Then, Logan gave it to him. “Yeah, it’s a date. I’m out with someone I find extremely attractive. I’m going to buy him dinner, and hopefully, walk him outside and kiss him good night.”

“Walk me outside, huh? In case I get mugged in the big, dark, scary alley?”

Logan’s eyelids lowered until the look he was aiming Tate’s way lit a fire in his stomach and made his cock weep.

“No. So, I can kiss your fucking brains out and then watch you get on your bike and drive away. I’ve been fantasizing about seeing you straddled over that vibrating piece of metal since you walked into the bar with your helmet.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. You have the whole sexy-rebel thing down.”

Tate shook his head. “Rebel? Not me. I’m straight as they come.”

Logan barked out a teasing laugh. “That’s way too easy. You can’t just hand me lines like that and expect me to sit here silently.”

“I would never expect you to be silent—anywhere. Tell me something about yourself. You said Cole’s your brother? Do you have any other brothers or sisters?”

Logan shook his head as the waitress appeared with their food. She slid the wings down in front of Tate and placed the cheeseburger down for Logan.

“Would you like another beer?”

He was about to answer when Logan spoke up, “Yeah, grab him one, would you, hon?”

She smiled down at Logan before spinning to walk away.

“I can order a beer, you know,” Tate pointed out.

“Yeah, but then I have to watch her drool all over you.”

“Jealous?” Tate joked, grabbing a piece of celery and dunking it into the bleu cheese dressing.

“Yes. I want you drooling all over me.”

Baring his teeth in a grin, Tate bit down on the vegetable and chewed slowly.

“Cole is my only sibling, to answer your question. And he’s my half brother. We met when he turned eighteen.”

Bringing the celery back to his mouth, Tate finished it. “Why eighteen? Or is that too personal?”

Logan grabbed the ketchup bottle, shook it a few times, and then put some near his fries before dipping one into the sauce, and stuffing it into his mouth.

“Hungry?” Tate questioned around a mouthful.

“I’m fucking starving. I missed lunch, remember?”

Tate picked up a wing, pushed it into the blue cheese, and then brought it to his mouth. After taking several bites, he dropped the bone back onto the plate, and then he began to lick his fingers one by one. Once they were all clean, he looked back across the table to find Logan had zeroed in on the finger closest to his mouth. Feeling relaxed and playful, Tate took a moment to suck that one back into his mouth and make a big show of it.

Logan coughed and shifted on his seat before focusing once again.

“I lived with my mother. She had a relationship…well, affair, I guess you would call it, with our dad when Cole’s mom was pregnant. He remained married to Cole’s mother, and they lived as one big, happy family.”

“Oh…wow.”

“Yeah. Great guy, huh? Such a shame he’s dead.”

Tate could tell by the clipped way Logan had finished that particular story that the subject was now closed. Trying to think of something to say, he decided that eating seemed like a good fallback plan when Logan picked up his burger and took a bite.

Silence. Sometimes it was much more effective at solidifying a bond than all the talk in the world.

* * *

Logan sat quietly as he took a third bite of his burger, and internally he cursed at himself for being a giant asshole. It wasn’t Tate’s fault that he’d just happened to ask him the one thing that pushed all his buttons.

He could tell Tate was trying to think of something to say, but he seemed to have given up for the moment. When the waitress appeared with two more beers, neither of them acknowledged her. This time, they were just sitting in brooding silence.

Come on, man, snap the fuck out of it. You finally have him sitting across from you, and you’re screwing this up!

Lifting his beer to his lips, Logan opened his mouth and continued on the fucking stupid route of doing everything wrong this evening. “So, how long were you married?”

Tate had been halfway to bringing a wing to his lips but paused and glanced at Logan, lowering it back down to the plate. Wiping his hands on a napkin, Tate slowly picked up his Corona and took a long gulp.

“Sorry,” Logan told him. “That’s none of my business.”

Rubbing a hand over his face, Logan thought, Why am I screwing this up so badly? I’m never like this, especially with people I want in my bed. Get with the program, Mitchell.

“Four years.”

The words came out like a curse, and as Logan met Tate’s eyes across the table, Tate continued, “I spent three and a half of them trying to work out how to leave.”

