I breathe in my best friend, the most patient and encouraging man I’ve met in my entire life.
The one that championed me having a pack and has had my back since the day we met.
“Sorry,” I whisper.
“No need,” he promises. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m full of sushi, and my hair is purple again,” I murmur into his chest.
“So, better?”
“I would say so.”
When I pull away, his warm eyes are looking down on me fondly. “You scared the shit out of us,” he admits. “Piper and I heard your tires screech out of the parking lot.”
“I ran away,” I say shamefully.
“But you’re here now.” He presses his forehead to mine and sighs. “When you feel like running, try to remember that I’ll run with you. We all will.”
I was so busy being buried in Ivan’s apple scent that I didn’t realize the other aroma that swirled around him.
Sweet, delicious bourbon wafts down the hallway to my apartment, and I turn to see Logan, his expression soft. There’s a hint of worry in his eyes as he regards me.
“Hi, Maeve,” he says gently.
His hair is all over the place, sticking up on the sides, as if he was tugging at it. His button-up shirt is wrinkled, and it’s the most disheveled I’ve ever seen him.
“Hi, Logan,” I say sweetly. “Come on in.”
When the three Alphas are in my apartment together, and the pack scent swirls around me, my inner Omega breathes a sigh of relief.
I purposely ignore the warning cramp that pulses in my womb, though.
I can’t process what my body could be hinting at, because it would be far too soon.
“How are you feeling?” Logan still eyes me with trepidation, like he’s worried he’ll spook me.
Like I’m a feral cat he’s trying not to startle.
“Better,” I say. “But I’m embarrassed.”
“There’s no need to be embarrassed,” Fang says over his shoulder. Him and Ivan have busied themselves with the pile of new nesting blankets, murmuring to each other.
My heart swells as I realize they’re rebuilding my nest for me without pointing out my shameful actions.
“Alvin’s alright,” Logan says, his words stilted as he swallows. “It wasn’t an obstruction. There was no more string in him; he just threw it up. It happens a lot with cats.”
“I know that,” I admit. “Cats will eat tape, string, anything they’re not supposed to.” I laugh bitterly and shake my head. “That’s the worst part. I had all this knowledge, yet I still…I still got lost in my head. I was convinced it was the worst-case scenario. I could sense it in my body, and…” my voice trails off. I can’t look at Logan anymore, only at the carpet next to me.
Logan’s right hand twitches at his side and his fingers flex, as if he’s stopping himself.
“You can hold my hand,” I tell him softly.
Immediately, he takes it, squeezing me with his firm grip.
“I wanted to tell you,” he admits. “I wanted to reassure you and I couldn’t. I’m sorry.”
I look up at him, meeting his anguished eyes. “Logan, what?—”
