jumping—he shuddered—the service provider would have made him ditch loose items. “I don’t think I have a phone on me. And you don’t have a phone on you,” he added, indicating Hank’s nudity with a twitch of his chin. “So, how do we do this?”
Hank tapped his nose. “I’ll find you.” And with that, he shifted into cat form again and bounded off.
That was when Liam realized the emergency personnel was coming down the hill with a stretcher sandwiched between them.
He relaxed. He had a date and he had a rescue. Life was looking up.
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