13. Logan
Logan
“Ohmygod, yes,” Chase moans as I drop my keys on the counter and shed my jacket.
“It smells so fucking good in here.” He crosses to my kitchen and opens the trash can lid, peering inside.
I’m about to ask him what the hell he’s doing, but he inhales deeply and turns to me.
“You use those trash bags with Febreze in them, don’t you? ”
I nod with a smile.
Apparently, it’s the simple things for Chase.
“I fucking love you,” he teases, letting the trash can lid drop closed.
“Come on, I’ll show you where you can put your stuff.”
I lead him through my small condo, turning the lights on as I go.
“Don’t you own a single lamp?” he asks.
“Um, no? Why would I spend money on lamps when the condo has lights in the ceiling?”
“It’s about vibe, man. What happens when you bring a date back here and he gets so turned off by the overhead lights that you never even make it to first base?”
“After the way tonight went, I don’t think I have to worry about that,” I admit, turning the corner into the guest room and flipping on another overhead light to reveal a queen-sized bed with a blue plaid comforter, a nightstand, and a small chest of drawers.
Just like everything else, none of it matches.
I’m not even sure why I have a guest room.
I never have guests. It just seemed like the most adult use of this space since I don’t need an office, but I’m suddenly grateful I have it.
This whole move was supposed to be about making a change, which I had secretly hoped would include permanence and possibly a partner.
I’m tired of running, but old habits are hard to break.
When I bought this condo, I thought it would help me settle down, finally buy matching furniture, paint a wall or two. But I just can’t seem to find the motivation.
Chase quirks a brow at me.
“I thought gay guys were supposed to have good style.”
“That’s like saying every straight guy can find a clit,” I fire back.
“Hmm, valid point,” he agrees before adding, “But for the record, I know where it is.”
“Feel free not to share with the class,” I tease.
Chase drops his bag on the floor and says, “Do you mind if I grab a shower? I’m more than ready to be out of these scrubs.”
“Oh, yeah, sure. The guest bathroom is right next door. Help yourself. There should be towels under the sink,” I tell him as a smirk crosses his face. “What?” I ask.
“You’re so adulty.”
“Adulty?”
“Yeah. You have a guest room—even if it’s questionably furnished. You live by yourself. Manage your own shit.”
“That’s because I’m thirty-four years old,” I remind him, glad that my ruse of faking it until I make it is working on him.
“I mean, I’m twenty-six. As is Jackson, which is plenty old enough to know better, and he’s a mess, and I still rely on Mommy and Daddy’s money,” Chase says in a tone that makes me think he’s somehow disappointed in himself.
“You’ve chosen one of the hardest career paths in the world, Chase.
Give yourself some credit. Besides, at least you know how to change a trash bag, and just because I bought a condo doesn’t mean I’m good at being an adult,” I point out, nudging him into the bathroom.
“Go take your shower. I know you’re dying to crawl into bed. ”
Chase follows my instructions without arguing and closes the door.
I’m about to walk away once I hear the shower start, but the robotic ringtone of a video call catches my attention.
“Jesus, dude. Don’t you ever have clothes on? You can answer the call once you’ve found pants, you know.” Hanlon’s deep voice causes my shoulders to tense.
“You’re the one who always insists on a video chat instead of a normal phone call, Hanny Bananny,” Chase says with a laugh, his exhaustion seeming to have melted away at the call from his best friend.
“Well, excuse me for wanting to see my best friend’s face. Where are you?” Hanlon asks in a confused tone, obviously not recognizing my bathroom.
“Um, I’m actually at Logan’s.”
A pause, and then a voice I’ll always recognize fills the air.
“Logan? Like Logan Kirkland?” Stone chimes in.
“That’s the one,” Chase confirms.
“How the hell is he?” Stone asks. “I tried calling him a while back, but he didn’t answer.” Stone pauses and then says, “Or call me back.”
“Yeah, I passed the news along. There’s probably no need to reach out again,” Chase replies, obviously trying to save me from more heartache.
My back hits the wall, and I slide down until my ass is on the floor. Some part of me knows I shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but a bigger part of me doesn’t care. I want to hurt. I’ve wanted to hear Stone’s voice so badly, my chest aches for it.
“Well, I just wanted to call and tell you Merry Christmas,” Hanlon says.
Chase laughs.
“Christmas isn’t until next week, Han.”
