Just a Bit Wrecked (Straight Guys 11)

Andrew gave her an inpatient look. They weren’t there to listen to the obvious. He wanted a solution. He wanted to be cured.

Logan’s knee pressed against his, and Andrew breathed out, some of the tension leaving him. All right, he would be patient.

“But it’s almost worse now than it was on the island,” Andrew said, without looking at Logan.

She nodded. “It’s not surprising. You went from being each other’s everything to being nothing. Of course it’s traumatic—it’s too sudden. I wouldn’t recommend abrupt separation. Gradual lessening of contact and intimacy should work better.”

“What do you mean?” Logan said, speaking for the first time.

His knee was still pressed against Andrew’s, a comforting pressure that settled something inside him.

Dr. Gillian looked at Logan. “Try to make your interactions not just about the two of you. Spend time together but with other people there too. Go for long walks in public places. Visit your friends and family together. Try to reclaim your normal routine. Gradually, the need for each other should lessen as you get used to other people until finally it will be completely gone.”

Andrew frowned and looked away. “We’ve already gone to see my aunt together. It didn’t exactly help.”

“It’s not enough, Andrew,” she said. “You have to be patient. There’s no magical cure for your situation. It might take months before you’ll learn to stop needing each other. But it’ll happen sooner the more effort you both make to reintegrate yourselves back into society.”

Andrew pursed his lips. Months? Was she serious?

He looked at Logan. His expression was as grim and unhappy as Andrew felt.

“Thank you, Doctor,” Logan said, getting to his feet.

They left the therapist, feeling even more lost than when they’d arrived. At least Andrew did. He wasn’t sure what Logan was thinking, and it unsettled him.

He couldn’t help shooting the other man sideways looks as Logan started the car.

Logan’s profile was like a stone, impossible to read.

“Where are we going?” Andrew said.

“The airport.”

His stomach tied up into knots. “The airport?”

Logan gave a clipped nod, his gaze on the road. “I’m returning to New York.”

“But the therapist said…” Andrew cringed, hating how small his voice sounded.

“I know what the therapist said. I’m following her instructions.”

Andrew chewed on his bottom lip, confused. “I don’t understand.”

Logan heaved a sigh. “She made it clear there’s no quick solution to the issue. But I can’t hang out here indefinitely. I can run my business from here too, but first I need to go back to New York to delegate some of my responsibilities and get my things.”

“Get your things?” Andrew said, turning his head to him. He stared. “You’re moving to Boston?” For me?

A muscle jumped in Logan’s unshaven cheek. He wouldn’t look at Andrew. “It isn’t a big deal,” he said stiffly. “My family is here, too.”

Right. Of course.

Andrew’s mind was still reeling. He folded his hands in his lap and stared at them.

When will you be back?

The question hovered on the tip of his tongue, but he bit it back. He didn’t want to be that clingy. He was already acting pathetic as it was.

They arrived at the Boston airport way too soon.

“Here.”

Andrew lifted his gaze.

Logan was giving him the car key. There was a strange look in his dark eyes as he gazed at Andrew. “Drive the car back to the hotel,” he said, taking Andrew’s hand and putting the key into his palm. “It’s mine, not the hotel’s. You can use it, if you need it.”

His hand didn’t move away immediately, causing goosebumps to run up Andrew’s arm. His fingers started to tremble, clinging to Logan’s of their own volition.

Logan looked down at them, his gaze so very dark, before looking back into Andrew’s eyes.

“I’ll be back soon,” he said, his voice dropping to a hoarse whisper.

Andrew nodded numbly.

Logan untangled their fingers and opened the car door, letting the outside noise in.

Andrew grabbed his arm.

His muscles tensing, Logan turned back to him.

Andrew darted forward and buried his face against the hollow of Logan’s throat. “I’m sorry for being such a mess,” he whispered, inhaling his scent greedily. He despised himself for acting like a junkie with a bad case of addiction whose drug was about to be taken away. But God, Logan smelled so good. Andrew wasn’t even sure what he smelled like, but he smelled perfect. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, gripping Logan’s biceps. “I’m sorry I’m making your life harder and being—”

“Shut up,” Logan said roughly, squeezing him with his arms. “We’ll figure it out.” He dropped a kiss on top of Andrew’s head and took an audible breath. Then he pulled away and got out of the car.

Andrew stared at his wide back until Logan’s tall figure was swallowed by the crowd.

Chapter 20

Andrew would like to say he did something productive with his time after Logan left, but that would be a lie.