Just a Bit Wrecked Read online

  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.”

  His husband just smiled innocently.

  Logan suppressed a laugh. The couple was rather unconventional, but they seemed to suit each other. The affection, the warmth between them was real.

  Watching them made him feel a little wistful.

  He glanced at Andrew and quickly looked away, irritated with himself. Sometimes he hated his own brain.

  “I’d actually like to be present at the meeting if it’s about the company,” Andrew said.

  His tone sounded confident—sounded being the key word. Logan wasn’t sure what it said about him that he could pick up the smallest shift in Andrew’s voice, and could tell without even looking that Andrew wasn’t actually as confident as he was trying to sound.

  Derek gave a clipped nod just as the doorbell rang.

  The lawyer was a handsome, well-dressed man with sharp gray eyes. He exchanged polite greetings with the Rutledges before turning to Andrew. “Andrew!” he said, his familiar tone making it obvious that he and Andrew were already well acquainted. “It’s so good to see you—good to know that all those rumors were wrong.”

  “What rumors, Colt?” Andrew said, smiling neutrally. He had his arms crossed over his chest.

  The lawyer made a face and clapped him on the shoulder, completely failing to notice Andrew’s clear discomfort—or choosing to ignore it. “You’ve barely been seen since your return, practically turned into a hermit, and the usual people are talking. You know how it is.”

  Andrew’s lips curled. “I know.”

  Colt’s eyes shifted to Logan and lit up. He smiled and shook Logan’s hand. “Oh, there’s no need to introduce yourself—of course I recognize you, Mr. McCall.”

  “Logan is fine,” he said curtly.

  The guy’s smile widened. “Then you should call me Colin,” he said, his voice dropping slightly. “Colt is the nickname Vivian gave me.”

  Logan eyed him impassively. Colin was clearly interested in men, if the subtle once-over he gave Logan was any indication. The guy wasn’t unattractive. He was possibly even more handsome than Andrew was. And yet, Logan didn’t feel even a flicker of interest. Nothing. Not lust, not desire, not even mild appreciation. It was… concerning.

  “You were friends with Andrew’s wife?” he said politely.

  “I was,” Colin said, sighing. His gaze remained on Logan, however. “Such a tragedy. She was so young.”

  Andrew cleared his throat, touching Logan’s arm. “Colin is—was Vivian’s childhood friend,” he said, gripping Logan’s bicep a little too hard.

  “Indeed,” Colin said, his gaze flicking to Andrew’s hand on Logan’s arm. “I see you two became friends on that dreadful island… I have to say I’m surprised.”

  “Why?” Andrew said tersely.

  Colin shrugged. “I thought you would be sick of each other by now.” He smiled amicably at Andrew. “No offense, buddy, but we all know you can be a little… exhausting.”

  Andrew’s face went utterly blank.

  Logan had to suppress the ridiculous urge to pull Andrew close. Friends. They were here as friends, nothing more. Because they weren’t more, dammit. Andrew didn’t need him to act like a protective boyfriend.

  “He’s no more exhausting than you and me,” Logan still found himself saying, though he kept his voice neutral.

  Frowning, Colin looked sharply at Logan, then at Andrew, whose face no longer looked like a wooden mask. Andrew glanced at Logan and then quickly averted his gaze.

  The tips of his ears were red.

  Shawn coughed slightly. “The food is ready. Shall we?”

  ***

  Logan had thought he would be bored. He had thought he would be forced to make some small talk with Shawn while Derek, Colin, and Andrew talked business. And in some way, he really was bored: most of the stuff they were discussing flew right over his head, because they were referencing people he didn’t know and legal terms that barely made sense out of context. But neither Andrew nor Colin seemed willing to leave him out of the strange pissing contest they had going, their biting remarks becoming progressively less subtle and progressively unprofessional the longer the meal lasted.

  Even Derek was frowning now, his dark eyes flicking from Andrew to Colin in a sharp, assessing manner.

  Logan was sipping his coffee and trying to pretend Andrew wasn’t half in his lap. The more heated the discussion became, the closer to him Andrew seemed to gravitate. Their chairs had been a good few inches apart at the beginning of the meal, but now they were so close their thighs were pressed together. When Andrew got particularly nervous or angry, he hooked their ankles together, almost painfully so—all the while not looking at Logan at all.

  Talk about mixed messages.

  “…No, going public with this would be a bad move,” Andrew was saying, glaring at Colin. “Are you an idiot? Caldwell did nothing wrong, technically, and even if we argue that Derek signed the contract under false pretenses, Derek did publicly dump Caldwell’s sister, causing her to attempt suicide, so reminding of it will be bad publicity for us. Not to mention that Caldwell is a man who just woke up from a coma. You don’t start a media war with a sick man! That’s a bad look.”

  Colin didn’t even bother hiding his condescending sneer. “We don’t have to make it public. We can talk to him and pressure him into withdrawing. I’m sure he cares about his business reputation. He wouldn’t want to be known as someone who makes underhanded deals.”

