Logan snorted a laugh. “Of course not. You just like having your mouth fucked. With a cock.”
The withering look Andrew shot him could have set someone on fire. “You’re not funny.”
“I’m not trying to be,” Logan said, heading to the ensuite. He needed a shower.
By the time he returned, clad only in a towel wrapped around his hips, a maid was setting down a tray with breakfast on the table.
She started when she saw Logan, her eyes shooting from him to Andrew, whose face was red again.
“Good morning, Mr. McCall,” she said cheerfully, as if there was nothing strange about the situation.
“Good morning,” Logan said. “There are no bathrobes in the bathroom. Make sure that’s corrected.”
The maid flushed. “Of course, Mr. McCall. The only reason we didn’t bring them in was because there was a ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door since Mr. Reyes moved in.”
Logan nodded. He didn’t bother saying that they should have brought a bathrobe before a new guest checked into the room; making her flustered would accomplish nothing. But he’d have to talk to the manager about this.
Andrew threw him a t-shirt. Logan caught it and slipped into it. It was a little tight around his chest and shoulders but nothing too uncomfortable.
“You may go, Jane,” he said, glancing at the maid when he realized that she was still there. “Have someone bring me clothes from my suite.”
She nodded and quickly left.
Logan sat down at the table and poured them both coffee. “Sit. Eat.”
Andrew scowled but did as he was told. He nibbled the food at first before suddenly attacking it ravenously, as if only now realizing how hungry he was. Christ, it seemed he hadn’t eaten in days. He certainly looked it.
Logan watched him eat, trying to place the strange feeling that curled in his gut. It wasn’t unfamiliar. It took him a moment to recognize it. It was similar to the primitive satisfaction he derived from watching Andrew enjoy the food he cooked. He liked feeding Andrew. Providing for him.
Cringing on the inside, Logan looked away and focused on his own food.
They ate in silence. It should have probably been uncomfortable, but it actually was the most comfortable Logan had felt in weeks. Returning home and seeing his family and friends for the first time in nearly a year had felt good, of course, but it had done nothing to erase the uneasy feeling under his skin, as if he’d misplaced something. Now that dissatisfied feeling was gone. He felt completely at ease.
It wasn’t that these feelings were completely surprising. It was probably natural that it would take him time to get used to his normal life. It was to be expected that he would still feel more comfortable around the person who had been his world for nine months. In time, these feelings should disappear. He just had to give it time—and stop feeding the codependency, dammit.
The sound of a ringtone snapped him out of his thoughts. Andrew started, too, before reaching for his phone and staring at it with something like trepidation.
Logan raised his eyebrows. “Someone you don’t want to talk to?”
Andrew’s face did something weird. “It’s my aunt. She raised me.”
It hadn’t escaped Logan’s notice that it wasn’t a no.
None of your damn business, he told himself and returned his gaze to his food. He pretended to be engrossed in it as Andrew answered the phone.
“…no, Auntie, I swear I didn’t forget… I know I promised to visit you today, and I will, I promise… I had no idea you were expecting me this early—”
The woman on the other end of the line seemed to launch into a tirade. Andrew listened to it with a resigned, pinched look on his face, his shoulders growing tenser with every moment. He looked… small. Andrew wasn’t a small man, but right now “small” was a good word to describe him. He looked small. Like anything could break him. Or something already had.
Logan frowned.
“I’m sorry. I’ll be heading out right now,” Andrew said at last before ending the call.
He stared at his phone for a moment, a blank look on his face, before springing to his feet. “I have to go,” he said, without looking at Logan. “I promised my aunt that I’d visit her today, and apparently she’s been expecting me for hours.”
“You need a ride?” Logan said before he could stop himself.
Andrew’s brows furrowed. “Do you have a car? I thought you lived in New York?”
Logan looked away. “I drove here,” he said curtly. Andrew didn’t need to know that he couldn’t sleep after hearing his voice, thinking about him and obsessing. He hadn’t even noticed at first that he was driving toward Boston, and then it was too late to turn back. Or so he had told himself.
“Oh,” Andrew said. “Okay, then.”
“Go take a shower and get dressed.”
Andrew rolled his eyes with a long-suffering look. “Fuck you. I don’t need you to tell me what to do. I’m capable of functioning on my own, you know.”
“Are you?” Logan said quietly. “Are you okay, Drew?”
Andrew’s jaw clenched, something almost fragile in his eyes. He looked at Logan uncertainly and said nothing.
Logan’s hands twitched toward him, but his ill-advised urge to comfort was interrupted by the knock on the door. Good timing.
Logan went to open it and thanked the maid for bringing him some clothes. He dropped the towel and started dressing unhurriedly as Andrew disappeared into the ensuite.
He was checking his emails on his phone when Andrew finally emerged from the bathroom, already dressed. He went still, looking at Logan with a strange expression on his face.
“What?” Logan said.
Andrew shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “Nothing,” he said, his lips twisted into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “I’m still not used to you being all…”
“Dressed?” Logan said with a snort.
“Yeah,” Andrew said, laughing a little. “It’s really throwing me off.”
They left the room together.
Logan ignored the curious looks that followed them everywhere, forcing himself to relax. After the solitude of the island, he was still struggling to adjust to having so many people stare at him all the time. A sideways glance at Andrew confirmed that the other man was faring much worse: there was so much tension in the way Andrew was carrying himself it looked like he might snap any moment, his eyes darting around nervously.
Frowning, Logan laid a hand on Andrew’s back. He’d half-expected Andrew to jump away from him skittishly, but instead, some of the tension seemed to bleed out of Andrew’s body. Andrew moved closer to him, walking so close that their shoulders bumped.
Logan’s frown deepened. He glanced down at Andrew’s hand. His fingers were clenching and unclenching.
It was a relief to finally reach the car.
Andrew sagged back into the passenger seat, running a hand over his face with a sigh. “Fuck.”
Fuck indeed. Logan hadn’t thought it was this bad.
He started the car, considering how to broach the subject while Andrew was putting his aunt’s address into his GPS.
“All these people… it seems a little too much sometimes, doesn’t it?” he said at last.