He let the conversation segue into discussing the ins and outs of their confinement, and he tried not to let himself focus on the words that kept rattling around in his head:thirteen months, thirteen months, thirteen months.
Was thereanychance that he could make himself into a decent mate after spending that much time as a feral hellhound?
The only thing that gave him even a sliver of hope was that Iz was still holding his hand. Even if he had to walk away from her until he could be the man she deserved, maybe ... maybe she would want him to come back someday, once he’d gotten his head together again. It was possible, wasn’t it?
After all, she was still holding his hand.
It felt like the interview took forever. Logan understood why Cooper needed to be thorough, and he supported anything that would lead to Sebastian winding up behind bars and Iz beingsafe, but he couldn’t pretend that it wasn’t draining. There was something awful about revisiting all the details of that place, from the layout of the caves to the animals that had vanished through their portals to how long Sebastian had starved them.
But he had Iz, and he had Nathaniel and the fluffalo, who really needed names. He supposed he also sort of had Cat, maybe, but Cat hadn’t actually shown any interest in him at all. He was completely devoted to Iz, which ironically meant that he and Logan had something in common.
“I think that about does it,” Cooper said finally.
Thank God. Logan’s head was pounding, and his mouth was horribly dry. Worst of all, he just felt completely scraped out, like these hours of non-stop talking had gutted him of whatever humanity he’d managed to get back. And he had pastel fluffalo fur all over his Armani, and he was worried Theo might mind. He just wanted to get back to his room and take the world’s longest nap.
The fluffalo consented to being smuggled over to their side of the courtyard in a tote bag, while Nathaniel trotted along at Logan’s side, his wings folded in and his head held up imperiously. He was obviously enjoying the fact that he got to keep his dignity. Logan didn’t have the heart to try to explain to him that it was just because his wings collapsed so thoroughly.
He and Iz stopped on the sidewalk by their rooms. Her tote bag of fluffalo shifted minutely as they stirred inside.
“You fixed my door,” Iz said, looking at it.
“Technically, the motel handyman did. I just found him.”
“I’m still giving you credit. I completely forgot about it.” She bit her lower lip. “Do you—what are you planning for the rest of the day?”
Logan’s brain instantly and unhelpfully supplied a vivid fantasy of everything the two of them could do together.
Everything they could do together in a motel room, at least.
But that would only serve to convince Iz that he was still just as animalistic and frantic as he’d been last night. He needed to think of something a little more civilized than just rolling around in bed together.
He seized on the first thing that came to mind:
“I’d like to take you out for a real dinner. Not just vending machine and gas station food.”
For a second, all he saw on her face was surprise. Then a slow, gorgeous smile spread across her face.
“I’d like that too,” Iz said.