Logan stopped and turned to face his brother.

Cole shrugged. “It’s our thing.”

Laughing, Logan took a sip of his coffee. “Your thing? I wasn’t aware that you two were dating.”

“Shut up. Rachel says it’s sweet.”

“Rachel doesn’t count. She sleeps with you. Of course, she thinks it’s sweet.”

Cole narrowed his eyes and took the coffee cup from him. “Go in there, and run your mouth where it will actually do us some good.”

“And where are you going?”

“To call my wife. I now feel the need to hear about how sweet she’s going to be to me later.”

Logan lifted his arm and looked at his watch. “You’re calling the wife this early?”

Cole raised a brow. “Yes. Unlike you, I was here on time.”

Logan reached out and twisted the handle, but before he opened the door, he smirked at Cole. “Well, I always said you were the boring one. I’m only ten minutes late, and I already had something sweet today. I left him naked in my bed. Have a nice phone call.”

* * *

Tate had showered and dressed after Logan left, and he was now standing in the man’s kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee. His damp hair was cooling against his neck, and as he looked around the condo, he found himself trying to learn about the man who lived there.

The first thing he noticed was the lack of photos. There wasn’t even one. Not so unusual, Tate thought. He didn’t have any photos up either, but then again, he’d only been living in his crappy apartment for a short period of time, ever since directly after his—divorce.

Putting the cup down on the counter, he ran a hand through his hair. Am I really considering taking this all the way? As he looked at the couch and remembered last night, not to mention this morning, he knew that if they continued, then yes, he would eventually need to find a way to tell his friends and family. I mean, what’s the alternative? There wasn’t one, and Tate knew when it came to Logan, the feelings he was starting to have were already starting to escalate.

Moving over to the couch where Logan had put his jacket, Tate heard his phone start to buzz. Pulling it out of the pocket, he noticed he’d missed—oh fuck—six calls. While taking his cigarettes out of the other pocket, he answered the call and brought the phone to his ear.

“Tate?” his mother greeted him.

Tate sighed. “Hi, Mom.”

“Where on earth have you been? I’ve been calling you since last night. I thought maybe you forgot to pay your bill, and they turned your phone off.”

Tate wandered over to the door leading to Logan’s balcony. He unlocked it and stepped outside. Leaning back against the wall, he crossed his legs and looked out at the building next door, wondering if he could see inside if he looked hard enough.

“When has that ever happened?”

“Well, okay, never,” his mother answered.

He could hear a drawer being opened and what he thought were utensils being moved around.

“Then, why would it happen now?” Tate pulled a cigarette out between his lips and grabbed the lighter. Holding the phone between his ear and his shoulder, he waited.

“I don’t know. Why else wouldn’t you answer your phone?”

There was a pause as Tate tried to think of a likely reason, other than the real one. Unfortunately, he wasn’t quick enough.

“Were you on a date?”

“No.”

“Did you have a woman over, and that’s why you couldn’t answer?”

“Mom. No,” Tate stressed.

But it was beyond containment.

“What’s her name? What does she look like?”

Tate took a long drag of the cigarette and closed his, picturing his date from the night before. Yeah, somehow, he didn’t think his mother would appreciate that his date was around six-feet-two and had dark stubble to match his short black hair.

Oh, not to mention, Mom, his dick is slightly longer than my own.

Yeah, maybe not.

“Mom, there was no date.”

Tate could hear some water running and knew that his mother must be in the kitchen, cooking. She loved to bake, and that was his opportunity to get the hell out of this sticky conversation.

“What are you cooking?”

“Don’t you try and change the subject, William Tate Morrison,” his mother warned jokingly, pulling out the full-name card.

“There is no subject.”

Then, as if she could see through the phone, she asked, “Are you smoking?”

Tate gritted his teeth. “I’m going to hang up the phone, just so you know in advance, and don’t get mad.”

“Don’t hang up, don’t hang up,” she grumbled.

“Are you going to quit hassling me?”

“I suppose. But don’t worry, I promise not to tell everyone that you’re seeing someone.”

