“If I didn’t have a mandatory meeting today, I’d take the day off, crawl back into your bed, and somehow convince you to lie back and let me have you.”

Tate felt his body react to Logan’s words, and he knew that he was definitely going to get himself off the minute Logan left.

Last night, after that first time, Logan had told him to sleep. Tate had figured the guy realized how overwhelmed he had been. But this morning, he’d surprised himself because Tate wanted nothing more than to start all over again.

“I’ll see you at nine thirty,” Logan confirmed, giving him one last look-over, before he walked out the door.

* * *

Now, here they were, after Tate had spent the morning lying in bed where he’d jerked off and come all over his sheets. He’d then showered and pulled on jeans with a gray V-neck.

Logan, on the other hand, looked as though he’d had twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep and was immaculately dressed as usual. Tate observed Logan as he made his way through the smaller tables toward him and tried to connect this man with the one he’d had naked and under him just last night.

Dressed in a three-piece suit today, Logan appeared like he usually did when he came into the bar. But this time, as Tate took in the cut and tailored fit of the navy blue material, his palms itched to touch. The perfectly styled hair and the glasses framing serious eyes added up to one seriously hot and sophisticated package—a package Tate wanted to unwrap. He wanted Logan back in his bed. He wanted him naked, and waiting for him on his hands and knees. Just like last night.

“So, am I allowed to sit here? Or should I find a different table?”

Tate blinked at the annoyed tone from the man he was currently fantasizing about, and he tried to work out why the hell he was on the receiving end of the sarcastic remarks.

“Huh?”

As Logan slid into the seat opposite him, Tate continued his bold appraisal until Logan’s voice snapped him out of it.

“If you think the way you’re looking at me is any less of an indication that you had your cock inside me last night as opposed to simply touching my hand today, then you’d be wrong.”

Tate shifted in his seat. “And how am I looking at you?”

“Like you want to undress me.”

“I do want to.”

Logan placed his arms on the table and clasped his hands together. “But you have an aversion to holding hands?”

Tate leaned across and spoke softly, “Well, I won’t be undressing you in public, will I?”

Logan tilted his head to the side and sat back in his chair. “Ah, I think I understand.”

“Good,” Tate replied, thinking that would be the end of it.

“So we’re…secret friends?”

Tate shook his head, rubbing his palm over his face.

What did I think would happen? That Logan would be happy with a quick fuck at the end of each night and that he wouldn’t tell anyone? Did the guy ever keep his mouth shut?

No.

“Don’t be an asshole.”

Logan’s expression reflected his incredulity as he responded. “I’m being the asshole? I’m just trying to work out what exactly is going on here, so I know what I can and can’t do.”

“You can show a little patience while I get used to everything. You’ve been doing this for…” Tate paused, and then asked, “How long have you, you know?”

“Nope, I don’t. If you want to know something, then spit it out.”

“Liked both? Swung both ways? Whatever, you know what I mean. Stop being difficult,” Tate stated, impatiently.

Logan’s laugh was derisive, and Tate knew it had nothing to do with what he’d asked but more to do with his discomfort at the question.

“Well?” Tate demanded.

“Since I was nineteen.”

“Nineteen?” Tate questioned in a much louder voice than he’d anticipated.

Just as Logan was about to say something else, Tate heard, “Tate! One, extra-nutty hazelnut latte, and an espresso!”

Tate scooted out of the booth and stood. As he brushed past Logan, he felt a hand grab his wrist. Stopping, he looked down at eyes that were laughing up at him.

“That’s the drink you ordered? A nutty hazelnut?”

“Yeah, so?”

Logan shrugged. “Awful lot of nuts for one drink, don’t you think?”

Tate scowled as Logan continued to laugh.

“You know, nutty hazelnut fits you quite well this morning, I’d say.”

Tate shook his head. “I like the nut flavor, that’s all.”

“Oh Tate, you make it so easy every time. Go, or I can’t be held responsible for what comes out of my mouth.”

“Are you ever?”

“More than you’d think, trust me.”

Tate pondered that for a moment. “You got the espresso?”

