“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.