Tate was shocked to find his hand was shaking as he placed the bottle on the bench, taking a moment to look in the mirror behind the bar. He just stared at himself.

Breathe, you idiot, and let it go. He’s just trying to rattle you.

Going back to making his customer’s drink, Tate poured what he needed, added a wedge of lemon and then turned back to whom he was currently serving. He decided that the minute he was free, he was going to go talk to Logan. He wouldn’t let Logan mess with his job or his head, and Tate was determined to find out if he had anything to worry about after last night.

Around fifteen minutes later, there was a break in the service, and Tate started to make his way down to where Logan was sitting. Taking a breath, he reminded himself that this was just some random guy he hadn’t even known four days ago. But as he got closer, he could have sworn he felt his palms grow clammy at the expression aimed his way.

When he finally reached the end of the bar, he noticed the glass in front of Logan was empty. “Another?”

“Is it polite to poach another bartender’s customer?”

Tate really wasn’t in the mood to play games tonight, so instead of answering him, he rested against the counter and crossed his arms. “Fine. No drink.”

“And no small talk, I see,” Logan pointed out as he tilted his head to the side. “Something wrong?”

It annoyed Tate that he noticed how blue Logan’s eyes were, and he thought that maybe Logan was wearing tinted contacts. Tate knew they sold that shit because Diana had liked to wear the green ones.

“Not really in the mood tonight,” Tate answered with a shrug.

“Really? You seemed to be doing okay with the brunette over there.”

Tate could have sworn that within that comment, he detected a hint of—

What? Jealousy?

“Well, the brunette was easy, and I know she wouldn’t report me for anything I might say.”

Tate watched Logan lean back and mirror his pose by crossing his arms, which in turn made Tate notice how broad Logan’s shoulders and chest were under the short-sleeved shirt.

Funny how misleading a suit can be.

“You think I’m going to report you?”

Tate looked around and then shook his head slightly. “I have no idea what you are going to do.”

“I think I might take that other drink,” Logan decided, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Without a word, Tate turned to get him his usual and then pushed it across the bar. Before he could remove his hand from the glass, Logan closed his fingers over his, and Tate jerked his head up. Tate couldn’t mistake the sexual invitation in that stare. Logan had worn the same expression when he’d looked Tate over only moments earlier.

“For the record, I would never report you, and I’m probably the easiest person sitting at this bar tonight—for you, anyway.”

Tate tried to remind himself that women and men had every right to hit on whomever they were attracted to, and he had no problem with that. His current problem was how to react to being so blatantly pursued.

“I don’t understand you. You pick a woman one week and a guy the next? So…” Tate trailed off, wondering what exactly he was asking.

When Tate felt Logan’s hand finally move away from his own, he quickly released the glass as if it were on fire. He watched Logan intently as he lifted the drink to his lips, seemingly contemplating the question.

After taking a sip of the liquor, Logan lowered the glass slowly. “So…I like to try a little bit of everything and everyone.”

The words sank into Tate’s head, settling in, and then they started to make a whole lot more sense—until Logan, as usual, threw another can of gasoline on the fire.

“I’d like to try you.”

* * *

Logan monitored Tate’s face closely as he seemed to digest exactly what he’d just said. First came the shock, his face flushed, and Logan almost laughed. The embarrassment though was accompanied by such a look of bewilderment as if he didn’t know what the fuck to say.

Logan decided to let him off the hook. “It’s okay, Tate. I don’t expect an answer, but I thought it best to be up front, considering…”

Out came the white towel, and Logan stared at it as Tate ran it between his hands.

“Considering? Considering what?”

“Considering you seemed so confused when, really, there is nothing to be confused about.”

“Except for the fact that I’m straight,” Tate finally announced.

Logan toyed with his glass for a moment before he conceded. “Yes, well, I don’t let little things like that stand in my way.”

Tate started laughing and seemed to regain his footing as Logan let the robust sounds reverberate through him.

“You’re full of confidence, I’ll give you that. But I have to tell you, you’re barking up the wrong tree.”

