Page 37 of Spilled Coffee

“Whoa… hold on,” Devon shot back defensively. “Why pin this on me? I’m the one who found him like this. Apparently, he showed up with some guy named Brick.”

“Brick?” Logan exhaled sharply, raking his fingers through his hair, pacing a tight circle. “And where’s Brick now?”

“The big guy—Texan drawl? I think I saw him leave with a couple of girls earlier.” Devon leaned against the table, which creaked ominously under his weight. “A blonde and a brunette—seemed like a party.”

“Damn it,” Logan cursed, frustration clenching like a vise. He stopped pacing and ran both hands through his hair, then glared at Ethan—a faint groan the only hint of life.

“I debated calling you,” Devon confessed, cradling his beer. “But leaving him like this? Couldn’t do it. Someone this good-looking, this drunk... he’d be a sitting duck. There’s some people here wouldn’t care he’s too far gone to fight back.” He slammed his beer down, the empty bottle clattering with finality. “Guess we should take him home. You got your truck, right?”

“Ethan,” Logan crouched down, slapping the unconscious man’s cheek with increasing force, eliciting a low moan but no coherent response. “Ethan...” He tried again, then sighed as the club’s relentless beat hammered his skull. “Damn it, look at him. Hell, I’m surprised you didn’t jump on this. I caught you the other day, couldn’t tear your eyes away.”

Devon’s grin twisted, a reckless shrug punctuating his words. “Who wouldn’t? That body’s a damn masterpiece, those thighs, that chest. Hell yeah, the thought flashed by, but he’s too far gone even for me. Didn’t want him waking up clueless.” He leaned in, his voice dripping with conspiracy. “I like my guys to remember the way I fuck them. Besides, he’s only getting hard for one person right now.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed, the tension tightening in his jaw. “Don’t drag me into this.”

“Oh, come on,” Devon shot back with a raucous laugh. “He’s smitten, surely you can see that?”

“Ethan’s… he’s just got things twisted up in his head right now.” Logan snapped curtly, brushing it off as if it was nothing more than a nuisance.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that,” Devon sneered, his smirk hardening into a scowl. “So why’s he drowning himself in tequila? What’s he trying to block out?”

“Beats me,” Logan muttered, exasperation simmering. “Maybe he has woman troubles.”

Devon’s laughter exploded, mocking and deep. “You really trying to tell me this ain’t tied to you?”

Their eyes locked in a war of silent accusations, the sharp scrutiny of Logan’s gaze clashing with Devon’s relentless glare.

“Keep denying it, like you always do.” Devon hissed low, the edge of old wounds raw in his tone. “Denial fixes everything, right? He said you didn’t go all the way yet. What are you holding back for? Hell, he’s practically begging for you to do it. But then you’re the master of toying with emotions, aren’t you?”

“It’s complicated,” Logan snapped defensively, his voice a blend of fury and hurt. “And this isn’t like it was with us, there are layers, intricacies.”

“Oh, I get it’s a damn labyrinth,” Devon exhaled with a rough, heavy sigh, and as he leaned back, the fabric of his shirt strained over his muscles. “What the hell possessed you to get involved with someone like him? He’s on your team, you knew it would spiral out of control. You and I gained enough scars, but spinning up together would have torched the place.”

Logan sank onto the stool beside Ethan, with the tired thud of his elbows against the table as he ran his hands through his hair. “Jeez… what the hell do I do now?” The long sigh was a mix of despair and regret. “You’re right, I crossed a line. I always held to the rule: never let life bleed into work. But I’ve fucked that up, and now I’m left trying to untangle the damn mess.”

Devon moved in, his hands slamming onto Logan’s shoulders, firm and insistent as they kneaded the tension. “Listen, this isn’t who you are,” he murmured, his voice softening yet still edged with intensity. “It’ll be fine. It hasn’tspiraled completely. Talk to him. Lay it all out, then make a clean cut.”

Logan shrugged off Devon’s touch, frustration etching deep lines into his face. A reluctant smile ghosted his lips when his gaze fell on Ethan—vulnerable in his drunken state.

“Gotta admit, he’s damn cute.” Devon’s laugh followed, low and taunting. “I see why he’s impossible to resist. You always did have killer taste.”

“Will you just fucking stop?” Logan’s irritation flared, but his smile lingered. “What the hell am I gonna do with him?”

Devon rested a hand on Logan’s thigh, a casual tease. “Let’s just get him home, then you can decide.” He grinned, pulling back as Logan shoved the hand off with a frown.

“Ethan, c’mon, buddy… we gotta get you up and take you home.”

“Ready?” Devon slid a shoulder under Ethan’s arm, bracing his weight. “On three...”

Logan mirrored him, gripping Ethan on his other side as they heaved him up.

His body was heavy and limp, his boots trailing across the floor as they maneuvered him up and out of the dimly lit lounge.

They headed past the bathrooms and along the hall, and with help from one of the security guys that Devon knew, they used a fire exit at the back of the club to leave.

The pulsing chaos inside the club faded into a dull throb as the heavy metal door clanged shut behind them.

CHAPTER 19

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