Page 64 of Spilled Coffee

Ethan forced a laugh that sounded false even to himself. “He’s alright. Just his way, I guess.” He paused for half a beat. “He’s a hands-on kinda guy—which, being a masseur, makes sense, right?” He shifted uncomfortably under Brick’s scrutiny but said nothing more, his thoughts were already elsewhere.

Brick nodded but didn’t look entirely convinced, and his brow furrowed as if trying to piece something together.

CHAPTER 32

The doorto the men’s room swung open, and Logan entered. The dim, yellow light flickered once then settled, while the faint aroma of bleach struggled against a pungent, sour scent. It was the kind of smell that lingered in public bathrooms long after they had been cleaned.

At the sink, Devon stood, sleeves pushed up, scrubbing his hands under a weak stream of water.

Logan studied him for a moment then cleared his throat. “Alright?” he said in a gruff voice, his jaw tight, carrying more tension than actual concern.

Devon kept washing his hands as though he hadn’t registered Logan at all. “I’m good. You?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Logan shifted, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned casually against the wall. The cool tiles pressed through the fabric of his shirt, grounding him, while his gaze remained focused on Devon’s reflection. “Didn’t expect to see you here,” he added after a beat.

Devon shut off the tap and water dripped from his fingers as he reached for a wad of paper towels in the dispenser mounted crookedly on the wall. “It has its attractions,” he said lightly, watching Logan in the mirror as he blotted his hands dry. “Lotsof muscle, testosterone, and there’s a blond that’s real cute.” He tossed the crumpled towels into an overflowing trash can and smiled.

Logan clenched his teeth, feeling the ache in his jaw. “You caught Eddie’s attention with your little performance out there. He’s worried about you hanging around with Ethan and Brick.” Logan shot back, uncrossing his arms as he straightened.

“Really?” Devon cocked a brow and feigned surprise. “Well, Eddie’s always been a bit of a buzzkill.” He tilted his head slightly, curiosity flickering briefly behind his dark eyes before it was swallowed by amusement. “And you? Are you worried about me and your precious boy? Yeah he told me about you and him. Maybe,” he continued slowly, “you’re jealous.” He trailed off for dramatic effect before delivering the final blow with a wicked gleam in his eye. “I guess the real question is… who are you jealous of? Me, because I get to put my hands on your boy? Or maybe it’s Ethan because I’ll give him what you won’t?”

Logan’s pulse spiked, a rush of heat crawling up his neck that had nothing to do with the stuffy air. His posture stiffened, and he closed what little space remained between them. “Listen to me,” he said sharply through gritted teeth. “What happened between us… was a long time ago.” He leaned in until they were eye-to-eye, and whatever amusement had been dancing in Devon’s expression faltered. “We were both fucked up back then, and it’s never happening again.” His voice hardened, as if to challenge him. “Get that through your head.”

Devon blinked before throwing back his head in a bitter bark of laughter that echoed loudly within the confined space of the bathroom. “Fucked up?” He repeated, with incredulity and arched his brows a little higher. “Is that what you tell yourself, to sleep better at night?” He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, the bitterness in his tone hidden like shards of glassunder a velvet curtain. “That it was just the booze, and that what happened in Kabul was just two guys blowing off steam?”

Logan clenched his fists at his sides, as though trying to physically restrain himself. His jaw worked silently for a moment as he fought for composure, but when he finally spoke, his voice was cold steel wrapped in a thin veneer of control. “Don’t drag Ethan into this shit between us. If you’ve got a problem with me, keep him out of it. Do you hear me?”

“Oh, get over yourself,” Devon snarled, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation. He took half a step, closing what was left of the space between them. “This ain’t about you. Though…” He paused for effect. “I wouldn’t say no to a threesome if that’s what you’re fishing for.”

His laugh was brash and it was meant to provoke.

Logan’s hand shot out, gripping the front of Devon’s shirt, knuckles white with tension. “You need to back off and leave him the fuck alone.” His tone was lethal this time, a quiet fury that promised violence. “He’s not ready for your kind of thing. You treat people like toys,” He spat, each word sharper than the last. “And Ethan’s not that.”

Devon didn’t flinch, not even a little. If anything, he seemed to revel in Logan’s anger, feeding off it like a parasite. His eyes flicked down to Logan’s hand on his shirt, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “You worried because I’m not all warm and fuzzy like you?” He snorted before continuing, his gaze flicking briefly toward the door as if expecting an audience at any moment. “I’ll give you I don’t do soft and gentle.” He gave a simple shrug. “But I can show him how real men fuck. Don’t worry I won’t be too rough.”

Logan’s breath hitched enough for Devon to notice. His grin widened triumphantly as he pressed on mercilessly. “Perhaps you’re worried he’ll like it too much?”

Logan’s shoulders tensed, a muscle twitching along his jawline as the urge to slam Devon against the wall surged through him, hot and dangerous. His free hand curled into a fist at his side, trembling with the effort of restraint.

“He won’t,” Logan ground out with no hesitation, only raw certainty. “I know him, it’s not his thing.” He straightened as if trying to regain some semblance of control despite the inferno raging inside him. He released Devon’s shirt with a small shove. “Stay away from Ethan.”

“Or what?” Devon shot back, daring Logan to follow through on whatever unspoken threat hung between them. “You’ll file a complaint like last time?”

The door suddenly swung open and a burly man reeking of beer and cigarettes stumbled inside. His flannel shirt hung open, his beater stained with liquor. He nodded at the two men without really looking before heading unsteadily toward one of the urinals at the far end.

The intrusion shattered whatever had been building between Logan and Devon like glass hitting concrete, leaving behind only jagged pieces, impossible to put back together again.

Silence settled around them.

Logan’s lips parted as if to say something, but he found himself faltering.

Devon opened the outer door and light spilled in from the hallway. “Just know I’m not done with Ethan, not by a long shot.” He paused for a moment before he glanced back, one eyebrow arched slightly. “See you soon.”

The door closed with a soft click, leaving Logan alone with the burly stranger who was still fumbling at the urinal.

He gripped the porcelain sink like it was the only thing holding him up. His reflection stared back from the mirror: jaw clenched tight, dark circles smudging under his eyes like shadows that wouldn’t fade.

Devon’s words echoed in his head with brutal clarity, and Logan’s stomach twisted.

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