Tate’s jaw started to tick. The woman was as stubborn and pigheaded as…well, himself.

“I’m. Not. Seeing. Anyone.”

“Okay, son. You’ll bring her around when you’re ready.” His mother paused and then asked, “So, what time will you be here Sunday?”

Tate rolled his eyes and told her a time. Hanging up the phone, he chose to ignore the nervous thumping of his heart at the mere thought of bringing Logan anywhere near his family.

In fact, to settle his nerves and any lingering doubt he had, Tate selected Logan’s name on his contacts list, opened up a message box, and began typing.

I’m convinced my shower would have been so much better with you in it this morning.

* * *

Logan had just sat down at his desk when Cole wandered in and shut the door.

“What now?” he asked.

Cole walked over and sat in the chair opposite him. “Tell me how it went.”

Breathing out a sigh of annoyance, Logan leaned back and brought his ankle up to rest on his knee, tapping his fingers on the wood. “Well, I walked into the conference room, offered him a blow job, he accepted, and then we signed the papers.”

Cole remained silent, obviously not believing him.

“Oh, fuck off, Cole. Why do you suddenly need a play-by-play? We signed the client, so get off my ass.”

“Maybe if you’d said that this morning to Mr. Morrison, you would have been here on time.”

Logan’s mouth fell open, and the words he was about to say got stuck. When his phone vibrated on the desk, he glanced at the message quickly and saw that it was Tate. Knowing Cole would not be leaving anytime soon, Logan looked back to his brother as he absently hit a button to Ignore the message. He’d call Tate back as soon as his over-attentive business partner left. “That was last night’s activity, if you must know. And aren’t you the comedian today?”

“I try.”

“No, you don’t—ever. So, what gives?”

Cole tilted his head to the side. “You were with the bartender, huh?”

Logan sat forward and clasped his hands together, glaring across at Cole. “Yes, Counselor. I know you’re not stupid, so you already know all of this. Get to the point.”

Cole raised a hand and stroked his chin with a shrug. “Bit messy, don’t you think?”

Logan knew exactly what he meant, but he’d had just about enough of Cole’s veiled comments. “Sure it is, but he’s so much fun to lick up, and he’s so…vocal. Oh yeah, Logan.”

* * *

Tate stared at the phone in his hand and felt something between panic and burning rage. Surely, what he was hearing at the other end was not what he thought it was, but as he watched the seconds on the display change, it was confirmed. The call from Logan was definitely connected.

When his message had first gone through, his phone almost immediately began to ring. Sitting down on the couch, Tate had relaxed back into the leather, thinking he was about to talk with the man who’d left him in bed this morning.

Instead, he was sitting on the couch, listening to—

What? A conversation between Logan and—Tate could only assume—Cole? One in which Tate was not only the central character, but also the comedic relief.

* * *

Cole didn’t even flinch at Logan’s reenactment. After years of knowing one another and working together every day, Logan figured it would take a whole hell of a lot to shock his brother.

Instead, Cole asked, “What are you doing with this guy?”

Logan couldn’t help himself. “Well, last night, he was actually the one who did…”

“Logan?”

“Yeah?”

“Stop fucking around and answer me. I walked in on you doing and being done all through college. I hardly think I’m going to be horrified now. So, cut the crap. What are you doing with this guy?”

Logan glared at Cole. The asshole is right. He knows me better than anyone. “I’m just having fun, okay? It’s nothing serious. Just the usual.”

Cole’s eyes pinned him in place as he sat forward in his chair. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Do you even remember what fun is?”

“Kind of. Yes,” Cole answered stoically, not a smile in sight. “Does he know he’s just a piece of ass?”

Logan frowned, discovering he hated that fucking description, but he offered no defense. He didn’t need Cole all over him about this.

“How is this your business? And yeah, I’m pretty sure he knows we aren’t running out to buy wedding rings.”

“You know, it’s okay to admit that you like the guy.”

Logan shook his head. He had no idea why Cole was being such a pain this morning, but it was getting really damn aggravating.