“Yeah, I’m sure. A root canal would be more exciting.”

Logan didn’t mean to ignore Tate, but he found himself standing there, trying to imagine how to ask Tate if he were interested in—

What exactly?

Yeah, Tate had expressed that he was feeling things that were more than just sex—feelings that were strong, that would terrify him—

But did he mean this? Forever?

Because this, this was terrifying him.

* * *

Tate continued watching Logan, as he seemed to zone out on him. He knew that he was teasing him with every move and word that had come out of his mouth, and Tate loved it. Logan’s reactions to him solidified that what they were doing was right. Logan was feeling the exact same way he was, and that was the kind of reassurance Tate craved to move forward with their relationship.

This morning, Logan looked exactly as a high-paid lawyer should, all suited up. It wasn’t as though Tate hadn’t seen him dressed this way several times before, but this time was different. This time, he’d sat and watched as Logan had dressed.

Oh yeah, I like my choice of lover, Tate thought as he continued studying the man who had gone from seductively playful to pensive. Lover? Yes, that is exactly who Logan is to me now.

“What’s on your mind? You seem very serious all of a sudden.”

Logan turned and acted affronted. “I can be serious on occasion, you know.”

“Really? Have to say, it must be a rare event. Actually, I’d love to see you in court. I think that would be a total turn-on.”

Logan laughed and told him flat out, “No way in hell are you going anywhere near a courtroom that I’m supposed to be in.”

“Why?”

“Because you step into a room, and everyone else disappears.”

Tate caught the expression of shock that had crossed Logan’s face at his own admission, and he jumped right on it. “So, right now, here in the coffee shop, it’s just me, huh?”

When the person in front of them moved aside, they both turned back to the front, and Tate smiled as he looked at the back of the barista. That was, until he turned. Tate almost groaned at his luck, because right there, standing in front of them, was Robbie—the same guy that he and Logan had run into the last time they were in here, the same guy that Logan had admitted to being with. As Tate glared at the man, he felt Logan’s hand squeeze his own.

Tate turned to Logan, and he realized he was still wearing his scowl as Logan’s eyes widened as if to say, Is this a problem?

And is it?

Not really.

He was the one holding Logan’s hand. He was the one who’d been in his bed last night. As he turned back to face Robbie, Tate took a second to check him out, only to see if Robbie had something that he didn’t—

Right?

“Hey Logan, and, Tate, isn’t it?”

Tate was surprised that the guy remembered his name. He was about to say something caustic when Robbie continued, “I see you’re both back in here again together.”

“Robbie, come on, can we just order?” Logan replied just as Tate stated dryly,

“Good to see there’s nothing wrong with your eyes.”

When the guy started laughing, Tate wasn’t sure what the hell to think.

“Oh, he’s touchy, isn’t he?”

That question was definitely directed at Logan, and before he could answer, Tate snapped, “No. He just wants to order a coffee.”

Robbie rested his hip up against the counter and leaned over, so he was slightly closer to them both. “That’s fine. I can help you with that. But while you’re both here, let’s chat.”

“Let’s not,” Tate fired back as Logan groaned out, “Robbie.”

“Oh, come on. That’s no way to talk to a friend.”

Jesus, this guy just doesn’t know when to quit, Tate thought as he looked from Logan, who shrugged and rolled his eyes, and then back to Robbie, who was beaming at him as he chatted casually almost as though they had all been doing this for years instead of…never.

“You’re not his usual type, you know.”

“Robbie, just take our fucking orders, would you?” Logan suggested as he released Tate’s hand to press his thumb and index finger to his forehead.

“What? It’s true.”

Knowing who he meant but not quite what, Tate managed, as politely as he could, to ask the question pounding in his brain, “What do you mean?”

“Well, you’re nothing like me, are you?”

He was definitely nothing like him. Robbie was shorter to start with, probably around five-ten, and had blond highlights throughout his hair, which was slightly longer in the front and swept to the side. Down the side of his neck was a tattoo of some kind that snaked into his black polo shirt, and in each ear, he had black gauges. He was also wearing—

Is that eyeliner?