  Andrew laughed. “So you’re suggesting we threaten him? That’s your professional advice? And you call yourself a lawyer? Ian Caldwell isn’t exactly a man you threaten.”

  Colin flushed and opened his mouth, but whatever he was going to say was cut off by a cold, “Enough.”

  Everyone’s gaze turned to their host.

  Derek Rutledge’s expression was rather sour as he pinned Andrew with a hard look. “What are you suggesting, then?”

  Andrew’s hand gripped Logan’s knee under the table, but outwardly, his face was calm and confident. “I’m suggesting you talk to him.”

  “Talk to him,” Derek repeated flatly.

  Andrew let out a laugh. “I know: a wild concept, isn’t it? Talk to him and apologize. Have you even tried?”

  Derek’s jaw clenched. “I have nothing to apologize for. If my actions caused harm, it wasn’t intentional. The engagement wasn’t my idea.”

  “Then tell him that,” Andrew said. “Explain to him what really happened. What do you have to lose? Caldwell has some
thing of a temper, but he isn’t unreasonable. All of this seems like a case of a misunderstanding.”

  “I agree,” Shawn said. “Maybe it’s worth a try, Derek. If Miles is in love with the guy, surely he can’t be that bad.”

  Derek’s expression was rather pinched, but he didn’t outright refuse. “I’ll think about it,” he said tersely, getting to his feet. Everyone followed suit.

  Andrew’s goodbyes to the Rutledges were rather stiff. He said nothing to Colin and strode out of the house without waiting for Logan to finish thanking the Rutledges for their hospitality.

  But the moment Logan shut the front door behind him, he was yanked to the side, shoved against the wall, and suddenly had Andrew trying to tuck himself under his chin, breathing oddly. Hyperventilating.

  It took Logan a moment to recover from his surprise.

  Then, he wrapped his arms around him, and Andrew made a small sound—something pained but relieved too. Lips pressed against the hollow of Logan’s throat. “Sorry,” Andrew murmured into his neck. “It was just—it was hard for me to be around them, especially Colin. I know they all wish Vivian were here instead of me.”

  Logan frowned. “I’m sure they don’t.”

  Andrew let out a humorless laugh. “Right. Did you see the way Colin looked at me? I’m sure he blames me for not saving her.”

  “Colin… What’s the story there?” Logan said, threading his fingers through Andrew’s curls.

  Andrew sighed, stroking Logan’s chest absentmindedly. “He was basically Vivian’s childhood sweetheart. They were apparently on something of a break when I first met him. He made a move on me at a corporate party—he’s bi—and I might have been… a little rude when I said I wasn’t interested in men.”

  Logan could imagine it all too well. “And then what?”

  “Well, he didn’t take it well.” Andrew pulled back a little, running a hand over his eyes. “A month later, Vivian and I started seeing each other, and imagine my surprise when she introduced me to her best friend-slash-ex. It was a little awkward, to say the least. For multiple reasons.”

  Logan knew he probably shouldn’t have laughed, but it was funny, especially the face Andrew was pulling.

  “Ha-fucking-ha,” Andrew deadpanned, but the corners of his mouth twitched, and then he was laughing, too.

  And Logan stared.

  He had never seen Andrew laugh. Not like this: with pure mirth on his face, his eyes bright and soft, and his smile blinding.

  He was beautiful.

  It was the first time he thought of Andrew as beautiful. Handsome, hot, attractive, lovely—yes, but never beautiful. Beauty came from within; it wasn’t just a physical attribute.

  But fuck, he was beautiful, all laughing eyes, wild curls, and cherry red lips.

  And Logan loved him.

  He loved him.

  “What?” Andrew said, smiling. “Why are you looking at me that way?”

  Later. He could freak out later.

  “No reason,” Logan said hoarsely, pulling Andrew closer and kissing him.

  Andrew’s lips parted for his tongue immediately, and the world around them faded away—until the slam of the door made them flinch and break the kiss.

  Logan turned his head and found himself looking at Colin’s sneering face.

  “Not a homo, huh?” Colin said, glaring at Andrew. “You didn’t waste time after Vivian’s death.”

  Andrew jumped away from Logan as though he’d been burned. “I—It isn’t what it looks like!”

  Logan suddenly felt cold, and it had little to do with the chilly November weather.

  Colin scoffed and stalked toward his car. He slammed its door hard and took off, leaving a deafening silence in his wake.

  It isn’t what it looks like.

  Logan bit the inside of his cheek so hard he tasted blood.

  It shouldn’t have hurt.

  It shouldn’t have mattered.

  It wasn’t like he hadn’t known that Andrew would never want people to find out about them. He’d known. He’d always known he shouldn’t allow himself to get attached to a “straight” guy. He’d known it would only lead to heartbreak if he was stupid enough to fall for Andrew. He’d known.

  Idiot. He was an idiot.

  “All right, I can’t do it,” he said without looking at Andrew.

  “Do what?”

  Logan suddenly craved a cigarette. It’d been years since he’d quit, but he’d never wanted to smoke this badly.

  He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Us,” he said.

