Page 78 of Spilled Coffee

“You know, I’m surprised that those shots haven’t had more effect on you.”

“I only drank one.”

Devon grinned. “So, you gonna show me your bedroom, or would you rather do it right here on the couch?”

Ethan again found himself trapped between Devon and the breakfast bar. “We’re not doing anything. You’re going to leave.”

“Oh, I’m not going anywhere, at least not until we’re done here.” Devon grabbed the back of Ethan’s head, forcing his tongue deep into his mouth.

Devon was hellishly strong, but Ethan summoned all his strength to shove him back. “Get the fuck off me!”

“Oooo... feisty. I like that in you.” Devon smiled. “You wanna play rough? That’s good, I like rough.”

Ethan took a breath, looking for something—anything—he could use as a weapon. But with nowhere to run, the apartment suddenly felt impossibly small.

At a familiar sound, his eyes darted to the table. That stupid ringtone he’d been meaning to change but never got around to. Both men turned toward the noise at the same time.

Thank God.Ethan saw Logan’s name flash across the screen. If only he could reach it… if only…

His pulse thundered in his ears, and adrenaline pulsed through him like lightning. He had to act fast, he had to find a way out of this situation before it was too late.

“Oh, I don’t think so.” Devon’s eyes darkened as he positioned himself between Ethan and what now felt like salvation. “This party is only just getting started.”

CHAPTER 42

Logan’s apartmenthad felt like a prison. The shadows stretched across the walls, distorted by the streetlights outside, while the faint hum of late-night traffic seeped through the open window.

He was restless, and even the noise didn’t distract him. He was drowning in his own thoughts, every moment stretching unbearably long, every second dragging for what felt like hours, until his frustration finally became unbearable.

He’d tried everything to calm himself: flipping through TV channels, scrolling aimlessly through his phone, even attempting to read the dog-eared book left discarded on the couch.

Nothing worked. His mind just kept circling back to Ethan and their argument at the bar.

Now he sat in his Jeep, parked under the dim glow of the lot’s solitary street lamp.

Logan shoved the keys into the ignition, and the engine growled to life with a throaty roar that vibrated through the seat. He let it idle, staring blankly at the dashboard. The clock glowed, its unforgiving green digits seeming to glare back like an accusation.

“Goddamn you, Ethan Parker,” Logan snarled as he dragged one hand down his face, exhaustion and irritation etched into every line of his expression. “Why can’t you just answer your fucking phone.”

The cell rested in the cupholder, its screen dark and unresponsive despite the three calls he’d made in quick succession. Each attempt had gone straight to voicemail, and each time it left him more irate than the last.

He could still hear the chipper tone of Ethan’s message that felt at odds with how things had ended between them earlier.

Logan clenched his jaw and gripped the steering wheel tightly. The last hour had been hellish. Tossing and turning in bed as he’d tried to shut everything off, flipping onto his side and punching his pillow into submission. Sleep had eluded him entirely, slipping through his grasp and mocking him for even trying.

Every time he closed his eyes, Ethan’s face was there.

He’d pushed too hard at the bar and ruined it all with careless words. “Fuck,” he growled, his knuckles turning white as his grip tightened on the wheel. He slammed his palm against the horn, letting out an angry blare that echoed through the empty lot.

He couldn’t leave things like this, not after everything they’d been through. His head fell back against the seat, and he exhaled sharply. “Why do you have to be so fuckin’ annoying?” There was an edge to his voice, a crack where anger bled into desperation.

Ethan was stubborn—maddeningly so—but this silence… It was driving Logan half-mad.

What if he’s with Devon?

That thought struck suddenly like a lightning bolt, white-hot as it seared straight through him. His stomach was knotted so tight it felt like it would never come undone.

Devon’s smug face flashed before him, as if conjured from thin air by his own paranoia. “I’ll try not to be too rough.” He could still hear his taunt.

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