Try (Temptation Series)(111)

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.