Page 96 of Spilled Coffee

That grin held secrets Brick decided he didn’t want to know. “Let’s make it a night to remember,” he had said, smooth enough to slide right under Brick’s defenses.

How easily he’d fallen for his charm. Too much fucking tequila—that part wasn’t new, but this… this wasn’t anywhere close to being normal.

Hangovers didn’t erase entire nights or leave you naked in bed with a man you barely knew.

Nothing felt wrong—not physically—but that did nothing to soothe his spiraling thoughts. “We couldn’t have… could we?”

Devon’s laugh echoed in his mind.“You were great.”The memory was like a slap in the face, and Brick’s breath hitched as panic surged up from within him. “No,” he swallowed, shaking his head more forcefully. “No, no fuckin’ way.”

His phone suddenly buzzed—an intrusion that made him jump. “Ethan? Please be Ethan?—”

It wasn’t.

Lisa. The text glared back at him like an accusation.

Fun night? Sorry we bailed. U ok?

“Fun night?” Brick repeated bitterly as his thumb hovered over the screen. He held it for several seconds before he tossed it aside with a frustrated growl, too rattled to even think about replying.

His bare feet scuffed the floor as he paced back and forth.

Devon... fucking Devon. That smug bastard had stayed behind after everyone else had left, but why? What had he done?Did he dose me?

Brick’s stomach rolled, and the bathroom called like some cruel oracle waiting to deliver bad news.

He stepped out of the bedroom, afraid of what fresh horrors might greet him, and crossed the hall to the bathroom. He braced against the sink, splashing cold water onto feverish skin.

No amount of water could wash away what had been done—or undo what he thought might’ve been done.

“You were great.”The words continued to linger like poison dripping from an open wound—taunting him with half-truths wrapped in lies.

His throat tightened as he again stared at his fractured reflection before turning away.

Dread gnawed at every corner of Brick’s sanity as he padded back to the bedroom.

Snatching up his phone, he redialed Ethan’s number. His knuckles almost turned white around the case as each ring stabbed at the quiet. He felt alone and was desperate for answers.

“Parker. You know what to do.”

The call went straight to voicemail once more, and Brick stared at the screen, thumb hovering over the end call button as if it might somehow summon Ethan. He tossed the phone down and let out a sharp exhale, frustration bubbling in his chest like water in a pan threatening to spill over.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “What the hell happened last night?”

CHAPTER 54

Steam clungto every surface in the small bathroom, the damp air wrapping Ethan’s bare skin as he stood at the sink. Toothbrush in hand, white foam bubbled against the pink of his mouth.

His reflection in the fogged-up mirror was distorted into a softer version of himself, but what drew his gaze was the faint bruise shadowing his face.

A flicker of anger? Regret? Something darker—passed through Ethan’s thoughts before he pushed it aside and focused on the present.

Movement snagged his attention, and he paused mid-brush, glancing up. “Are you just gonna stand there?” He mumbled around the toothbrush, raising an eyebrow playfully.

Logan leaned casually against the frame of the door—still shirtless, his cotton shorts hanging low on his hips, one hand curled possessively around a mug.

He didn’t answer as he ran his tongue along the rim, licking away a bead of coffee. It wasn’t subtle—it wasn’t meant to be—and Ethan felt a jolt low in his belly at how deliberate it was.

“Can’t say I’m in any hurry to move.” His grin spread, lazy and wicked, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. “I like the view.”

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