Chapter 9
Kyle
Once again, being alone with Logan feels like getting that bit closer to a piece of candy I want to lick.
He doesn’t just look sexy, but exudes an intense erotic energy with every movement of his body.
There’s so much confidence in the way he sits on the gray sofa facing the kitchen that I keep getting distracted and have to stare at the potatoes I’m cutting to avoid chopping off my finger.
I share the house with my brother and the groomsmen, but most of my friends will only come over for the night of the party, so the place is not too rowdy or loud yet.
Built on the edge of a golf course, it has five bedrooms and could be a functional family home if it weren’t for the generic decor.
For now, this is my place and I’m entertaining an important guest.
The steaks have been out of the fridge for twenty minutes at this point, so I throw the cut potatoes in boiling water, put heat under a dry pan, and season the meat while Logan watches Jekyll munch on a bone.
My boy is good about not going into the kitchen uninvited, because I would hate for him to get sprayed by hot oil.
“I hope you like thyme and garlic, because those are the only fresh seasonings I have,” I say and place the tomato salad I made earlier on the coffee table in front of Logan.
He raises his eyebrows. “You seem to know what you’re doing.”
The kind-of-almost compliment gives me butterflies, and I meet his gaze, feeling all soft on the inside.
He’s so majestic in pale jeans and a green shirt with rolled-up sleeves.
It’s unbuttoned just enough to expose his throat and a bit of chest hair, and the longer I look at him, the more I want to treat him to the best meal he’s ever had.
“I enjoy cooking. My dad died when I was just a kid, so Mom was working a lot. My siblings and I had to do lots of household chores because of that. And once I realized I don’t want to eat mediocre food, it was easy enough to learn from the internet.”
“Oh. I’m sorry about your dad.” His body language softens a little and he leans back on the sofa. The way he follows my every move though, is no less unnerving than before.
I shrug, and as I walk back to the kitchen, I can’t shake off the feeling he is watching me with the same kind of hunger I ogle him with. “That’s okay. I don’t remember him well, you know. I think Jude and Olivia miss him much more, because they actually got to know him.”
The pan’s smoking, so I quickly pour in some oil, and then place both steaks in, smiling at the pleasant sizzle they make.
I hear Logan’s footsteps and imagine him coming into the kitchen to hug me from behind as I’m cooking. I’m such a sap.
He stands nearby and watches the pan. “Jude’s got some interesting ideas about gay men. Did you share them?”
I swallow and wash my hands as my stomach drops. “We never really had a reason to discuss such things.”
“Because it was obvious to him his little baby brother couldn’t be gay?”
The open way he speaks about these things is so overwhelming I don’t know what to do with myself, but at least in the kitchen, I can keep my hands busy.
“Yeah. He always thinks he knows better. Mom’s just as confident as him. It wasn’t really something I needed to share with them,” I say, watching the meat sear.
“So you did know?” Logan leans against the counter and folds his arms on his chest. He looks so good in the warm light of the kitchen, like this could be our kitchen, and it feels so intimate to talk to him here.
My mouth dries, because I know exactly what he's asking. “I mean… Girls are nice and pretty. But I knew I also liked guys. I tested myself looking at pictures online, but Mom found out, and um—” I stall as my tongue stiffens. “She didn’t like it.”
Understatement of the century.
Logan cocks his head at me. “What do you mean? What did she do?”
I flip the steaks, struggling to keep my expression neutral, because it was one of the most traumatic evenings in my life.
Seven years have passed since, but I don’t think I can look back at that day with anything but sorrow.
“Well, you know... there was a lot of shouting involved. I’m happy Jude and Olivia were not in.
I told her I also like girls, and she seemed relieved.
We had this long chat about my future, and I decided I should just keep my hands off men. ”
Logan grabs himself a grape from the basket of fruit on the counter and pops it in his mouth. “So why didn’t you?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before adding “How’s the sex with Madison?”
My hands shake, but I sear the sides of the steaks as dark spots congregate at the edge of my vision. “It’s... I mean it’s sex, right? It feels good. Why do you need to know?”
Please, don’t ask me how it compares to sex with you, I beg deep inside. Because there’s no comparison. It’s like trying to weigh buttered toast against a juicy hog roast with all the trimmings. They’re both good in their own way, but it’s very clear one tastes better than the other.
Logan shakes his head. “You might think I’m being a shit to you, and for the record, you deserve it, but I’m trying to save you from a very bad decision. You could hardly name things you love about Madison today.”
I clear my throat and leave the steaks to crush an unpeeled clove of garlic.
I toss it into the pan, along with sprigs of thyme brought from my herb garden, and proceed to cut some butter as the air becomes fragrant.
“I will get to know her better once we move in together. It’s only been a year. Also, you just caught me off guard.”
“Did I now? So you’re set on this wedding?”
In the most surreal move I couldn’t have anticipated, Logan steps closer and slides his hand into the back pocket of my jeans. I grab the edge of the counter as I drop the knife. His touch is like aromatic syrup poured over my tongue, and I can’t resist it.
“Logan, I want a family. And Madison’s libido’s… not that big. We’re gonna be just fine as a couple,” I say, though I’m not sure if I’m not saying this to convince myself that I’m not the bad guy. The butter goes into the pan, and I watch it melt, trying to ignore the hot presence at my back.
My cock is already getting slightly hard.
He groans and backs off, making me want to follow his hand. He is the most intoxicating man I’ve ever met. “Do you want a family, or do you want a wife pregnant with your baby? Because you can have a family with a man. Sure, it’s harder, but not impossible.”
