Page 49 of Iced Out Mate

I paced around my living room, music playing through the TV speakers. Nike lounged on the couch, his tail swishing in the air, his big orange eyes trailing me. He was likely wondering why the hell I couldn’t sit still since I got back from Tampa.

I couldn’t stop fucking thinking about Miles.

Scratch that, I couldn’t stop thinking about fucking Miles.

That hotel rendezvous was one of the hottest encounters I’d ever had. And it was made even better by the hours-long cuddle session afterward. Talking about random shit, kissing in between laughter, hands lazily exploring each other, holding each other, and then back to fucking again before sleep overtook us both. It was everything I’ve ever wanted. Someone to share not just the passionate, heated moments, but also the softer, delicate ones. Someone I didn’t feel ashamed of wanting to ask if I could stick around after the rush of sex and hormones subsided.

That was Miles to me. And the fact that I was able to get the fated mate feelings off my chest made it all the better.

And all the more anxiety inducing too. It exposed my most inner emotions. I couldn’t take it back. Couldn’t say it was a joke, or a tease, or a mistake. It was real, and it was how I felt.

But, for some reason, it didn’t seem like he felt the same exact fated pull I did. I didn’t doubt he had feelings for me, but I did doubt the intensity of them. I was an overthinker. My mind swirled with “what ifs” that were rarely based in reality, fed instead by irrational fears and unfounded insecurities. Maybe it was rooted in the simple fact that I saw, firsthand, the pain that a one-sided relationship wrought on someone. My mom would cry in her room after Dad left her out of the blue, asking why in between silent sobs. At least, she had tried to keep them silent, but my shifter hearing picked up on every sniffle and every choked breath and then I’d find myself crying alone in my room, unsure if going to her would make her feel better or worse. She had loved him with everything she had. Every fiber of her being had been dedicated to his love, and she had thought he felt the same.

Until he revealed an entirely secret life and soon had a new wife. My mom was left picking up the pieces of her shattered heart and was never the same again.

I protected myself from that pain by never letting myself be tied down, even if it was really all I wanted underneath the fuck-boy bravado. But what was better? Having meaningless sex with a bunch of randoms and protecting your heart? Or risking it all by handing over the blueprint to your soul to someone who could tear it up at a moment’s notice?

I thought the answer was simple. But after meeting Miles, it had become so much more complicated than I could imagine.

Then there was the fact that maybe he didn’t feel the same sense of fate that I did. He certainly trusted me enough to open up about the tragedy of losing his mother. My wound ran deep, but it wasn’t as all-encompassing and eviscerating as him knowing he’d never meet his mom. I lived through the pain with my mom, but I could also call, text, or see her whenever I wanted. Miles didn’t have that. He’d never be able to hug her or laugh with her.

And he felt like it was his fault. I could hear it in the way his words shook. His cries still echoed in my head. I tried my hardest to comfort him, but there was no way I’d be able to completely erase the pain that stabbed at his heart with every beat. In turn, the pain vibrated through my own chest, as if I could feel his trauma through mine. That’s how close I was becoming to him.

“Fucking hell.” I looked outside. Clouds were collecting on the horizon. I could go for a run, shift into my wolf form and just let my worries and thoughts fall off me like the raindrops from my fur.

But I had a better idea. I grabbed my phone and opened my texts with Chris. We’d been talking this morning about hanging out.

Dylan: Hey man, want to come over and chill for a bit? I could use a distraction right now.

Chris: Sure… I’ll be over in ten…

Dylan: Awesome, see you soon. Bring some beers.

Chris: You got it…

I locked my phone and went over to the couch, flopping down next to Nike. He stopped his judgmental glare and instead nudged his head against my forehead. He gave me a couple of purrs. The vibrations were the same as going to an hour’s worth of therapy. I rubbed my head back on him. He was a good cat and my second best friend next to Chris.

Ten minutes later, there was a knock on my door. I jumped up and opened it, revealing a slightly damp Chris, the rain coming down in sheets behind him. He stepped inside, taking off his wet baseball cap and hanging it on the hook next to my keys. Raindrops dotted his white sweater, but it would dry in a couple of minutes. His gray sweats were in a similar state.

“Thanks, man.” I took the case of beer from his hands and brought it to my kitchen while Chris made himself comfortable on my couch. I opened two cans, set the rest inside my fridge, and went back to see Chris already starting up my PS5. Nike had taken his favorite spot on Chris’ lap.

“You got the new game I was talking to you about.”

I nodded, sitting down next to my friend. He’d taken off his sweater, and underneath was a T-shirt from our last Bobcats fundraising event. “It’s good. Not sure if it’s hooked me yet, but the fighting is fun. Story is complete shit, though.”

Chris shrugged. “I always skip cutscenes anyway. I can only read books for stories, not games.”

“Fair enough,” I said. He opened the game and leaned forward, taking a sip of his beer before placing it on the coaster on the coffee table. He was a neat freak and probably one of the only people who used my coasters—myself included.

“So what’s going on?” Chris asked. “What did you need a distraction from?”

“The fact that we’re tiny ants on a spinning rock that could get hit by a projectile rock at any moment which would then send us down the same fate as the dinosaurs.”

“And what else?”

“And the fact that I think I’m in love with our athletic trainer and pretty much told him that when we were together.”

Chris paused the game. He set the controller down. “Okay, that sounds like a bigger deal than the comet thing. What happened? When? Who, where, why?”