* * *

Logan looked across the room to the man he thought he’d lost and said exactly what he was feeling.

“I love you.”

Tate didn’t move except to smile as he replied, “I love you too.”

Logan had never believed words more as they lingered between them.

The only thing he still needed to know was if Tate accepted them as a couple—together. If, when it really came down to being out in public, being associated with him as his other half, Tate was ready for that.

Would he ever be?

Logan wondered the best way to approach his concern and stated softly, “A lot happened this past week, and a lot was said. I need to know what you mean when you say those words to me, Tate. And if it’s the same as what I mean.”

Tate looked at him over his knees and then frowned. “I don’t understand. I told you how I feel.”

“I know.”

“Then what are you talking about? Do you still not believe me?”

“No, that’s not it.”

“Then what? Because that’s what it sounds like.”

Logan raised his glass and finished his drink before placing it down on the side table. “It’s easy to say words, but sometimes following them through is harder. That’s all.”

“Are you serious right now?” Tate demanded, quickly getting to his feet. “I’m pretty sure I followed through, Logan.”

Logan could tell he’d once again said the wrong thing, and he scrambled to get it right. “Don’t be mad. I’m saying this all wrong.”

“Then start saying it right.” Tate glared at him.

Logan scooted forward on the seat. “Please sit back down,” he implored.

Tate took a seat, this time on the couch, and waited.

Shit. This is not how I imagined telling him. Not while he’s pissed off at me.

But then again, when it came to spilling his guts, he was fantastic at putting his foot in his mouth. Around Tate, he seemed like a fucking professional.

“I want to tell you something about me. The reason I don’t…didn’t date up until now.” He swallowed and looked Tate in the eye. “Until you.”

Tate remained silent, and then he finally uncrossed his arms. “I thought it was because of Chris.”

“It was…”

As his voice trailed off, Tate said quietly, “So tell me then.”

Thinking about it and actually saying it were totally different. So he decided why not start with the biggest shock first.

“I didn’t just date Chris in college.”

Tate didn’t say anything, just sat staring at him as if he hadn’t even spoken.

“I also dated him for two years once I was out.”

That got a response.

“Wait. What? I thought you two ended things after Cole kicked his ass.”

Logan raised a shaky hand and rubbed his fingers across his lips. He’d never told anyone what he was about to say. Not even Cole.

“We did end our relationship in college. After months of spending all my spare time with him, thinking we had something real, it ended rather publicly in his dorm hall by him punching me in the face. He pretty much told me to fuck off, and luckily for me, Cole happened to see and broke it up.”

Tate tilted his head to the side, confused. “Right, and then you said you slept with all his girlfriends.”

Did I? Shit. He didn’t even remember telling Tate that part.

“Yeah, I kind of made it my mission to prove I was better off without him.” He laughed self-deprecatingly. “Guess I really failed making that point.”

“You’re telling me that you started dating again, out of college? When? Where did you even see him?” Tate paused and then asked, “Is he a lawyer too?”

Logan shook his head.

Fuck. He really didn’t want to get into all of this, but he knew it needed to be said.

“I ran into him at a club.”

“A club? Like a dance club?”

“No,” he said, keeping his voice calm as he explained, “A sex club.”

Tate’s eyebrows nearly hit the top of his hairline as his jaw fell open.

“It was my first time there. And my last. I was young and heard about this private club that had the most beautiful men who would do whatever you wanted—if you paid the price. I was curious and…I had the money.”

“So that’s what you spent it on?”

“Hey. It was one time, and I didn’t actually do anything because I walked in the door, saw him in the foyer, and turned around to get the hell out of there.”

Tate looked as if he were trying to catch up. “Then how—”

“He recognized me.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “He followed me outside and caught up to me.”

“Did he look the same?” Tate asked as if he didn’t really want to know but couldn’t help himself.

He wasn’t about to lie, so he answered honestly. “He looked better.”

“Of course he did,” Tate mumbled.

Logan waited until Tate turned to him, and then he gave a half smile. “You’re a million times sexier than he could ever hope to be.”

Tate rolled his eyes. “Keep going.”

Logan smirked and then got back on track.

“At first, he was”—he thought back to that night and could clearly remember the panic on Chris’s face—“freaked out. It was gay night at the club, and he didn’t think he’d run into anyone he knew due to the high price tag. The last fucking person I’m sure he expected to see was me.”

“So what’d he do?” Tate asked, seeming genuinely curious.

“He asked me what I was doing there. I told him I was there to fuck as many guys as I could for the price of admission. Then he grabbed my shirt, pulled me close, and whispered in my ear—” Logan stopped.

“What?” Tate demanded, pulling him from the past. “What did he say to you, Logan?”

Logan blinked away the memory and focused again on the man encouraging him to open up and trust him.

“He whispered, ‘Pity you already paid. I would’ve fucked you for free.’”

Tate’s eyes widened. He stood and started pacing the length of the living room before stopping in front of the fireplace and reaching out to put a hand on the stone mantel. He then turned to face Logan where he was still seated.

“I really hate this fucker.”

I do too.

“Just finish the story, would you? So I never have to hear it again.”

Logan stood, walked over to where Tate was standing, and did as requested.

“I loved the fact that he wanted me again, and even though I knew I shouldn’t, I wanted him too. So I let him fuck me behind the club that night, and I loved it. It wasn’t gentle. It was brutal and hard, and a small part of me believed I deserved it since I was the sick fuck who was still hard for a guy who’d used me. But that wasn’t the end of it. He took me back to his house and spent the entire night inside me. He told me how much he’d missed me. How he regretted what happened back then and the way he’d treated me. That maybe this was a sign, a second chance—I was stupid enough to believe him.” Logan paused and shook his head. “For the next two years, I was at his beck and call. In private, he was everything I wanted, just like when we were in school. He was attentive, smart, and funny, but just like in college, he made sure to keep me a secret and made me very aware that if I told anyone, it would be over. So no one knew I was seeing him. I wasn’t allowed to call him ever, and I knew nothing about him other than what he told me. When Cole asked who I was seeing, I would lie and tell him no one. Because that’s what Chris wanted, what he asked of me—if I loved him.”

Tate finally turned his head to face him, and Logan could see the question in his eyes.

“Did you love him?”

He’d asked himself that question many times, and all he could come up with was, “When it came to Chris, I was weak, and he knew it. He was my first, and he knew exactly what buttons to push to get to me. I was a fucking hazard to myself back then. You wouldn’t have even recognized me.”