Page 39 of Sapphire Sunset

“Say what?”

Standing, Logan hopped up and down as he tugged a sock on toone foot, not the most comfortable way to get dressed but with every newsentence out of this guy’s mouth, the more Logan wanted to get the hell outbefore the aforementioned boyfriend burst in and chloroformed him.

“You know, you’rekindafamousaround these parts.” Snippy had raised himself up on his elbows in a way thatmade his abs pop, but his wild bedhead didn’t match the sultry pose.

“This building?”

Had he hooked up with someone else in this apartmentbuilding? It was possible, but he doubted it.

“No, silly. The OC. As in Grindr Orange County,SergeantStud.”

Logan felt a flash of embarrassment at having his screenname repeated out loud. He was pretty sure the guy across the room from himwouldn’t want to be calledHaPyBtTmin politecompany. But there was no polite company around, so what was the big deal?Still, neither one of them included their faces in their profile pics, onlytheir shirtless, muscled torsos, some teasing glimpses of naked waistlines.That said something about a mutual desire for anonymity.

“Oh. Alrighty, then.” Logan punched one leg through hisjeans and then the other.

“Come on. Don’t get all butthurt. If you don’t want guys comparingnotes, you shouldn’t hook up with every dude who’s into dudes in Orange County.Expand to LA or something.”

“What’s this about twenty dollars? I don’t get it.” He knewhe should get out of there and fast, but he couldn’t resist asking.

“Oh. My friends and I had a bet going that I’d be the onewho could get you to kiss.”

“By punching me?” Logan asked.

“By asking nicely.”

“Awesome,” Logan whispered.

“The punching was my idea.”

“Got it.”

“So what’s your deal anyway?” Snippy asked. “You straight?Married? An assassin?”

“You going to enter it into my file with all your Grindrbuddies?” Logan pulled his T-shirt over his head—the tight, plain hunter greenone he wore mostly to hookups to make a good front door impression because hisbiceps popped in it. Now it felt sweaty and confining.

“Don’t get offended. You’re a memorable guy, Sergeant Stud.Even if you are over thirty. But with your height and that body…shit. You cankeep at it for a while. Come thirty-five, though, you’re going to want to transitionover to Scruff or else you’ll get autoblocked bytwinkslike me.”

Like you’re such a treasure, Snippy, Logan thought.

“Wait,” Snippy asked, looking panicked. “You’re not overthirty-five, are you?’Causethat’s like a rule withme.”

“Is it?”

Logan was thirty-two, but he’d rather let the ageist douchetwist in the wind than say so.

Having tied the laces on both of his sneakers in recordtime, he buckled his belt. Usually, unless the meeting was a complete disaster,he compensated his hookups for his no kissing rule with a light peck on the foreheadon his way out the door. This hookup, however, qualified as a complete disaster.Almost as bad as the guy he hadn’t realized was a tweaker until they were bothundressed and he suddenly said he just needed a minute to check the oven andsee if there was still a witch inside of it. Logan had gotten out of therefast.

“Have a good one,” Logan said. “I’m going to head out beforeyou drown me in integrity.”

“I’m wearing Cool Water. But thanks, I guess?”

“Not talking about your cologne, Happy Bottom. You take carenow. And don’t punch people.”

“Men love a mystery, Sergeant Stud!” the guy called afterhim as he booked it down the apartment’s single hallway.

Logan answered by shutting the front door behind him with afirm thud.

It was so hot outside the air hit him likeanother punch from Snippy, this one in the face.

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