“Really? How many happy gay couples with children do you know?” I ask, and baste the steaks with melted butter, glad it gives me something to do with my hands, because I’m overheating with the implications of his arguments. I’ve thought about it for many years, and now he’s throwing me a curveball.
His silence gives me bitter vindication.
“One,” he says in the end. “But it’s not like straight relationships are a bed of roses.”
“I know they aren’t. Relationships are hard work, and I was never afraid of that.
I know that on TV gay people have kids all the time, but the reality is that it’s not something that will just naturally happen.
There’s a lot of hurdles on the way, and I just want someone who will be mine, and who wants a family. ”
I let go of the steak and shake my hands to curb their trembling, but he’s still staring, still questioning my choices, so I go on.
“I was angry when Mom told me I can only find what I want with a woman. But she’s right.
I can’t chase something that’s impossible, just because it feels good.
And don’t judge me, because you also tried to get married.
Maybe I’ll have more luck.” So it’s a bit harsh, but I’m on edge.
Instead of lashing out, Logan… chuckles. “Kyle. I’m bisexual. I can go either way and be perfectly happy with that decision.”
I feel hollow.
Our interactions have so far convinced me we’re the same, and that he can understand where I’m coming from, but looks like that is not the case.
I put the steaks on plates, along with the potatoes I crush with butter while he watches. “Then you don’t know what it’s like,” I say and hand him his meal.
Because I am not like him, and every moment in Logan’s company makes it abundantly clear. I crave him in a way I never desired any woman.
Even watching him smell the steak with reverence can’t bring me joy.
As soon as we walk out of the kitchen, Jekyll runs up to me and presses his nose to my knee, then follows us to the small table in the living room.
“You can’t force something that’s not there. I don’t want to bang every man or woman I meet, so I can imagine what it’s like.”
“But you wanted to hook up with me,” I mutter as I drop into the chair. He looks up just as I focus on my meal, knowing I shouldn’t have said that. It’s irrelevant. Still, the worries that crept up on me at the sushi and sake event come back with a vengeance. “How did you know I was like that?”
He doesn’t even sit opposite me. No, he has to rest at the edge of the table, so our knees brush. “Of course I wanted you. You do own a mirror, right? You’re just my type. But I didn’t know if I had a chance until we started talking. And then I tried my luck. I felt we had that… spark.”
All I can hear is that I’m his type, and I struggle to breathe before my next question. “So it’s not… obvious to everyone around me? That I’m not straight, I mean.”
Logan snorts and cuts into the steak, letting the juices melt with the butter as they drip out. “No, it’s not. But the right guy can sense a delicious piece of… meat.” He bites into the steak, frowns, and his eyes widen. “Oh, fuck. This is… this is really good.”
A little drop of joy in a murky ocean, but it still makes me smile as I cut into my own steak. “I wasn’t lying or boasting when I said I can cook,” I say and hold a bit of meat up. Jekyll sits and gently takes it from my fingers. He’s such a good, good boy.
“Okay, I’m gonna ask you this then. My last shot to make you to reconsider.
Say you’re set on marrying a woman. Are you really sure the woman you want to marry is Madison?
” he asks between one bite and another, and while the words aren’t easy to swallow, it’s a pleasure to see him eat with such enthusiasm.
I don’t know. And the weight of that fact sits like lead in the middle of my chest.
“The wedding’s tomorrow,” I mumble. “It’s a done deal.”
Logan nudges my knee. “Hey, you’re still a dickbag for cheating on her, but I’ll tell you this, you’re not doing her the favor you think you are by going through with it.
And I say that, because I have the hindsight.
It’s better for us both that Kayla didn’t marry me.
So maybe I’m a bitter bachelor filled with resentment, and she’s divorced, but at least we didn’t make each other miserable. ”
He’s so close I feel myself gravitating toward him, as if an invisible force is pushing us together. Our knees meet first, sending a jolt through my body. And then I’m leaning in until I kiss the corner of his lips.
Oh, his stubble is so very delicious. I want to feel it all over my body.
Logan pulls away, but not as abruptly as last time. “I’m not your answer, Kyle. This isn’t fair on Madison. What are you trying to do here? Get one last fuck?”
I get up and move away from the table to gather my thoughts, because the truth is that I’m barely thinking at all. “No. I—I don’t know. It feels like my life is crumbling all around me. How can I make those kinds of decisions so late? Based on what?”
Jekyll whines and licks my hand. I give his ear a gentle pull, but it doesn’t get me the peace I need.
“Based on how you’re feeling. What else makes people get married? You either feel it in your gut, or you don’t.” He’s done with the food and sets down his cutlery but I don’t want him to leave just yet.
“Dessert?” I ask even though my steak’s almost untouched. But I’m in a growing state of panic, and I don’t know how to rein in my emotions.
Logan gets up, and I love how big he is. I’m not a small guy but he still has a few inches on me, and I remember how strong he is, how he picked me up.
He slides his fingers to my jaw and leans in for a kiss that pulls on my dick.
“I think we both know it’s not dessert you want,” Logan says from half an inch away. “But I’m not a home wrecker.”
There’s nothing left to say, and I face away from him, entwining my hands on my nape as my whole body pulses with longing. “Thanks for talking to me.”
“See you tomorrow, that was one amazing steak,” he says and doesn’t wait around for an answer.
His footsteps resonate through the room, then I hear the click of the door, and he’s gone.