  “I… I don’t understand.” Andrew’s voice was so small that Logan had to stop himself from looking at him. Looking at him would be a terrible fucking idea. He was weak. He could never say no whenever Andrew looked at him in that particular way, his eyes wide and lips trembling.

  “I’ve been out for nearly twenty years, Drew,” he said quietly, looking at his car. “I’m not going back into the closet for you—for anyone. I’m not going to be your dirty little secret and live a lie while you act like we’re nothing to each other in public. I’m too damn old for this shit.”

  There was only silence in response, heavy and tense.

  Sighing, Logan headed to his car.

  He didn’t get far: Andrew’s hand grabbed his arm. “But the therapist said—”

  “I know,” Logan said, his back to him. Andrew’s touch seemed to be burning him even through the layers of fabric. He wanted to turn around and take him into his arms. He wanted to look into Andrew’s eyes and allow himself to feel things he had no business feeling, not for this man. “And I’m sorry. I know it’s hard for you. It’s hard for me, too. I thought I could do this, but I was wrong. We’ll only be making a bigger mistake if we continue living in each other’s pockets.” He ran a hand over his face, his voice dropping. “I can’t do it, okay? I’m not a goddamn robot, Drew.”

  “But…” Andrew whispered, his voice barely audible. “But I need you.”

  Logan’s chest hurt. “I need you, too,” he admitted. “But needing isn’t enough. Need and want are different things, and you don’t want this.” You don’t want me.

  “And you do?” Andrew said, his grip on Logan’s arm still unrelenting, almost painful.

  I shouldn’t.

  Logan’s throat felt raw. He knew it was goodbye, and part of him, the part that still considered this man an extension of himself, actively rebelled against the idea, refusing to accept it.

  But he knew it was the right decision. The only correct decision. Andrew wasn’t going to suddenly accept that he was interested in men—that the island had been more than just an unhealthy phase. He would always consider his feelings for Logan as something that needed to be cured. He would never agree to be in a gay relationship openly, and that would effectively force Logan back into the closet. Then there would be mutual resentment and anger, which would eventually turn their already less-than-conventional relationship into a toxic one. There was only one ending to their relationship, and it wasn’t a happy one.

  This, whatever it was between them, wasn’t sustainable. It was better to end it now while his heart wasn’t completely wrecked. It was better to end it before it was too late.

  It might already be too late, a voice said at the back of his mind.

  Logan ignored it. It was his heart talking. He didn’t trust it, not anymore.

  A clean break. They needed a clean break. And for that, he needed to push Andrew away. He needed to do something to stop Andrew from continuing to reach out to him. Something that would be impossible to mend. A definitive end.

  “I don’t, either,” Logan said roughly. “I’m too old to get hung up on straight, closeted guys again. Been there, done that. Too much of a mess to bother with.”

  Andrew’s grip on his arm slackened. And then it was gone.

  Logan headed to his car, his heart heavy and his stomach in hard knots.

  He got into the car and started the engine. He drove away,
barely seeing in front of him.

  He told himself he’d done the right thing.

  He knew he’d done the right thing.

  It did nothing to alleviate the hollow feeling in his chest.

  Turn back, a voice at the back of his mind said insistently. Grab him and shackle him to you if you need to. Brand your name on him. He’s yours. Yours yours yours.

  Setting his jaw, Logan shoved those thoughts away. Andrew had never been his. He couldn’t lose something he’d never really had. He couldn’t deny that part of him had expected—hoped—that Andrew would finally say that he wanted him and ask him to stay. But Andrew hadn’t.

  If you love something, let it go. If it comes back, it’s yours. If it doesn’t, it never was.

  Logan’s lips curled into a humorless smile. Such a trite expression. Until now, he’d never understood it.

  Chapter 22

  Sometimes Shawn really hated having to act as a mediator. Be the patient one. The reasonable one.

  Softening Derek’s hard edges hadn’t become any easier in the six years they’d been together. Though, he wasn’t being entirely fair: Derek had mellowed out, somewhat. He wasn’t the insufferable, bossy asshole he had once been—most of the time. The problem was, there were still times Derek relapsed to his old ways and the arrogant dick Shawn had fallen in love with all those years ago was back, to Shawn’s fond aggravation. God, he loved this man, but there were still times Derek’s behavior made him roll his eyes, sigh, and just shake his head.

  Case in point: Andrew, and Derek’s unwillingness to ask for his help.

  “Pride is a sin, you know,” Shawn murmured, his head on Derek’s shoulder. He might have been annoyed with his husband right now, but he still wanted to cuddle up to him.

  To his credit, Derek didn’t pretend not to understand him. “Is it? Being a sinner doesn’t bother me.” His eyes remained on his tablet, his hand stroking Shawn’s arm absentmindedly. It had no right to feel so good.

  “You need his help,” Shawn pressed, trying to focus on the conversation instead of the pleasant feeling spreading through his body from Derek’s touch. “Now that Caldwell is back from England, it’s time to finally bury the hatchet. For Miles’s sake. You know the poor guy feels caught between us.”