Trust (Temptation #3)(17)

“No reason in particular. I was just thinking of the coincidence. In an interview, he was quoted as saying the lyrics were about ‘being prepared to lose what you have for what you might get. It’s about letting go.’”

After Tate placed the food down, he rested a palm on the table to lean over and brush his mouth to Logan’s. “I love what I got,” he said, and he slid his tongue across Logan’s lower lip to slowly sample him.

“Do you?” Logan’s eyes practically sparkled at him, and he stroked Tate’s cheek.

“Mhmm,” he hummed before sitting in the opposite chair.

He loved the way Logan was staring at him. It was like he’d just offered him the world—it made him feel like a fucking king.

“So…this morning I get to try your cooking, huh? Is this a prelude of something I have to look forward to?”

And with those few words, Tate was reminded of why he’d cooked. He’d been unable to fucking sleep, and why? Because he didn’t have the first idea how to explain himself to Logan—and he deserved an explanation.

Taking a moment to think, he shoveled two biscuits onto a plate and then poured the sausage gravy over it before handing the plate to Logan. He took it from him with a quiet, “Thank you,” and Tate knew he was waiting—waiting for him to open his mouth and start the conversation he didn’t want to have.

How the hell do I even begin?

He smothered his own food in the creamy sauce, and when he placed the pot back on the table, he noticed that Logan was still watching him. But this time, the look in his eyes was…pensive.

“You not going to eat?” Tate asked, mentally kicking his own ass for being a fucking coward.

“I am,” Logan said and picked up his fork. “You going to talk? Or sit there scowling at your plate?”

“I’m not scowling.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I’m thinking,” Tate explained. “There’s a difference. And I’d think you would be used to this face by now.”

“Oh, I recognize it for what it is. I was just checking. Well, then. I’ll just sit here and eat my delicious breakfast quietly until you’re ready.”

Tate smirked as he stretched one of his legs out in front of him. “You are going to sit quietly?”

“Yep,” Logan told him before he brought a full fork to his mouth, pushing the food between his lips. He bared his teeth at Tate and dragged the fork free, giving him a grin. “I can be quiet.”

“No, you can’t.”

“Yes. I can.”

Tate didn’t reply. Instead, he started to eat his breakfast in complete silence. He watched Logan do the same, and as the seconds ticked by and turned to minutes, Logan sat forward in his chair.

Tate reached for his orange juice and raised it to his lips. After taking a sip, he put it back down and acted as if he were about to talk. Logan’s eyes widened a little, expectantly, but Tate started to eat again, enjoying the game immensely.

Noticing Logan’s jaw bunch as though he were clamping his mouth shut, possibly biting his tongue in an attempt to keep it closed, Tate was about to relent until Logan lost it first.

“Okay, so apparently, I can’t keep my mouth shut. Happy?”

Tate crossed his arms over his chest. “Nah. I rather like you with your mouth open. But…”

“But the answer’s still no, right?”





* * *



Don’t let me be fucking right, was all Logan could think as Tate sat up straight in his chair and replied, “Right.”

He barely held back the urge to demand why. As it was, he was trying his best to be patient, but Tate needed to talk. He needed to help him understand what was going on.

“Is it me? You don’t think you’d like living with me?”

Tate’s eyes found his as he adamantly denied that claim. “No. No. It’s nothing like that. It’s not you—”

“If you end that sentence with ‘it’s me,’ I might kick you.”

Tate brought a hand to his hair and pushed his fingers through it. He seemed extremely uncomfortable, and Logan hated that, but at the same time, he wanted answers. Then, with a long sigh, Tate dropped his hand onto his leg and squeezed his fingers into his thigh.

“Is it because of Chris?” Logan hedged, wondering if maybe the reappearance of his ex had somehow made Tate doubt him just as Cole had suggested. Fuck, he hoped that wasn’t the case. He’d done everything in his power to gain Tate’s trust, and he wasn’t about to blow it on Christopher fucking Walker.

“No. I don’t like that he’s back in your life. But I don’t give a shit about him,” Tate said and then met Logan’s gaze head on. “Should I?”