After the cleanup, Nick pulled a shirt over his head and a pair of jeans up his legs.
At the mirror, he paused, running his fingers through his hair, like it would actually cooperate for him.
Logan appeared behind him, hands settling at Nick’s waist, his gaze meeting Nick’s through the mirror. “You did good, baby.” A growl, affectionate this time. “Proud of you.”
Nick swallowed roughly, unused to praise. He had always heard when he’d done something wrong, especially from his stepdad. But he’d never been acknowledged for his accomplishments.
And last night had been his biggest accomplishment of all. Admitting what he was, even if he’d only learned what he was last night.
Nick ducked his head, slipping from under Logan’s before he fell apart. “I need coffee. Stat.”
Logan grinned. “Let’s see if Myron’s alive. Or if he’s still hiding from me.”
That reminded Nick. Myron. Roommate. Had witnessed… Christ. Nick’s face heated to nuclear levels. Anyone else and they’d have called the cops…or a priest.
He padded down the hall, Logan just behind, only to nearly run into Myron in the kitchen. His roommate was standing in front of the fridge with a pink floral scarf knotted so tight around his neck he looked like a Pinterest model gone rogue.
“Morning,” Nick muttered, reaching for the coffee. His hand trembled a little, but nothing compared to yesterday.
It was Logan’s commanding presence. He didn’t even have to touch Nick to scramble his wiring.
And before coffee? Unfair.
“Don’t mind me. Just…yogurt.” Myron’s eyes were glued to Nick’s mouth. “Well, gotta go.”
He grabbed his breakfast like it was a shield then beelined for the hallway. He made it three steps, paused, turned back, and stared at Nick with a weird expression on his face.
“You okay? I mean, after…you know.” He twirled a finger in the air, gesturing at Nick then at Logan.
Was Myron talking about the living room incident, or had he heard all the wild sex coming from Nick’s room last night?
Nick shrugged. “Yeah, I’m good. You?”
Myron slowly nodded, still looking spooked, and scurried off to his room, yogurt in hand.
The guy had acted as if he’d never heard anyone have the best sex of their life.
Or the worst awakening of their life.
Logan chuckled, crossing the tiny kitchen in two strides. He poured both of them coffee, black, slid Nick his, then leaned against the counter like he was proud of how loud he’d made Nick beg for his dick last night.
“You ready?” Logan asked, slight amusement in his voice.
“I told you that you were a menace,” Nick hissed. “Poor Myron will never look at sex the same way again. We traumatized the poor guy.”
“Trust me.” Logan took a sip of his coffee. “When he thought we were wildly making out on the couch, that wasn’t trauma I saw in his eyes.”
“Really?” Nick frowned. “But he seems so…” He twirled his hands, trying to think of the right word. “Vanilla.”
Logan had been taking another sip and nearly choked. Nick patted his back.
Then his mate burst out laughing. Nick didn’t see what was so funny, but his laugh was contagious, bold and inviting, pulling everything closer.
Nick had no clue why he was laughing like an idiot, but damn, it hit something deep inside of him that’d been locked away for too long.
Nick grabbed his hoodie off the back of the chair and shrugged into it. The material was thick and soft and still smelled like fresh laundry. Best scent in the world.
It felt weird stepping back out into the world after what happened last night. Not that he’d ever felt normal, but now everything felt…different.
