“Well, your mouth was kind of molesting mine.”
Tate took his hand from the wall, bringing it down to cover Logan’s right fist. “I just need some time to think, okay?”
“Okay.” Logan released his hold on the leather. “But not too long. Tomorrow, lunch. It’s your day off, right?”
“You memorized my schedule? How sweet.”
“Fuck you.”
“You already told me I wasn’t ready for that, so keep your offers to yourself.”
“So, it’s an offer now? Not a threat? Look at you, warming to the idea. That makes me fucking hard.”
Tate shook his head and stepped away to walk back to the door. Over his shoulder, he called out, “Give you an inch…”
“And I’ll want six or seven more,” Logan called back.
“Jesus.” Tate laughed as he opened the door and left, knowing that he would be at lunch the next day. He just wasn’t sure what would happen after that.
* * *
Grabbing his cell phone from the nightstand, Tate opened his contacts, found Logan’s number, and decided a text would be better than dealing with Logan’s smart mouth this early. Punching in—Morning—he hit Send and wondered how quick of a response he would get. It was almost immediate.
Logan: You’re up early for a day off.
Couldn’t sleep.
Logan: Should I apologize?
Are you sorry?
Logan: Good point. No.
Then, don’t apologize.
Logan: Why couldn’t you sleep?
Busy head.
Logan: Are YOU sorry?
Tate must have stared at that text longer than he’d thought because his phone vibrated again.
Logan: I keep telling you, turn your brain off, Tate.
It’s not that easy.
Logan: Why?
Because.
Logan: I’ve told you already that because doesn’t work for me. Why?
Cause I can’t stop wanting you & you’re a GUY. I don’t like guys. Ugh, I don’t understand why I’m…shit…no one I know will understand.
Logan: Like who?
Friends, family…
Logan: Hang on, we’re meeting family now?
Tate rolled his eyes at the question. The mere suggestion of something other than casual, and Logan changed from flirtatious and demanding, to sarcastic and blunt.
Forget it.
Logan: No, don’t do that.
Do what?
Logan: Get pissed-off. You’re so stubborn.
And you’re impossible.
Logan: Are you scowling?
Tate pressed his fingers to the frown between his brows before lowering them back to the phone.
Yes.
Logan: Hmm, we both know how I feel about that.
The same way you feel about everything?
Logan: And how’s that?
Horny.
Logan: Around you, Tate? 24/7. Now, what time are you coming to get me for lunch?
I’m not coming to get you.
Logan: So, you want ME to come to YOU? Give me your address. I’ll be there ASAP.
Tate glanced around his bedroom and imagined Logan in his room a little too easily, and that had him reaching for his thickening erection. But at the last second, he stopped.
I’ll come to you.
Logan: Thought you might.
What will we tell people?
Logan: People? Like who?
I don’t know. Anyone?
Logan: Nothing. It’s none of their business.
But what if they ask?
Logan: Then, I’ll tell them to fuck off.
What. If. They. Ask. Logan?
Logan: They won’t. But IF they do, I’ll tell them we’re going to lunch to discuss your case.
You’re on the other side.
Logan: Well, everyone knows I like to play both sides.
Not helping.
Logan: Are you laughing or scowling?
Both.
Logan: Well fuck, now I want to kiss you.
Tate looked at that line and read it over and over before another text came through.
Logan: Would you let me?
Yes.
Logan: That was quick.
That was honest.
Logan: And THAT is sexy. Jesus, I can’t be hard at work. Okay, so tell me, what time will you be here?
Tate glanced at the clock on his bedside table to see it was now nine thirty.
How about 12:30?
Logan: How about 11:30?
You’ll be hungry then?
Logan: Yes, but not for food. Tate?
Choosing to ignore the first part of the text, he replied with, Yes?
Logan: I can’t stop thinking about your mouth.
And just that easy, Logan had him lying in bed with a grin.
Well, you better try.
Logan: Oh, I’ve tried, and I can’t wait to again. See you at 11:30.
Yep. See ya.
Then, as quickly as it started, the connection ended.
A precursor of things to come? Tate wondered. Only time will tell.
* * *
Logan sat behind his desk with the phone to his ear and an eye on the clock.
Eleven fifteen, Tate should be here soon…if he shows.
He’ll show. He said he would, and if Tate is anything, he’s undeniably honest.
As he hung up from the call, Logan’s door opened, and Cole stuck his head through the space, motioning in a way as if to ask, Can I come in?