Those pretty lips pursed slightly when Andrew saw the message. “It’s Shawn again,” he said. “He’s inviting me for lunch.”
Logan lifted his gaze. “You want to go?”
Andrew pulled a funny face, raking a hand through his messy curls. Fuck, he looked… Obviously he looked ridiculously sexy, all flushed and fucked out—but he also looked endearingly thoughtful. Endearingly.
Christ, he was screwed.
“I don’t know,” Andrew said and caught his bottom lip between his teeth, looking down. He sighed. “I don’t want to go, but I probably have to. I need to stop Vivian’s brother from doing something potentially disastrous—again.”
“Hm.”
Andrew looked at him. “What?”
“You don’t owe those people anything,” Logan said, carefully keeping his tone neutral. “You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”
Andrew’s brows furrowed. There was something almost like bewilderment in his eyes, as if he didn’t even understand the concept.
“I need to do it,” Andrew said, shaking his head. He set his jaw stubbornly. “Not because I think I owe something to the Rutledges. It’s my company, too. I’ve worked my ass off for it for a decade. I’m not letting anyone ruin it, be it Caldwell or Derek.”
Logan suppressed a smile. “Okay,” he said. He glanced at his watch. “It’s eleven already. You should probably be heading out soon.”
Andrew frowned and dropped his gaze, his fingers anxiously playing with the sheets beneath him.
When he looked up again, his face was difficult to read. “Didn’t the therapist say we should do stuff together?”
Logan stared at him. “You want me to go with you to your brother-in-law’s house?”
A faint flush appeared on Andrew’s cheekbones. “It’s not that I want to. I just—I just want to follow the doctor’s instructions and… Isn’t that what we both want? Become normal again.”
Normal.
Logan sat up, turning his back to Andrew, and said, “Fine.”
Behind him, Andrew was quiet.
Logan stared at the condoms peeking out of his jeans’ pocket. He’d forgotten to use them again. Irresponsible as hell. But then again, “irresponsible” was a good word to describe this clusterfuck of a relationship. God, what were they doing?
“Are you…” Andrew paused. “Are you mad at me?”
Logan’s lips thinned.
“Why do you care even if I am?” he said tersely.
He felt the mattress dip as Andrew shifted, pressing his chest against Logan’s bare back, his arms wrapping around Logan’s middle. Logan sat very still.
Andrew sighed, burying his face in Logan’s nape. He breathed in audibly. “I don’t want to care,” he whispered. “But you know I do.” He gave a brittle laugh. “I care too much; that’s the problem. Until we become normal again, I—” His voice cracked. “I can’t fucking stand the thought of you being mad at me and leaving. I need you. Help me to stop needing you. And I’ll get out of your hair, I promise.”
Logan stared at the opposite wall. “All right.”
Andrew kissed the back of his neck and let out a contented little sigh that did terrible things to Logan’s heart.
Goddammit.
***
“I’ll say we’re friends,” Andrew said as they approached the front door.
Logan snorted without looking at him. “I remember. You don’t have to keep repeating it.”
“I just—”
“Don’t worry, no one will suspect that you rode my dick all night,” Logan said, very dryly.
Flushing, Andrew hushed him, and just in time: the Rutledges’ butler opened the door.
Logan followed Andrew into the large house, keeping a step behind him as Andrew greeted the handsome blond—Shawn—and his husband, Derek.
He watched the exchange curiously. Andrew was trying to look confident and calm, but his discomfort was obvious, at least to Logan.
The Rutledge couple was a little more difficult to read. The older man’s face was stern and vaguely displeased, but his displeasure seemed directed at his own husband rather than at Andrew or Logan. It didn’t take a genius to guess that inviting Andrew had been Shawn’s idea and Derek didn’t entirely approve of it.
It didn’t seem to escape Andrew’s notice, either: his body language became stiffer.
Logan stepped closer, their shoulders briefly knocking together as he stretched his hand out for a handshake. “Logan McCall.”
The Rutledges shook his hand, eyeing him with some curiosity.
“Nice to meet you,” Shawn said with a smile. “Andrew didn’t tell me he was bringing a guest.” His expression was open and friendly. Not a hint of suspicion in his eyes, only amicability. It seemed Andrew’s fears were unfounded and Shawn hadn’t actually overheard anything. Logan smiled back but didn’t say anything.
Andrew shrugged. “My therapist recommended that we spend some time together to make the adjustment to our normal lives easier.”
Shawn’s brows knitted together but he just nodded, elbowing his husband discreetly when the latter remained silent.
“You’re welcome to stay for lunch, of course,” Derek said, glancing at his watch. “But I have my lawyer coming over, too.” He shot Shawn a flat look. “I hope you won’t be bored too much.”