Page 8 of Spilled Coffee

A thrill of something dangerously close to excitement shot through Ethan—a maddening contradiction to the anxiety twisting his gut. He snapped his focus back on the paperwork, signing with a flourish that nearly tore through the paper.

He stood up and thrust the clipboard back to the receptionist.

“Thank you,” she said brightly, her professional smile unwavering as she glanced at the form. “Mr. Lockwood, Mr. Parker... your room is ready for you now.”

Ethan froze, his brows rising as he processed what she just said. “Room?” His voice came out louder than he’d intended, tinged with a hint of panic. His fingers tightened on the counter, as though bracing himself.

The receptionist didn’t seem to notice his discomfort, her smile widening as she clarified, “It’s a twin session. Mr. Lockwood requested it so you can talk while you relax.”

Ethan felt the floor tilt beneath him. Talk while you relax? The phrase sounded absurdly casual for what seemed like an impossibly intimate situation. He opened his mouth to protest, but before he could find the right words, a warm weight settled on his shoulder.

Logan.

The man’s hand was reassuring, but to be honest that only made things worse. Heat radiated from his palm throughEthan’s shirt, and suddenly all he could think about was how close they were standing.

“C’mon,” Logan said, his voice smooth as velvet. There was an easy grin playing on his lips, but there was something else, too—a subtle tightness around his eyes that hinted at his own anticipation. “Let’s get you ready for your first time.”

Ethan nearly choked.First time?Could Logan hear himself? Did he know how that sounded?

He scrambled to find a funny retort, but Logan was already leaning in, his breath ghosting over his ear. “I booked thefullspa package,” he continued, his tone dropping conspiratorially, as if sharing some grand secret. His pupils were dilated just slightly as he pulled back to meet Ethan’s gaze. “Massage, sauna—the works. Thought you could use it after today.”

Ethan forced a nod because suddenly speaking felt impossible. Every nerve in his body was on high alert, and even the receptionist’s cheerful voice seemed muffled compared to the roar in his ears.

“Just let Devon know when you’re ready for the sauna,” she added, before turning her attention back to her screen.

Logan didn’t wait and gave Ethan a gentle nudge toward the hall beyond the reception. “C’mon, kid,” he repeated, this time with more amusement coloring his tone. “You’ll feel like a new man after this.”

The hall stretched ahead like an endless tunnel leading straight into uncharted territory, the doors lining either side silent witnesses to whatever awaited them beyond.

The atmosphere was serene, the muted lighting casting warm golden hues on cream-colored walls.

Ethan felt even more out of place.

This is either gonna be incredible... or a fucking disaster, he thought, though deep down he suspected it would be both.

He stole another quick glance at Logan as they strode down the hall. The older man moved with confidence—shoulders squared and strides measured. The corner of his mouth was pulled up in a half-smile that could have meant anything.

“You good?” he suddenly asked, one eyebrow arching questioningly.

“Uh, yeah,” Ethan croaked, unconvincing in his reply.

“Relax,” Logan chuckled as he pushed open a door at the end of the hall and gestured Ethan inside. His expression softened momentarily, a flash of genuine concern breaking through his usual confident demeanor. “Rookie first.”

Ethan hesitated as their arms brushed briefly in passing—a fleeting contact that sent sparks skittering across his flesh.

Fuck me...he thought, then prayed he hadn’t said it out loud.

CHAPTER 5

The treatment roomwas filled with the scent of fresh linen and a whisper of eucalyptus. Two tables sat side-by-side, each draped with a crisp white towel folded into a perfect square.

Towels. Thank fuck.

Ethan exhaled, a shaky puff of relief, realizing he’d forgotten to bring one. The thought of lying bare without that thin shield had been gnawing at him since the lobby.

The receptionist hovered at the door, her posture almost as starched as her uniform. “If you’d like to get undressed, Devon and Yvette will be with you shortly.”

“Thanks, Joanne,” Logan said, peeling his gray T-shirt over his head in one fluid move. The fabric ruffled his dark hair, and he tossed it onto a chair, all casual confidence, like stripping naked was as routine as field-stripping a rifle.

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