“And in the end?” Logan asked curiously.

“I woke up one morning, opened the front door, and walked out.”

“Just like that, huh?”

Nodding, Tate answered, “Just like that.”

“She’s an idiot.”

Tate picked up the wing that he’d put down. “Why do you say that?”

Logan watched him move his left hand over to the blue cheese sauce where he dipped the chicken in and then brought it up to his mouth.

“Because I’d never let you just walk out.”

Tate swallowed once before he challenged, “What would you do instead?”

Logan shrugged. “Probably fight with you, and then drag you to the bedroom.”

“Is that how you’ve solved all of your past relationships? I hate to point this out, but you’re single.”

“I’ve never been in a relationship,” Logan admitted, picking up a french fry.

“Ever?”

“Ever,” he confirmed and stuffed the potato in his mouth.

Tate grabbed his beer again and took a long gulp before managing, “Wow.”

Not wanting to make a huge deal out of it, Logan explained, “I just wasn’t interested.”

Tate, of course, was not letting him get away with that. “And now?”

“Now?” Logan repeated back, like he hadn’t understood the question.

“Yeah, now?”

Logan felt a genuine smile cross his lips as he very openly inspected every inch of Tate that was visible. “Now, I’m really fucking interested.”

“I don’t know about all of this, Logan.”

Logan felt his heart pounding in his chest as he pushed his plate aside and leaned across the table toward the man currently holding—

What exactly…my happiness? In his hands.

“Look, I know you probably think I’m the worst choice you could ever make.”

Tate said nothing to disagree with that, but ran a hand up through his hair.

“But you already know all the bad shit about me. Come on, what else is worrying you?”

“Really? You’re asking me that?” Tate questioned incredulously almost as though he thought Logan was crazy. “Let me list it for you. Let’s say I do this, all of this, and for a week, you’re happy, content, and you get what you want. We continue, and my coworkers start asking questions, my soon-to-be-ex-wife somehow finds out, and God forbid, my family does, too. Then, you get bored a week later and say, ‘I’m sorry, Tate, but it was fun.’ That’s all that’s worrying me—the entire upheaval of my life. And all because you want to sleep with me.”

Logan sat back, and this time, he straddled his legs out and around Tate’s before he pulled them in, trapping the other man’s between his own.

“First off, I would never do that to you.”

“How do I know that?” Tate demanded.

“You don’t. You’d have to trust me.”

“Do you know how ridiculous that sounds? I’m sorry, but do you know what I see when I look at you?”

Logan was pretty sure that this was not going to be flattering, but he went ahead and asked anyway, “No. What do you see?”

“I see reckless. I see untrustworthy. I see someone that I’m terrified to take a risk on because I don’t know if he’ll be there to grab my hand if I jump off that cliff.” Pausing, Tate leaned in. “You said earlier that I’m a rebel. Well, I’m not. I’m boring, I’m everyday normal, and I haven’t dated since I left my wife. But you came along, and now, I don’t know what to think.”

“So, that’s it then? Tate, every decision, whether it’s between a man and a woman or two men, always comes with risks. To think otherwise is naive, and you’re not that. But I can’t give you guarantees. I can only give you my word, and if that’s not enough…”

Tate shut his eyes for a second, and Logan had to physically stop himself from reaching across the table to try to soothe the man.

“If that’s not enough,” he started again, “then why are we even here?” Logan wanted to know as his temper rose.

Tate peered back at him. “Because you’re the first person who has made me feel since I walked away from that disaster. And you’re the only person that I think about when I can’t fucking sleep at night.”

Logan pushed his hand up through his hair, frustrated. “Okay then, so now what?”

“I don’t know.” Tate shrugged and threw his napkin on the table.

“Tate?” Logan waited patiently for Tate to look at him. “Tell me what you want from me, from this?”

Tate seemed to mull over the question before answering, “I want you to either stop coming by the bar, or…”

Logan grasped at the word now hanging between them. “Or?”

“Or prove me wrong.”

Breathing out in relief, Logan sat forward, placing his arms on the table. “And how do I do that?”