Pheromonal: One Night With the Alpha-Chapter 38: His Explanation

"Or," Logan counters, but Penelope interrupts before he can finish his thoughts.

"Officer Everett, we’re scared. We’re two women who can’t stand up to anyone strong enough to kill Scott. You understand that, don’t you?"

He rubs the back of his neck and looks toward the ceiling with a long, heavy sigh. "Look. I’m not trying to look down on your feelings, or make light of the situation. It’s not that at all. It’s just that I know who these deliveries are from."

I stare at Logan, my brow furrowing as suspicion coils in my gut. Before I can voice my thoughts, Penelope blurts out, "Are these from you?"

Logan groans, and my heart skips a beat. Penelope whirls toward me, her fist connecting with my shoulder in a playful punch. "I knew it! I knew the first delivery wasn’t something scary!"

My mind reels at Logan’s admission. The apple fritters, the clothes—all from him? Why? He was so cold. So distant. For God’s sake, he’s looking into me as a suspect over my ex-fiance’s murder.

Penelope, ever the voice of my inner thoughts, asks the burning question. "Why have you been blowing hot and cold, Logan?"

Logan’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "How am I blowing hot and cold?"

I can’t help but scoff at his obliviousness. Penelope echoes my sentiment, her tone serious. "How can you even ask that question?"

Logan holds up his hands, a gesture of surrender or defense—I’m not sure which. "I’m not trying to blow hot and cold at all." His eyes seek mine, an earnestness in them that makes my chest tighten.

I meet his gaze, my own hard and unyielding. The whiplash of his behavior—from passionate lover to denying helping me to cold interrogator to... whatever this is—has left me raw and confused. "Leave," I say flatly.

Logan drops to one knee, grabbing my hand. His proximity sends a jolt through my body. "Nicole, please let me explain."

A bitter laugh escapes me. "What relationship do you think we have between us? Why should I listen to anything you have to say?"

Before I can say more—and oh, boy, is there more—Penelope’s hand clamps over my mouth. I shoot her a glare, but she ignores me, focusing on Logan. "Explain your behavior in jail and when interrogating Nicole."

I want to push her hand away, to tell Logan to get out and leave us alone. But a part of me—a traitorous, hopeful part, totally drugged up and bribed by his pheromones—wants to hear what he has to say. So I remain silent, even as I give my best friend, my ride-or-die, the death glare out of the side of my eye.

Logan takes a deep breath, his eyes never leaving mine. "I know I’ve been... inconsistent. But there’s a reason for it." Both of his hands wrap around my one, squeezing gently. "When I first saw you, Nicole, I didn’t know who you were. But I knew you were my mate. Knew you were mine, from the hair on your head down to your sexy toes."

"Sexy toes?!" But my words are muffled through Penelope’s hand.

Seriously, who can say something like that?

"But then I found out about Scott, and I thought..."

He trails off, but no empathy flickers inside of me. He’s the idiot who didn’t talk to me first. I refuse to feel bad for him.

"I made a bad decision, thinking I was doing the right thing. I admit it. You cut me off at the knees. I felt like the biggest heel, a failure of a mate, and less of a man. And when you activated your ward..." He gives a lopsided grin. "I was on my ass. Literally. Got knocked across the hall. It’s a hell of a good ward. You should get more."

I nod. It is a good ward.

"So, the jail," Penelope prompts him.

Logan winces. "Small problem here. I don’t have the ability to tell you the truth about that."

My eyes narrow over her hand.

"I swear, Nicole. It’s not what you were thinking. I just literally cannot tell you why I treated you that way. I can only say that—" He stops abruptly with another wince. "Okay, I can’t say anything about it. I can only beg for you to trust me."

My scoff is muffled by Penelope’s hand, but she snorts hard. "Right. You just conveniently can’t explain why you were an ass that day."

"As for the interrogation," he hastily moves on, "I can’t be seen giving you preferential treatment. If I do, I’ll be kicked off the case. I’m hanging on by the skin of my teeth. I had to file a record stating that our bond was severed, proven by a witch, in order to stay on this case. For now, no one knows you’re my mate."

"Rejected mate," Penelope interrupts for me. I love this girl, even if she’s still got her hand over my mouth. I tap at it, but she doesn’t remove it. freewebnoveℓ.com

"Look. I don’t want to be kicked off your case. I’m going to be a hard-ass at the station. But I’m going to do what I can to make sure the investigation goes right."

I yank my hand away from Logan’s grasp, the tingling sensation lingering on my skin like an unwelcome reminder of our connection. My throat tightens as I struggle to push down the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. No. I can’t let his earnest gaze or gentle touch sway me. Not after everything that’s happened.

Jerking away from Penelope’s hand, I clear my throat. "This doesn’t change anything between us, Logan."

His eyes soften, a mix of understanding and determination settling in their depths. "I get it, Nicole. But I’m not giving up on my mate."

"I’m not your mate," I snap, the words tasting bitter on my tongue.

"You are," he argues, his jaw set stubbornly.

"I’m not."

"You are."

"This is going nowhere." Pinching the bridge of my nose, I take a deep breath. "Look, the mystery of the packages is resolved. You can leave now. And please, don’t send me any more bizarre care packages."

A crooked smile plays at the corners of Logan’s lips, sending an unwelcome flutter through my stomach. "I’ll still send them."

Penelope pipes up, her voice dripping with cheerfulness that grates on my already frayed nerves. "You know, that probably still counts as stalking."

Logan’s gaze never leaves mine as he speaks. "I’ll do whatever I can to get back in Nicole’s good graces."

My frustration bubbles over. "Ignoring my wishes is a terrible way to do it."

He leans forward, his breath warm against my ear as he whispers, "I don’t think you really want me to leave you alone." A pause, then, "A wolf’s sense of smell is very keen, you know."

My eyes widen as realization dawns. Heat rushes to my face, and I slam my thighs shut, mortified that he can smell my arousal. He could smell every single burst of heat that slammed through me with his whispers against my ear. Damn werewolf senses. Damn my traitorous body.

"Leave," I grit out through clenched teeth.

Logan’s charming, cocky-as-fuck smile does nothing to soothe my irritation. He turns to Penelope, his expression sincere. "I apologize for causing you distress."

Before he can say another word, I’m on my feet, shoving him towards the door. My hands connect with his solid chest, and I ignore the spark that shoots through me at the contact. "Out. Now."

As the door slams shut behind him, I lean against it, my heart pounding. I close my eyes, willing the lingering scent of him to disappear. How dare he? How dare he waltz in here, confuse me with his explanations and apologies, and then have the audacity to call me out on my body’s reaction to him?

"Well," Penelope’s voice breaks through my internal turmoil. "That was... interesting."