He looked like a runaway from a punk band.

And he is criticizing me?

Without taking his eyes off Robbie, Tate asked, “So? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means nothing. He’s talking out of his ass,” Logan interjected.

But it was too late. Tate wasn’t paying attention to Logan, and Robbie was having too much fun messing with the both of them.

Robbie straightened and shrugged. “Nothing, I guess. Just that, usually, he goes female or, you know, my kind. You…you’re…well—”

“Well, what?” Tate demanded, and felt Logan grab his hand.

Not realizing quite how loud he had spoken, it wasn’t until the woman in the line beside them turned their way with a frown, that Tate mumbled, “Sorry.”

“Well, you’re like him. Big, tall…” Robbie joked, lowering his voice to a false baritone as he turned to Logan, and then Tate before trailing off. He seemed to be concentrating on something very important, then whispered, “And really sexy. I bet you two look so damn hot when you get together. Who tops?”

Tate almost choked as he heard Logan mumble, “Oh fuck,” beside him.

“Jesus,” Tate cursed. “No wonder you two get along. You have no filter either.”

Robbie frowned at him and looked toward Logan, who was still muttering something under his breath. “What do you mean? Who has no filter?”

“Nothing, forget it,” Tate grumbled, irritated that he was slightly amused by the entire conversation.

“Okay,” Robbie answered with a quick grin and then asked again conspiratorially, “So, who tops? I can’t imagine Logan as anything else, but then—”

He was cut off by Logan’s phone that started ringing at that exact moment. Tate turned just as Logan looked down at the screen and then back at him. He indicated the waiting area behind them.

“I’ve got to take this. Will you be okay here?” He emphasized the word here as he glared at Robbie.

“I guess,” Tate answered with much more surliness than he knew he possessed.

“Okay, just black for me.”

Nodding, Tate watched him walk away and then turned back to face Robbie on his own.

“Can we just have our coffees?” Tate requested through clenched teeth, his jaw starting to ache.

“Well, you could, but…” Robbie drawled in a way that was more than a little obnoxious.

“But what?”

With a quick, flirty wink, Robbie shrugged. “You haven’t ordered yours yet.”

Tate lost all of his annoyance that quickly, and he found instead that he was laughing and shaking his head. Great, just what I need—to actually find him humorous instead of annoying.

“Okay, Robbie, you win. God, I need a coffee now more than ever. Can I have a hazelnut latte? And his espresso. To go.”

“Sure. Want me to bring it over?”

Tate looked at him in a way that screamed, Not if you value your life.

Robbie’s smile was full of mischief as he finally put Tate out of his misery. “Got it. It’ll be ready here in just a minute.”

* * *

Tate made his way over to where Logan was standing with the phone pressed to his ear. Just as he got to the table, he heard, “Sorry, hon. It just isn’t going to happen again.”

Frowning, Tate came to a standstill, and Logan glanced at him across the table that was between them.

“No, it was nothing you did.”

Logan’s tone and his words made it abundantly clear that he was not talking to a work colleague or a client. Tate was trying his hardest not to pay attention to his insecurities as they knocked on the door in his brain when Logan reached over and took his hand.

“Jess,” Logan said and paused.

Jess? Jess? That name is familiar, Tate thought as he stared at Logan.

“Look, since we last spoke, I started seeing someone.”

The bar. That was where he’d heard the name, back when they had first met. He remembered Logan on the phone with a Jess, promising to see her or him, without their clothes on.

“Yes. It was fun, but this is serious,” he told the person on the other end of the phone as he moved around the table toward Tate.

When Logan was beside him and their hips and arms were brushing, he looked right at him as he said clearly, “This is exactly what I want.”

Tate felt his body heat at the words as his heart skipped in his chest, and everything finally fell into place. He was so ready to be with Logan in every way, and if he hadn’t been sure before, this confirmed it.

“Good-bye, Jess,” Logan said, ending the call and then placing the phone down on the table where he twirled it slowly. “What have you done to me, Mr. Morrison? Turned me into some relationship guy?”