Not sure how much more he could listen to, Tate was about to end the call when Cole’s voice came through the phone, breaking the silence.
“After Chris, you have not had one serious relationship. You fuck and run. And the first person you decide to focus on is straight?”
Tate sucked in a breath. He didn’t want to hear Logan’s response, but he also found it impossible to ignore.
“You know, when you got married a week after knowing Hot Cheetah Pants, I wasn’t this much of an asshole.”
“No, but you were quick to point out how I tied myself to one person. Just make sure the person you decide to put all your effort into is the right person.”
“You’re really starting to piss me off.”
For once, Tate had to agree with Logan. Cole was really pissing him off, too.
“Am I? Truth hurts, huh?”
“Whatever. What’s your point? If you even have one.”
“My point is, Logan, don’t delude yourself into thinking he’s going to magically switch teams.”
“Well, thank you, Cole, for being so damn supportive. Good thing I’m not delusional.”
Still furious, Tate pushed aside his own anger and disappointment for a moment. He thought he’d caught something in Logan’s tone, but before he could pinpoint it, it was gone.
* * *
Logan wanted to hit something, and he was afraid if Cole didn’t leave, it would be him. So, he advised, “You know where the door is. Why don’t you go and fucking use it?”
Cole stood and walked over to where Logan was now standing behind his desk. Logan hated that he had to look up, even slightly. When he did, he saw a flash of sympathy cross Cole’s face, and he almost gave in to the urge for violence, something he hadn’t done in years.
“I said, get out,” he repeated.
Cole shook his head. “Don’t become someone’s mistake.”
“Why? It’s what I’m good at. I was your father’s biggest mistake.”
Logan knew it was low, and he knew the blow was uncalled for, but Cole was hitting too close to all of his fears and insecurities. When Logan was cornered, he always fought dirty.
“That was low, even for you.”
“Are you really surprised? Now, get out.”
Cole turned on his heel and left the office, leaving Logan just the way he wanted to be—alone. As he moved over to the window, he wondered when exactly he had decided that being alone was all he deserved.
* * *
Tate hit End on the call and threw his phone on the couch, cursing Logan and admonishing himself. How could I have been so damn stupid? This whole thing had disaster written all over it from the beginning.
But after last night, he’d thought—
What? That Logan was serious about all of this? That he cared? Well, there you go. There’s your fucking wake-up call. Loud enough for you?
Tate tried to block out everything he’d heard, and he jumped slightly when the phone beside him started to ring. Looking down at the screen, he saw it was Logan. He picked it up and hit Answer, but he remained silent.
“Tate? You there?”
Tate closed his eyes and turned to lie down on the couch.
“Hello? If you don’t answer me, I’m going to call the cops and tell them to go check my condo just in case you were attacked or—”
“Shut up, Logan,” Tate finally cut him off. He wasn’t going to lay there and act like everything was fine just because Logan was putting on one hell of a show.
“What’s wrong with you?” Logan had the audacity to ask.
Tate couldn’t help the snide tone that crept into his voice. “Oh, nothing serious.”
There was a lengthy pause and then, “Well, obviously, something’s wrong.”
“And obviously, I don’t want to talk to you.”
“Um, what the fuck, Tate?”
Infuriated at himself and Logan, Tate sneered through the phone, “Exactly. What the fuck? Maybe we should go and get Cole for this? Make it a conference call. He seems to know all about our relationship. But hang on, we don’t have one of those, do we? It’s just some fun?”
From the silence that stretched through the phone, Tate knew that Logan had no clue that he’d heard his recent conversation with Cole. He was about to inform him when Logan’s bad temper seemed to finally catch up and he lashed out at him.
“Don’t fuck around with me, Tate. I’m not in the mood.”
That was the exact moment that Tate felt his own rage boil. “Well good, Logan, because I’m not in the mood for you either. You might want to check your recent calls, asshole. Have a nice fucking day.”
With that, Tate ended the call and threw his phone onto the floor. Don’t fuck around with you? Fine by me, Mr. Mitchell, fine by me.