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Quinley snorted. “Okay. So, does Blair know you slept with him?”
“Nope. And, uh …”
“What?”
Elle cleared her throat. “I didn’t tell Gabriel that I knew any of what I just told you. I acted like I didn’t know anything about him.”
“I see.” Quinley flicked a look at him. Going by his expression… “Well, I’d say he’s fast figuring out that that might not be true.”
“Yeah,” muttered the redhead.
“I doubt he’ll be pissed that you know all that, though. Do you think he will?”
“Maybe not pissed, as such. But I think Gabriel likes to not be seen. Likes shifters he sleeps with to not know his name or anything else about him. So it might irritate him that I knew him. And he probably won’t like that I played dumb. It meant he was at a slight disadvantage when we met, and no one likes finding stuff out after the fact.”
True. “Why would he not want to be seen?”
“It was just the feeling I got. I’ve met people at Enigma before who just want a fast, emotionless fuck—it’s not uncommon that names aren’t exchanged. But it was different with him. I can’t really explain it. Though it may just be that he’s only that way with shifters, given he’s intent on living as a human—I don’t know.” Elle paused. “He’s not like anyone I’ve ever met. He’s sort of, I don’t know, flat.”
“Flat?”
“Emotionally, I mean. He doesn’t much react to anything. Which I find inexplicably appealing. Apparently, he was always ‘different’. Blair’s word, not mine.” Elle puffed out a breath. “I really didn’t expect him to come onto me.”
“Why?” The female pallas cat was gorgeous.
“He has a type. Submissive leggy redheads. I’m not a submissive shifter.”
“But you’re not very dominant, so maybe that counts for him.”
Elle gave a lazy shrug. “Maybe.”
“When did you have your little encounter with him at Enigma?”
“About two hours after Joaquin broke things off with me a few weeks ago.” Elle hummed at whatever she saw in Quinley’s expression. “You heard about that, huh?”
“A little.” The pride’s grapevine worked at top speed. “I didn’t ask for details. I knew you’d tell me yourself if you ever wanted to.” Quinley grimaced as wind blew under the shelter, slapped at her face and ears, and whipped up her ponytail.
“You’re supposed to push,” Elle reminded her, annoyed.
Amused, Quinley’s cat twitched her tail. “Oh, yeah, sorry. Elle, will you just tell me already?”
“All right, fine, don’t go getting yourself all wound up.” Elle sighed. “I’ve had a thing for Joaquin for years, but he’s a close friend. I didn’t want to cross that line in case it all went south and messed up our friendship. But then I saw how Aspen and Camden are. Did you know they were friends for years before they mated?”
“Aspen once made a passing reference to it.”
“They held back, kept things platonic—both worried they’d otherwise shit all over a friendship they treasure. But they took a risk and it paid off. So I decided to do the same. Only it didn’t pay off for me.”
If what Quinley had heard was accurate, Joaquin had called it off, claiming that they were better off just being friends. He hadn’t used the word “regret,” but he might as well have done. And wouldn’t that sting like a bitch?
“He wants us to still be friends. So do I. But it’s hard.”
Sympathy squashing her chest, Quinley crossed to the redhead, put her bags at her feet, and then hugged the woman tight.
Elle grunted. “Fucking submissives.”
“A hug won’t kill you.” The woman was practically screaming for one.
“I want to shove you away but then I’ll feel bad because it’s like kicking a puppy.”
