Page 49 of Spilled Coffee

Ethan scrambled, grabbing the towel draped over the bathroom door and wrapped it hastily around his waist. The fabric clung stubbornly to his erection no matter how much he tried to adjust it.

“I’m just coming!”

He suddenly realized what he’d said, and a childish chuckle burst from inside him…literally.

CHAPTER 25

“Devon!”

Hope evaporated like mist under sunlight as he blinked up at the towering figure standing at the door.

Humiliation crept up his neck, and he suddenly felt exposed both physically and emotionally.

Devon’s lazy smile didn’t help.

“Hey,” he flashed a grin so bright it practically lit up the hallway outside. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up casually to reveal forearms corded with muscle. He exuded effortless confidence. “Just thought I’d stop by to check on you,” he continued, oblivious—or perhaps indifferent—to Ethan’s embarrassment. “I got your address from the forms you filled out at the spa.” He paused for effect before adding with an amused chuckle: “Just wanted to check you were okay after last night. You were pretty damn wasted.”

Ethan cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah... not bad,” he managed before offering, “I was about to shower.”

Devon’s grin stretched wide and something mischievous flickered briefly behind his eyes. There was a playful gleam in the way he looked at Ethan, like he was holding onto aprivate joke only he understood. His gaze dipped, lingering for a moment before darting back up. It was so quick it might have seemed accidental—except it wasn’t. It never was with Devon.

“You look pretty livened up already,” he remarked, the words rolling off his tongue like a challenge wrapped in humor. His chuckle followed, carrying with it an edge of amusement.

Ethan’s face burned hotter, and he shifted his stance, gripping the towel tighter as if it offered some kind of shield.

“Anyway,” Devon continued, “that’s all. Oh, and sorry I had to call Logan, but when Brick bailed, I didn’t know what else to do.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he spoke, his biceps flexing against the snug fit of his shirt. There was nothing apologetic about the way he carried himself.

“It’s fine—and thanks,” Ethan said quickly, offering a nod that felt too stiff. “I appreciate you not leaving me. God knows what I drank but my head’s killing me. Must’ve been those shots.”

“Yeah, you were pretty out of it.” Devon leaned casually against the frame, crossing one ankle over the other as though he owned the space—or could if he wanted to. His presence filled the narrow entryway effortlessly, from the stretch of his broad shoulders to the easy smirk on his lips.

“Well…” he added after a pause, straightening slightly but not moving away just yet. “If you’re all good, I’ll head off.”

He half turned but stopped short, glancing back with a grin that managed to be flirty. “Pity you crashed last night, I thought we were really hitting it off.”

Ethan blinked at him, heat rising in his cheeks as his stomach somersaulted. The words tumbled out before he could stop them, and he swallowed hard after they escaped. “Uh… sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.” He shifted awkwardly, one hand running through his already-messy hair. “Like I said, I was pretty out of it.”

Devon didn’t seem fazed by Ethan’s fumbling. If anything, it seemed to amuse him. His grin widened, a slow curve that revealed just enough teeth to be maddeningly self-assured, and there was something almost predatory in the way his gaze held Ethan’s. “It’s cool,” he said, shrugging one shoulder. “I liked it.”

Ethan felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. His heart thudded in his chest as Devon lingered on those words just long enough for their meaning to sink in before continuing.

“If you ever wanna pick up where we left off,” he added smoothly, “you know where I am.” He tilted his head, waiting for a reaction before flashing another grin. “Or come by for another massage—solo this time.” His tone shifted as he gestured vaguely to Ethan’s shoulders. “Not saying you’d go for a guy like me—just saying I’d like to work on those muscles.”

Ethan flushed an even deeper shade of crimson, stammering something unintelligible before Devon stepped back toward the door.

For a moment, Ethan thought he might leave, but then he paused, one hand resting lightly on the doorknob. “I’ll let you take that shower,” he said casually, though there was nothing casual about the way his eyes lingered for just a beat too long.

Guilt flared in Ethan’s chest, then a sharp pang that cut through the fog of his hangover, and whatever else had been clouding his thoughts since Devon showed up. He remembered little about last night, and certainly not enough to know whether he’d led Devon on or just embarrassed himself. But something made him feel like he owed him…

“Do you wanna come inside?” he blurted out before he could second-guess himself. The words hung there for half a second before he added hastily, “I was just about to make coffee.”

Devon raised a brow, a single arch of intrigue. “You alone?” he asked simply.

Ethan nodded quickly—a little too quickly—and cleared his throat. “Uh… yeah.”

Devon’s grin returned, not quite wolfish but certainly edging toward it, and without another word, he swept past into the apartment.

His shoulder grazed Ethan’s faintly, a touch so light it could have been accidental, but wasn’t.

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