time he got a bit of Indigo, he just wanted more.
Damn it. And Kenny and Dezi just had to be the ones to find them. Logan groaned into the pillow, mortified. The way he’d looked in front of them… Sure, nudity was normal in shifter groups, but just the memory of it made his face hot. What made it worse was his cock was still hard as fuck. It was as if the memory of Indigo’s hand wrapped around him was imprinted on the flesh. And Logan refused to jerk off in the shower. No, he wouldn’t give his body the fucking satisfaction.
He was pretty sure the whole pride knew that he and Indigo were semi hooking up. Well, not hooking-hooking, more like pushed against the wall and some heavy petting, but Logan was calling quits to it right this fucking second. He could not and would not put his heart through the torture. It was all doing more damage than good.
Logan knew this—it was a goddamn fact—and yet he was banging his head against his pillow and racking his brain for a way to ignore what happened years ago and just hop on Indigo like a fresh cup of coffee on Monday morning. Ugh. He’d given in to his primal side—his stupid lynx had pushed him to do it. Yeah, that and the lack of caffeine made Logan’s judgment that much looser. Logan punched the bed in frustration, knowing that wasn’t a good enough excuse to potentially get his heart ripped out of his chest again. Why couldn’t he just walk away from Indigo? He knew the reason, the man was his fated mate after all, but Logan had already gone through being rejected and survived. Was he doomed to go through it again?
Never again. He’d made a solemn vow five years ago not to be fooled again. Fate was cruel, and he knew the truth. And yet he kept needing to remind himself of these facts. He tried picturing Indigo’s face five years ago. The anguish and anger he held toward Logan when he said he wanted nothing to do with him.
He had found him, his mate. Logan wanted to call his grandmother, but there was no reaching her; she’d died three years ago, and Logan had left his closed-minded clowder that same year. It was hard for shifters to be apart from their own kind. They needed to connect regardless of their animal side. Logan had traveled, never truly feeling he was welcome in whatever shifter group allowed him visitation. Not until he ran into a tall man with messy black hair, dark blue eyes, a firm jaw, and a breathtaking crooked smile. Indigo had only a few tattoos then and his ears pierced. He was the spitting image of a bad boy, and Logan had always been drawn to them even if he liked his men a little sweeter.
It had been a stumbling experience of meet and greet, and they knew instantly that they were fated mates. It had just fucking clicked. Logan had never felt perfect with someone as he had at that moment, and he’d only just met Indigo. It had been a moment of pure bliss. They’d stood outside, everything forgotten as they admired each other and the fact they were fated mates. But the thing was, it didn’t last long, and the heartache that followed nearly broke Logan.
Indigo had asked to meet up at the local cafe the next day. He said he had a lot he wanted to talk about. But the day went on, and Logan was left there until closing. He’d sat in the same place holding hope for over five hours waiting on Indigo, on his mate. He walked outside, the pouring rain mirroring his mood. He didn’t bother looking for anything to cover himself with, letting the rain soak his hair and deep into his bones, chilling him. He stood outside the cafe for another hour, each breath puffing up a white cloud in front of him. Maybe he’d heard the name of the cafe wrong. There was another cafe a few blocks down. Maybe they’d just got everything switched up. A half cry, half laugh bubbled up out of him as he turned on his heels.
Can’t hurt to check. Logan made it three steps when the scent he knew all too well hit him. The one man fate had deemed the perfect someone. His mate.
Hope flared in his chest, and he felt light on his feet