“Am I?” Logan responded quickly.

“Yes. I just got out of a horrible marriage. Even if I were interested, why would I try something with you? Last night, you told me yourself that you’ve fucked everyone I work with. Now, I’m just wondering which women and which men.”

Logan, not the least bit deterred, lifted his glass. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Well, I can just ask them all and cause mass anarchy in the After Hours ranks.”

“You could. Or you could get to know me better and ask me again at a more appropriate time.”

Tate’s dark brow rose in suspicion. “And when would that be?”

Logan knew that Tate was expecting something sexual to come out of his mouth, so he leaned in close, and he was delighted when Tate followed suit. He wondered for a moment if Tate even realized he did it.

“When Amelia isn’t making her way over here to kick your ass.”

Logan gave him a shit-eating grin and sat back as Tate turned to see exactly what he had been referring to.

* * *

Tate focused on his coworker, who was glaring up at him as if he had stolen her personal property, while he tried to make sense of everything that had just happened. Amelia was a good distraction really, as she stepped around and ignored him completely, only to smile at the man who was currently baffling the shit out of him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize your glass was empty, Logan.”

Tate didn’t know why, but the fact that she used his first name irritated him. It also made it abundantly clear that she had definitely been one of the coworkers who had been fucked—and thankful.

“It’s fine, hon. Tate and I were just talking guy stuff.”

We were? News to me. Tate glared at Logan, from where he stood beside Amelia.

“Yeah, he was telling me about his bike. You make sure to come see me before I leave.”

Tate had to hand it to the guy. He was smooth under pressure.

I wonder what he does for a living.

“Okay, I just wanted to make sure you were taken care of.”

As Amelia’s words floated through the air, Tate locked eyes with those vibrant blue ones.

Logan replied, “I am most definitely being taken care of.”

Shit. The guy needs to cool it and stop being so fucking obvious. People are going to start talking when there is nothing to even say.

“Amelia?” Logan turned back to her and gave a quick wink. “Don’t go too far, okay?”

Tate groaned quietly in disgust and shook his head as she giggled and aimed a triumphant grin in his direction.

He offered a smile that he hoped was happy. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get in the middle.”

Placing a hand on his upper arm, Amelia squeezed as she licked her lips. No longer annoyed, she flirted in the same way—he was positive—she had just done with Logan. “Oh, you didn’t, but that’s a great idea,” she said in a seductive purr.

Tate’s eyes widened slightly as he turned back to Logan. He felt like Logan had somehow set the whole thing up, but even Logan looked somewhat shocked. However, instead of remaining mute like Tate, Logan raised his glass.

“That’s a fantastic idea.”

Tate patted Amelia’s hand and removed it from his arm, as she grinned at him and then walked away.

Tate aimed a glare in Logan’s direction. “You think this is funny, don’t you?”

“No, I actually think it’s a fantastic idea.”

Tate shook his head. “You’re unbalanced. It’s never going to happen.”

“Scared?” Logan inquired, showing his teeth in a warped version of a grin.

Tate knew Logan expected him to run, so he stood his ground instead. “I like to think of it as smart.”

“Yet, you’re still here, talking to me,” Logan reminded him.

“Well, it’s quieter now, and you’re rather entertaining once I look past the inappropriate comments.”

“What? It’s inappropriate to tell you I want to fuck you? Would it have been better if I were drunk?”

Tate completely lost the ability to form words at that blunt declaration. As he looked around quickly, he heard Logan laugh.

Tate turned back to the cocky asshole. “Jesus, would you keep your voice down? I don’t give a shit what you want to do. I have a brain and a mouth, and no has worked so far on people like you.”

Logan placed his palm on the counter and stroked the wood with his fingers. “People like me?”

“Yes, as in pushy, arrogant, and full of themselves. What do you do anyway?”

Tate waited patiently as Logan picked up a small black straw from the container on the bar.

“Guess.”

Flinging the towel over his shoulder, Tate looked Logan over quickly, but since Logan was in his casual clothes, Tate knew he’d get nothing from that.