Page 57 of Spilled Coffee

When Logan didn’t respond, Ethan instinctively reached out, grabbing his arm firmly enough to make him look up. The muscle under his grip was solid and tense. “Dammit, Logan, talk to me,” Ethan snapped.

His fingers trembled slightly as they cupped Logan’s cheek, feeling the rough stubble beneath them. It felt different from the soft warmth of the night before.

He leaned in until their lips brushed together in a fleeting kiss—a whisper of contact that spoke volumes more than words ever could. “I didn’t get to say thank you.” His eyes glistened with unshed tears as he whispered, “I had a really good time… and I’d like to do it again.”

For a heartbeat that stretched impossibly long, Logan didn’t move. He just stared at Ethan, his expression almost unreadable, but then fury erupted from inside him, like lightning striking the ground.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he roared as his hands shot out and grabbed Ethan by the collar.

The world tilted violently as he shoved him back with enough force to slam him against the cage behind them. The metal rattled loudly under the impact, its cold bite pressed into Ethan’s back even through layers of fabric and gear.

Logan loomed over him like an unstoppable force—his knuckles white where they gripped the khaki shirt tightly enough to strain the seams. “I fucking told you,” he growled through clenched teeth, a low rumble that sent shivers down Ethan’s spine for entirely different reasons than last night had.“This thing between us, it doesn’t happen here! Not at work. You can’t just come at me like this.”

Ethan winced but refused to look away despite everything in him screaming to do so. “I… I just wish you hadn’t left like that this morning. I imagined…” he continued hesitantly, “if we ever did sleep together… we’d have breakfast or talk or maybe even cuddle.” A mirthless laugh escaped him as tears threatened but refused to fall. “Guess I was stupid for thinking that.”

Logan blinked, his lashes lowering as if shielding something buried beneath. A flicker of vulnerability—raw, fleeting, and almost imperceptible—broke through before he slammed it shut behind walls of steel.

“Get the fuck away from me!” His jaw tightened, and a muscle twitched as he released Ethan’s shirt and shoved him back with considerable force. He was trying to create distance not just between their bodies, but their hearts, too.

He raked both hands through his dark hair in frustration, tugging at the strands as though trying to drag himself out of an internal battle. “I told you,” he continued, his tone slightly quieter but no less rigid. “This doesn’t come into work.” He paused, his chest rising and falling in an uneven rhythm as he steadied himself. “Look,” he said, not meeting Ethan’s eyes because meeting those eyes might undo him completely. “I’m not saying it won’t happen again… I’m just not planning it anytime soon.”

The words felt hollow as they left his mouth. He knew it, and so did Ethan.

He let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “You were a good time,” he added. “And yeah, I enjoyed it. Does that make you feel better?”

Ethan flinched as if punched. “No,” he said softly at first, then louder: “No, it doesn’t.” His lip quivered, and despite hisefforts to hold steady, his hurt spilled over. Frustration turned into anger, rising like a tide he couldn’t stop.

How could this be the same man who’d held him so tenderly last night? Who had made him feel seen in ways no one else ever had?

That warmth was gone, replaced now by something cold and unrecognizable.

“Okay,” he finally said, squaring his shoulders, trying to keep himself from crumbling. “I get it. You don’t want anyone knowing. But why act like this?” Ethan’s hands clenched into fists at his sides as the ache spread like a fire across his chest.

Logan’s eyes flashed with frustration as he began pacing back and forth in tight circles like a caged animal searching for an escape. “It’s not about not wanting them to know,” he snapped, the words coming quick and defensive now. “Theycan’tknow.” He stopped abruptly. “Do you have any fucking idea what happens if they find out?” He gestured wildly with one hand while the other rubbed the back of his neck like it might keep him from unraveling entirely.

He laughed and shook his head. “If that’s the kind of life you want with a guy… Fine,” he continued, spitting out each word like venom. “Go find Mr. Perfect—a man who can give you whatever dream you’ve got planned out in your head.” His voice dropped, dangerous and resolute, as he added, “But don’t drag me into it. I’m not him andthisis not happening.”

Logan’s words hit hard, but despite every instinct screaming at him to walk away before he got hurt even worse, Ethan stepped closer.

“Please, don’t do this,” he pleaded as tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. He hated how fragile he sounded, but couldn’t stop himself from speaking, because if there was even a sliver of hope to salvage what was between them, he had to try. “Last night you cared. I felt it.” Clenching his hands into tightfists, Ethan willed himself to hold on. “You’re not this monster,” he said softly. “I know you.”

Logan let out another laugh, but there was no amusement behind it. He rubbed both hands over his face, then let them fall limply at his sides. “Monster?” he repeated bitterly. His lips curled into something resembling a smirk, but it was all defense, walls built high enough no one could climb over them… not even Ethan.

“I’m just being real with you.” Behind his words were layer upon layer of self-preservation—instincts honed over years of burying secrets so deeply that even he sometimes forgot where they were hidden. He would never let anyone in—not fully. Not even Ethan, who had already managed to get closer than anyone else ever had.

“Did you talk to Devon about us?” His smile twisted, cold and knowing. “Yeah, he told me you did.” He laughed, sharp and bitter. “You know he wants you,” he continued, his eyes narrowing as though he could see through Ethan’s defenses. “But let me tell you something—Devon will chew you up and spit you out. You think I’m hurting you? Devon is a whole other level of hurt. He’s not what you think.”

Ethan clenched his fists, then unclenched, only to clench again as if they couldn’t decide whether to hold back or strike out. “Hurt me like I am now?” he shot back. “Hurt me like you’ve hurt me?” His chest heaved as he took a step closer, his eyes blazing with anguish. “At least Devon won’t break my heart, because guess what… You already did!”

The words came out sharper than he intended, and truer than he wished they were. “And at least he checked on me this morning. Unlike you. So maybe it’s none of your damn business who I see. You’ve made it perfectly clear how you feel.”

Logan flinched. “Ethan…” he began, stepping forward to close the gap between them as if he might somehow bridge thegrowing chasm in their relationship. “Trust me on this… stay away from Devon. He doesn’t care for anyone but himself. He just takes what he wants. You’ll be nothing more than a notch on his belt, and when it ends—and it will—it won’t be pretty.” He exhaled slowly, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his own words. “My advice? Steer clear of Devon.”

Ethan laughed, and his frown deepened as he shook his head. “Where the fuck do you get off lecturing me about getting hurt? You of all people?” His voice cracked, but this time it was from sheer incredulity rather than anger. “Not after this.” He squared his shoulders and met Logan’s gaze head-on. “I’ll see whoever I damn well please, and it has nothing to do with you anymore.” He paused for a beat before adding, “Unless… you’re offering me something more?”

The silence that followed was deafening.

“No,” Ethan continued with resignation rather than rage. “No, you’re not even offering another night together… are you?”

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