of rattlers, which makes them easier to stay away from. The Garretts do a good job of keeping the lands closest to the ghost town and ranch clear of dangerous animals. Most of them seem to stick to the wilder parts of the land, like the mountain lions.”
“Have you ever seen one? A mountain lion?”
Levi grinned as he eased into an exit lane. “I have. I run every morning, have for a while now. It wakes me up and gets me goin’ for the day.”
George hid a grimace. He’d been a runner too, once upon a time, and not because it woke him up. It burned calories and kept him slender.
“I moved here back in January, and it was March 13th when it happened. I was runnin’ on a new trail, trying to change up my routine, and I got into a pretty isolated area by accident. And that’s when I saw her.” He negotiated another turn, wonder visible in his face and audible in his voice. “She was sunning herself on a boulder, and I froze solid when I spotted her there. I had no idea what to do, but runnin’ felt idiotic. I stood there for a long time. She just...watched me. She was breathtaking.”
He couldn’t imagine happening upon a mountain lion while out for a run. He’d have freaked the fuck out and probably gotten himself eaten. But George had usually run at the gym tracks or on a treadmill, not out in the California wilderness.
“I very quietly thanked her for meeting me that day,” Levi continued, “and for allowing me to experience her beauty. Her long tail flicked once and it felt like a dismissal, so I began backing away. One step at a time. When she yawned at me, I felt safe enough to turn and walk to a safe enough distance to start runnin’ again. It was an amazing moment.”
“It sounds amazing, but if that had been me I’d have probably peed my pants.”
Levi chuckled. “I think a lot of people would. I wasn’t calm because I’m super brave in the face of danger. I’ve just...reached a kind of peace with the world and my own existence in it.”
“I’m jealous of that.” George stared out the window at the passing suburb, unable to remember being at peace with his life. Maybe when he was out there skating, doing his routine and living in the jumps, spins, and the timing with the music. But once the music stopped, that peace had stopped.
Levi pulled into a space at the emergency clinic before they could continue the discussion, and George was glad. Levi got out and collected Ginger. George rang the buzzer and a few seconds later they were let inside—apparently, that was a thing, even during the daytime. A friendly nurse took Ginger straight back to their exam area, while Levi filled out a clipboard of information. George hung back, surprised they were the only people there.
George forced himself to read a magazine so he didn’t pace the waiting room. He’d never been inside a vet’s office before, but it felt like any regular doctor’s office, except all the posters were about animals instead of people. It had that same medicinal smell. The same hard waiting room chairs. Just like the hospital he’d been in for a while after he quit skating.
Fuck, I can’t do this.
“I’m so sorry, Levi,” George said. “Can I please wait in your truck?”
Levi handed him the keys without a word, his expression impossible to read.
George fled.
* * *
The simple fact that George had volunteered to come all the way out here for one of Levi’s cats meant a great deal, and it had endeared the younger man to him in ways Levi couldn’t voice. Not only had George found and rescued one of his cats, he’d braved his own anxiety to hold her and comfort her while Levi drove them all to a strange town.
George had held out longer than Levi expected, given what he knew about how sheltered George’s life had been up until recently. It didn’t hurt his feelings at all when George asked to wait in the truck. He still missed George’s presence and that was an odd new feeling.
So he stopped thinking about George. When he finally spoke to a vet, an X-ray confirmed a hip dislocation. Since it was recent, they could manually reset it under general anesthesia. She’d have to wear a bandage for a while and—the hardest part of all—be confined so she didn’t