Page 76 of Spilled Coffee

“Stop.” Ethan recoiled, his brain screaming at him to act while his body lagged behind. Eventually he shoved Devon’s hand away, not with a slap or a weak push, but a full-bodied shove fueled by anger and fear.

The release sent a jolt of adrenaline through him, and he sidestepped quickly, putting distance between them. His breaths were shallow and fast as he squared his shoulders and fixed Devon with an unyielding glare. “You need to understand I don’t want this. You need to leave.”

For a moment, Devon was thrown off by this sudden defiance. But then he laughed. “You’re so cute when you’re pissed,” he said, his tone dripping with mockery as he straightened. He advanced again, slow and unhurried, his sheer presence filling the cramped apartment until it felt suffocating. “Makes me wanna pin you down and have you even more.”

Devon towered over Ethan—a six-foot-five wall of muscle that seemed immovable in such a small space.

Ethan wasn’t weak, but Devon was something else entirely: relentless in both size and will.

“Quit acting all innocent.” His voice dropped into something darker, almost coaxing, but laced with menace. “You’ve been begging for it since we left the bar.”

“I haven’t!” Ethan snapped, heat rushing to his face as he darted around the coffee table like it was some flimsy shield that could protect him from what was coming next.

Devon gave a sharklike grin and began circling. “I heard that little groan at the club,” he said, as if savoring his own words. “When I had my hands on you… I felt you get hard. Don’t tell me that was nothing.”

The accusation was like a punch to the gut, and shame burned hot behind his ribs. That groan had been involuntary, but it had betrayed him in ways he hadn’t even realized at the time. Now it felt like a weapon against him.

“That wasn’t me wanting you,” Ethan said through clenched teeth. “That was you pushing things too damn far.” He straightened slightly even as his stomach churned violently beneath the surface. “Back off, Devon. I mean it.”

His words were more an amusing challenge than a warning, and circling the table, Devon closed in once more. “Back off?” he mocked, tilting his head like he was genuinely curious about the concept before shaking it slowly. “Nah… I don’t think so.” His grin widened into something crueler before his hand suddenly lashed out, faster than Ethan could react.

His fingers clamped around Ethan’s wrist and yanked him forward so forcefully that he stumbled into Devon’s chest.

Ethan wrenched himself free with everything he had left. “Get the fuck out!” The words ripped from his throat as he stumbled toward the door without taking his eyes off Devon for even a second. His chest rose and fell rapidly as adrenaline surged through every fiber of him.

For one fleeting moment, Devon paused as if considering retreat after all. But then that smug fucking grin reappeared.“You’re making this so much harder than it needs to be,” he said softly. It was almost conversational, but there was no mistaking how dangerous those words truly were beneath their veneer.

Ethan swallowed hard, setting his jaw tight as he scrubbed a hand over his face. He’d pushed Logan away, too stubborn to listen, and landed right where he’d been warned.

“He’ll take it whether you’re ready or not.”

Regret stabbed deep alongside guilt—guilt for not listening. Devon wasn’t just pushy, he was dangerous, and Ethan wished he’d stayed at the bar. He wished he’d listened to Logan.

CHAPTER 40

Logan sighed deeplyand raked a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands in frustration.

His gaze remained fixed on his phone, the brightness stark in the dimly lit room. The lockscreen was a picture of a sunset he’d taken months ago, its serene beauty completely at odds with the chaos churning inside him.

His thumb hovered over Ethan’s name.

Do I call him? Or do I just let it go?The question had been swirling around for hours, each repetition adding another layer of tension to his already knotted shoulders.

He closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself to think clearly.

A second sigh escaped him, heavier this time, as if it carried all the weight of his indecision, and shoving his chair back with a muted scrape against the floor, he stood up.

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of his jeans and slid them off, tossing them over the back of the chair.

Clad in only his t-shirt and boxers, he pulled back the quilt and climbed into bed. The mattress dipped slightly under his weight as he settled in.

He lay flat on his back, arms bent at the elbows, hands tucked behind his head, staring blankly at the ceiling above. The faint glow from the streetlights outside seeped through the curtains, casting soft shadows that danced across the walls.

Even that small distraction couldn’t pull him away from his thoughts as Ethan’s face floated before him—that smile that never failed to disarm him even when he was furious, those piercing eyes that seemed to see right through him.

Another long sigh broke free from his lips, this one almost a growl. He shifted restlessly, trying to find a position that felt right, but nothing did.

Five more minutes passed before he gave up entirely and flicked the bedside lamp on with an irritated jab of his finger.

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