Begging To Please *~BoyxBoy~*

Chapter 3

      I turned and handed Channing his precious trash. "Here."

     The smile he gave me made my heart skip a beat. "Thanks, Shay."

     "Yeah...about that." I crossed my arms. "How the hell do you know my name?"

     Channing ducked his head shyly. "I uh...mailbox."

    "Huh?"

    He cleared his throat. "Mailbox. You know them rows of mailboxes outside your apartment? It has names on'em and I sniffed out which box had your scent the strongest."

     He sniffed my mailbox. Okaaaaay.

    "Your name is Shay Murray." He sounded so proud of that fact.

    I nodded because, hell, I didn't know what else to do. I still couldn't get over the fact that he had been creeping outside my apartment sniffing my mailbox.  "Yeah. My name is Shay Murray."

     He smiled. "I like it. It's pretty."

    "Uh huh." I shook my head. "Okay, let's go, big guy. We need to talk."

     "At your place right? We'll need somewhere private if'in you want to talk."

      "Right." I turned and walked away. Since the cops chased all the gawkers away, it was easy to cross the street without hassle. This was probably a bad idea but I needed him to explain to  me what the hell was up with the ears and tail and why I'm the only one who could see them.

      "Do you have a phone at your place?" He asked as he followed me. "I need to call my job. I was suppose'ta only have an hour lunch and that ended a long time ago."

     "Yeah. I left my cell there so you can use that." I handed him the piece of paper that the teenager gave me. "Will you get in trouble?"

    Channing took the paper and quickly shook his head. "My Pa is the manager and once I explain to him that I found my mate, he'll understand."

     Mate? "What's a mate?" I dared ask.

     Channing smiled brightly. "You."

     "Uh huh." I faced forward and walked faster. You know, I was starting to think that maybe Channing wasn't all there in the head. That would explain a lot. Then again, I was the one seeing dog ears on his head.

      We were silent the rest of the way back to my studio. For ten minutes I argued internally with myself. This was nuts. It was probably a really bad idea to let him in my studio but then every time I'd glance up at him he'd give me this little hopeful smile and I crumbled.

     Anyone who would jump into traffic to save a puppy wasn't all that bad right? And that's why I felt like I owed it to him to hear him out a little. But I didn't have to like it.

      "Close the door behind you," I snapped when we entered my studio. Feeling really irritated with myself, I went straight to the kitchen and sat down on one of two wooden chairs. I tried hard to ignore the unmade bed ten feet from us and waved a hand to the other empty chair. "Sit."

     Without question, Channing sat and stared at me as if he was waiting for my next instruction. That just irked me even more. "Okay, talk. Who are you and what the hell do you want with me?"

      Channing fidgeted in his seat, the wood creaking under his weight. Damn, my chair looked so tiny with him on it. Despite myself, I found my eyes assessing him again, taking in the white bandage wrapped around his forehead and the wound patch on his left cheek. The EMTs had also wrapped bandages around his right arm.