Try

“Are you sure? I mean, if we do this, you can’t go back. You can’t change it. This makes it real.”
Logan watched as Tate lay back down, pushing his hips up to him in invitation, and when he raised his eyes, Tate’s expression answered before his words did.
“It’s been real since the moment I realized that I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
Logan couldn’t help himself from reaching down to his own erection. Steadily, he began to glide his fist up its length.
“And when was that?”
Tate’s eyes grew heavy, and his lips parted as he admitted, “The first night we met.”

“I want you to tell me the truth.” For once, Logan meant it.
“The truth?” Tate asked.
Logan moved then, across the room until he was in front of the other man, where he repeated, “The truth. Did you enjoy what happened this morning? It’s as simple and as easy as that.”
 “Really? It’s that simple, that easy?” Tate questioned in a tone indicating that he thought Logan was certifiable.
Refusing to give an inch now that Tate was talking, Logan gave a slight nod of his head. “No one in this room is going to judge whatever comes out of your mouth. So. Tell. Me. The. Truth.”
Tate clenched his jaw, and almost as if he had given himself permission, he explained, “Did I like it? Yes. Do I understand it? No, I fucking don’t.”
That was all he’d been waiting for. Logan took the final step to bring him close enough to smell Tate’s cologne, and the guy smelled amazing.
“Do you need to understand it to know that it felt good?” Logan raised his hand to touch Tate’s arm, testing the hard, lean muscle. “Do you want to do it again?”
Logan kept watchful eyes on the man coming to terms with all of his decisions today, and when Tate’s hand came up to grip his own, Logan waited.
“It’s like you expect me to flip a switch and just accept that everything I ever believed about myself has changed, and that I should be okay with that. Do you know how insane that is?”
“I do. But do you know what else is insane?”
“What?”
“That you still haven’t told me no.”

“That’s it? That’s what you’ve been waiting for?” Lowering his head, Logan pressed his mouth against the corner of Tate’s. “What? I haven’t told you how much I need you in my life? How much I want you here in it, everyday?” Logan raised his hand to touch the hair by Tate’s face. “How can you not already know?”
Tate raised an eyebrow at him, and Logan couldn’t help but run his finger over it as he mumbled, “So damn stubborn.”
“It’s your own fault. You never told me. What am I, a mind reader?”
“I don’t know, but I’m a fool,” Logan stated.
“Why?”
“This morning, you accused me of risking nothing, and you’re right.”
Tate went silent as though knowing if he spoke, Logan would never get out what he wanted to say.
“You’ve changed me, and you don’t even realize it. Just being with you, near you? It makes me want to be a better person. You make me want to take a risk.”
Tate touched one of his fingertips to his lower lip.
“What do you want to risk?”
Logan let go of all the emotions he’d held so carefully at arm’s length. Finally, with those feelings surrounding and engulfing him, he answered simply, “Everything.”

“You ask everything of me, everything, and risk absolutely nothing in return.”
Releasing him with a rough, hard push, Tate glared at him in a way that made Logan feel like the piece of shit he knew he was being.
“I don’t know why I’m so surprised. Did things get a little too real for you, Logan? Well, fuck you! My whole goddamn life just changed, and here you are, backing away like a pussy.”
Logan straightened and stood up as Tate moved to the door. He was about to call out to him, stop him from leaving, when Tate placed his palm on the handle and turned back, pinning him with a look that shouldn’t have, but did, cut him to the core.
“Why don’t you understand that everything I’ve done and just did, I did because of how you make me feel, Logan? Even when I knew my family wouldn't understand, I did it anyway, just to get closer to you. How stupid was I?”

As the smell of ground beans reached him, he watched Tate maneuver his way through the people waiting to take a spot at the back of the shortest line. Following his lead, Logan moved in beside him and then reached down between them and slid his palm into the one by Tate’s side.
Tate turned toward him, and Logan made sure he was staring right back with a neutral expression. When Tate’s fingers parted slightly and entwined with his own, as they had last night, Logan couldn’t help the way his heartbeat nearly flew out of his chest. Tate winked at him and went back to facing the front, and Logan found it almost laughable that he was the one standing there with a shocked look on his face.

“I don’t like him,” Tate’s voice interrupted matter-of-factly.
“You don’t know him.”
“I still don’t like him.”
“Because…” Logan drawled.
“Because he had you,” Tate told him much more boldly than Logan would have expected. “He fucked you, didn’t he?”
Enjoying Tate’s jealousy a little too much, Logan answered, “Yes. Quite a bit.”
“How much is quite a bit?”
“Want all the juicy details, Tate?”
Logan heard a long-suffering sigh, and then Tate cursed, “Fuck.”
“Tate?”
“What?” he barked at him.
Logan couldn’t help the way his dick reacted to it. “I can’t even remember what he looks like because all I can picture is you.” Logan’s heart ached as he waited for what felt like hours until Tate finally spoke.
“You really mean that, don’t you?”
“I do, and it scares me.”
“Why?” Tate whispered into the phone.
His voice had Logan wishing he hadn’t gone home alone and that he was instead lying in bed beside him.
“Come on, Tate. Don’t you think I wonder what will finally change your mind? What will make you think, what the hell am I doing?”
There — he’d finally voiced his biggest fear.

Tate Morrison. Logan hadn’t been lying. There was nothing easy about what he was feeling when it came to that man. Scary and surprising — yes.
He wasn’t one to give much credence to the whole love notion. Very little of it had been passed around in his life so far, and he just figured it was something people made up to make themselves feel better. That was, until Tate.
He’d managed to make Logan feel something only one other before him had, and Logan wasn’t sure if that made him happy or terrified. All he knew was that whatever it was, he needed to keep a close handle on it.

“I don’t have any expectations of how you should act, you know. I don’t even know what I’m doing half the time. Just don’t play around with me, okay? If you want this, fine. But if you don’t, tell me, so I’m not wasting my fucking time. I just want the truth.”
Logan focused on him, and he looked slightly shocked. Then, in a tone that Tate had never heard, he explained, “You’re not the only one who has changed in the last two weeks.” He paused and brought a hand up to touch Tate’s mouth before taking a step back. “You make me want things that I’d forgotten I wanted.”

“You know what I’d really love to do?”
The clueless woman leaned in, and for some reason, Tate braced himself with his palms on the edge of the bar. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt that whatever Logan was gearing up to say, was not going to be even remotely appropriate.
“No, what?”
Logan also moved forward until his lips almost brushed against the woman’s, but at the last second, he turned his attention on him. “Your bartender.”
Okay, Tate thought, there’s no doubt here. My cock definitely knows who it wants.
“Huh?” Red asked, clearly not understanding.
But Tate wasn’t confused by the words or the look Logan was aiming at him. It screamed, You’re mine, not hers.
“Your bartender,” Logan repeated and turned back to face her while Tate held the wood under his hands. “I want to do him, as in take off his clothes and fuck him, and you’re in my way.”
Tate witnessed the woman, whose mouth had parted in shock, turn and face him as if waiting for—
Sorry, lady. I’m used to his mouth.

“Were you on a date?”
“No.”
“Did you have a woman over, and that’s why you couldn’t answer?”
“Mom. No,” Tate stressed.
But it was beyond containment.
“What’s her name? What does she look like?”
Tate took a long drag of the cigarette and closed his, picturing his date from the night before. Yeah, somehow, he didn’t think his mother would appreciate that his date was around six-feet-two and had dark stubble to match his short black hair.
Oh, not to mention, Mom, his dick is slightly longer than my own.
Yeah, maybe not.