Seth had gone quiet, although it wasn’t awkward. It was weirdly nice, sitting on the big couch and listening to the hum of the flickering fire.
“I need to—” Seth cut himself off, taking another swallow of scotch and swirling the ice in his glass. “It’s ridiculous.”
“Uh… What is?”
“Oh, sorry. My brain won’t shut its trap, and I’m used to talking to myself.”
“About what?”
“Everything. Oh, you mean now?” He chuckled and rubbed his face, his five o’clock shadow making a scratchy sound against his palm.
“You don’t have to tell me.” Although Logan was strangely eager. “Unless you want.”
“Maybe it’ll do me good to get some advice.”
“I dunno if I’m any good at that. That’s Jenna’s department.”
Seth swirled the ice in his glass, smiling. “Whether we like it or not.”
“Heh, yeah.” Normally Logan would bristle at the slightest criticism of Jenna, but Seth’s smile was nice. What was the word? Affectionate. “Well, go ahead if you want my dumbass advice.”
After frowning, Seth said, “I came out to my family twelve years ago because I couldn’t hide anymore. I couldn’t pretend Brandon was just my roommate and that I hadn’t met the right girl yet. I hated lying so much.”
He stared toward the TV, but his eyes were unfocused. “The lying started to feel more sinful than being gay. And here I am, over a decade later, and I still feel guilty for wanting to…” He sighed. “You know.”
Logan frowned. “Huh?”
“Uh, physical needs.”
“Are you talking about getting laid?”
Seth looked at him and laughed. “Yes, I am. I can’t even say it. It’s not that I don’t like…sex. I do! Very much.”
“Okay.” Logan swirled his own ice cubes and watched Seth from the corner of his eye. Seth was wearing slacks and a dress shirt. He’d removed his tie, rolled up the sleeves to his elbows, and slouched a bit, his legs parted.
Logan thought about how firm Seth’s ass had felt the day before when they’d gotten cozy for the asshole ex, and now he was thinking about Seth having sex. With another man. Not just hand jobs or hard screws with a nod and thanks after. But full-on sex with kissing and all that. Real sex.
It was weird. Also weirdly hot.
Getting off with men had never been about that for Logan—about hotness or whatever. Not the way it was with women and how beautiful they were, how sexy. He couldn’t remember thinking of a guy as sexy.
He glanced at Seth and the sprawl of his legs, and the way his shirt was unbuttoned at the top exposing his throat.
Until now, apparently.
Gulping his scotch, Logan stared at the TV and some replay of a hard tackle. Seth was quiet again, so maybe he’d drop it and—
“I loved Brandon, and he loved me. Until he didn’t.” Seth shook his head like he was still in shock, a little smile tugging on his mouth. “And since finally seeing him again, I’ve realized I truly don’t love him anymore. That I’m not in love with him. Which is good.”
Logan nodded, trying not to stare at Seth’s full lips. “It is.” That asswipe didn’t deserve Seth.
“I dated a few guys before him, but nothing serious. I never…” He flushed light red, shifting and tapping his fingers on his glass. “I didn’t do much at all with the other men. I felt like I should be in love. You know—to—to have sex.”
Logan tried not to gape. “Why?”
Huffing out a laugh, Seth rolled his eyes. “I know. It’s stupid. But it was drummed into me at church and at home. That sex was only for marriage. Since Brandon and I couldn’t get married back then, I made this…deal, I guess. With myself. With God. I needed it to be an expression of love, and then I was allowed.”
“Religions sure fuck up a lot of people. Uh, no offense.”
Seth laughed, tipping his head back for a moment, showing his long throat. “None taken, I assure you. It really is ridiculous, the knots I’ve tied myself in all these years. Why should I feel guilty for, for…getting laid?” He said it like they were cuss words.
“You shouldn’t.”
“No, I shouldn’t! I’m a grown man. I can do what I please.” Seth was fidgety now, all worked up. Logan imagined Seth’s cheeks would feel warm to the touch.
Logan frowned. “Are you drunk?”
“No!” He laughed again. “A little tipsy, maybe. It’s nice. I’m tired of being miserable and alone. Why am I punishing myself by being celibate? Why do I think if no one loves me I don’t deserve sex? It’s not a sin to have sex if there’s no love. Is it?”
“Definitely not. All that sin crap is bullshit.”
“It is, isn’t it? Why should I sit around here waiting for…what, exactly? Prince Charming? Mr. Right?”
“Are you telling me you haven’t gotten your rocks off in over a year?”