“I knoooow. But I wanted to say it twice.”
“In other words, you’re drunk and feeling sentimental,” Chase teases lightheartedly.
“Maybe a little,” Hanlon agrees.
“Okay, well, Merry Christmas. Go celebrate with your fiancé. I’m just about to hop in the shower.”
“With Logan?!” Hanlon screeches.
“No, Hanny,” Chase confirms, but after a brief pause, he adds, “But he is pretty hot. Especially in that flight suit. Might have to consider my options.”
Hanlon and Stone yell Chase’s name in mock horror at the same time, but I hear Chase laugh, and the clink of his phone hitting the counter tells me he hung up on them.
The sound of him pulling back the shower curtain reminds me of his proximity and eases some of the pain caused by hearing Stone say my name.
I’m not alone tonight.
I manage to peel myself off the floor just as Chase finishes his shower, but that and changing into sweats and a T-shirt are the only things I accomplish in the fifteen minutes he was in there.
I’m now on the couch, scrolling through my streaming service, not really seeing anything, when a giant frame turns the corner into the living room.
In nothing but a towel.
Miles of skin covering mountains of muscle stare back at me.
That goddamn burgundy happy trail captures my attention and demands my entire focus.
“Thought I wasn’t your type,” Chase sasses, catching my eyes on him again.
“I thought you weren’t either.” My eyes widen as I realize what I just admitted and try to backtrack. “I mean, you’re not,” I correct with a shake of my head.
“Nope, no take-backs,” Chase says with a wicked gleam in his eyes and a matching grin.
I roll my eyes.
“Chase, you’re standing in my living room with water cascading down your giant chest in nothing but a gray towel that’s refusing to act decent.
Meanwhile, I’m gay and haven’t gotten laid in over two years.
So, yeah, if you’re gonna put it on display, then I’m gonna look, but it doesn’t mean anything,” I snap in frustration.
Chase’s brow furrows as though I’ve offended him. I’m about to apologize when he opens his mouth.
“You heard him, didn’t you?”
I nod once, not bothering to pretend like I don’t know who he’s talking about.
“Shit, Logan, I’m sorry,” Chase says, moving to sit next to me on the couch.
The towel is working overtime as it strains against his muscular thighs, and I know at any second, the flimsy knot at his waist is going to fail.
“The only reason I answered was that I thought the shower would drown out the sound of Hanlon’s voice. And I definitely didn’t expect—”
“Stone to literally be up his ass?” I scoff.
Chase smiles.
“Well, they were in public, so I don’t think he was literally in there. Not to mention, I’m pretty sure Han’s strictly a top.”
I groan and flop backward, wishing I could black out and wake up with amnesia.
“Okay, so fuck them. Right?” Chase says, pulling me back to an upright position. “They’re happy. Let them do their thing, and in the meantime, we’ll focus on getting you that happily ever after you deserve with someone who looks at you the way Stone looks at Hanlon.”
Keeping my eyes glued to the carpet in front of me, I ask, “How do you fall out of love with someone? I mean, it’s not like I can magically recreate the pull, the chemistry, the fuckin’ biology, that made me gravitate toward Stone in the first place.
It’s either there or it isn’t, and we don’t really get to choose when it shows up. ”
I feel the couch dip and suddenly, Chase’s big ass is straddling my hips. The towel might as well be on the floor.
“Chase! What the fuck?” I’m laughing too hard for it to sound angry.
“You want biology? Here it is,” he says, wiggling his hips, laughing just as hard as I am before growing serious again.
“I don’t believe in the notion that there’s this one person meant for each of us.
That’s absurd. We live in a world of eight billion people.
You have so many options, dude. You just have to decide that you’re ready to explore them. ”
I carefully plant my hands on Chase’s thighs and try to push him off me, but he doesn’t budge.
“Dude,” I choke out through laughter. “You weigh a literal fuck-ton. Get off.”
“I mean, I guess that would make me weigh slightly less.”
I stare at him in confusion, not following until I see his hand move toward his dick.
“Oh, hell no.” I stand abruptly, dumping him onto the floor.
Chase is on his back, his towel precariously covering his dick and not much else, laughing harder than I’ve ever seen someone laugh. It makes me laugh too until we’re both cracking up.
I think emotional overload paired with mental exhaustion has made us both lose our minds.
But when I go to bed half an hour later, it’s the first time in a long time that I fall straight to sleep.