Logan inclined his head without saying another word, and Tate decided that was his cue to go and get their drinks.

* * *

Logan remained where he was, staring at the back wall, waiting for Tate to return. He was having an internal conflict, something that didn’t happen often with him. He’d been hurt when Tate had pulled away from him earlier.

Hurt.

The concept was almost humorous, considering his stance on relationships in the past, but the thought of Tate being embarrassed by him—

Yeah, that fucking hurt. The guy has managed to turn me into an emotional head case in less than two weeks.

Logan was resolved to telling him that he was not down for the hiding bullshit just as soon as he got back. Before he even finished thinking it though, the seat opposite him filled, and it was not by Tate.

Oh, just fucking great.

“I knew it was you,” the new arrival announced.

Logan stared across the table at Robbie.

Blond-haired, blue-eyed Robbie was a one-night several months ago, lapse in judgment.

“Did you?” Logan asked, trying to speed things along.

Robbie wasn’t shy at all as he looked over Logan’s suit and licked his lips suggestively.

“I did. I told Libby it definitely looked like you even though she swore it wasn’t. But I was right, and here you are.”

Looking over his shoulder quickly, Logan was happy to see that Tate was still at the counter, waiting behind a group of people. Turning back to face the guy, Logan tried to remember exactly why he’d gone home with him as he replied, “Yep, here I am.”

“You’re a hard man to get a hold of. Always gone before I see you.”

Until today. How could I have been so stupid? Logan aimed a forced smile at Robbie and hoped that Tate took his sweet-ass time getting their coffees.

Robbie leaned in across the table, similar to the move Tate had done a little earlier, and licked his top lip again. Unexpectedly, that night came back to Logan in a hot flash of mouths, cocks, and cum. Specifically, his cock in that mouth.

“I tried calling you,” Robbie told him quietly.

Logan remained where he was, but admitted. “I know.”

“But you haven’t answered.”

The guy isn’t stupid at least. Logan hated stupid.

“That’s true. I haven’t.”

Some men might have taken offense to that, but Logan was fairly certain that when they’d decided to go home for a quick fuck, he’d very clearly explained the rules up front. So, he was surprised when Robbie continued talking instead of getting up to leave.

“I thought we had a good night together.”

Trying his hardest not to lose patience, Logan raised a brow. “We did. And then it was over.”

As the word over left his lips and seemed to hover in the air, Logan felt, rather than saw, Tate stop beside his side of the booth. He watched as Robbie lifted his eyes to Tate, and then the young man’s mouth split into a smile that was pure sexual invitation. It was the same invitation Logan had once taken him up on, and an invitation that was not going to work here. It was a pity Logan didn’t have a chance to warn him of that before he opened his mouth and engaged Tate in conversation.

“Well, hello. Who are you?”

* * *

Who am I? Tate thought, glaring down at the little dipshit currently seated opposite Logan. Who the fuck are you?

Since he seemed to have lost the ability of speech, Tate turned to Logan, who answered for him, “This is Tate. He’s…”

Logan seemed to stumble over what he wanted to say, which was completely unlike him, and Tate wanted to get in the blond man’s face and say, I’m his, so fuck off.

Instead, he remained mute as Logan ended with, “A friend of mine.”

Although that completely infuriated him, Tate knew that it was his own fault. He’d sensed the way Logan had backed off when he’d moved his hand away from him earlier. It had been a natural reaction to any guy who’d try and hold his hand. One that was going to be hard to break, but it had really rubbed Logan the wrong way, and now, he was obviously paying him back.

“I’m Robbie. Also a good friend of Logan’s.”

Tate felt the hair on the back of his neck rise at the implications being thrown at him. It was obvious this guy knew Logan in the we’ve-fucked kind of way, and Tate wasn’t exactly sure what his part in this discussion should be, which also didn’t help in his annoyance.

“So sorry, I’m in your way.”

“Trust me, you’re not. But you are in my seat,” Tate pointed out.

“Am I?”

As Tate glared down at the intruder, he noticed that, for once in his life, Logan had shut the hell up. “Yes. You are.”