Just a Bit Wrecked

by Hazard, Alessandra

  Andrew frowned and looked away. “We’ve already gone to see my aunt together. It didn’t exactly help.”

  “It’s not enough, Andrew,” she said. “You have to be patient. There’s no magical cure for your situation. It might take months before you’ll learn to stop needing each other. But it’ll happen sooner the more effort you both make to reintegrate yourselves back into society.”

  Andrew pursed his lips. Months? Was she serious?

  He looked at Logan. His expression was as grim and unhappy as Andrew felt.

  “Thank you, Doctor,” Logan said, getting to his feet.

  They left the therapist, feeling even more lost than when they’d arrived. At least Andrew did. He wasn’t sure what Logan was thinking, and it unsettled him.

  He couldn’t help shooting the other man sideways looks as Logan started the car.

  Logan’s profile was like a stone, impossible to read.

  “Where are we going?” Andrew said.

  “The airport.”

  His stomach tied up into knots. “The airport?”

  Logan gave a clipped nod, his gaze on the road. “I’m returning to New York.”

  “But the therapist said…” Andrew cringed, hating how small his voice sounded.

  “I know what the therapist said. I’m following her instructions.”

  Andrew chewed on his bottom lip, confused. “I don’t understand.”

  Logan heaved a sigh. “She made it clear there’s no quick solution to the issue. But I can’t hang out here indefinitely. I can run my business from here too, but first I need to go back to New York to delegate some of my responsibilities and get my things.”

  “Get your things?” Andrew said, turning his head to him. He stared. “You’re moving to Boston?” For me?

  A muscle jumped in Logan’s unshaven cheek. He wouldn’t look at Andrew. “It isn’t a big deal,” he said stiffly. “My family is here, too.”

  Right. Of course.

  Andrew’s mind was still reeling. He folded his hands in his lap and stared at them.

  When will you be back?

  The question hovered on the tip of his tongue, but he bit it back. He didn’t want to be that clingy. He was already acting pathetic as it was.

  They arrived at the Boston airport way too soon.

  “Here.”

  Andrew lifted his gaze.

  Logan was giving him the car key. There was a strange look in his dark eyes as he gazed at Andrew. “Drive the car back to the hotel,” he said, taking Andrew’s hand and putting the key into his palm. “It’s mine, not the hotel’s. You can use it, if you need it.”

  His hand didn’t move away immediately, causing goosebumps to run up Andrew’s arm. His fingers started to tremble, clinging to Logan’s of their own volition.

  Logan looked down at them, his gaze so very dark, before looking back into Andrew’s eyes.

  “I’ll be back soon,” he said, his voice dropping to a hoarse whisper.

  Andrew nodded numbly.

  Logan untangled their fingers and opened the car door, letting the outside noise in.

  Andrew grabbed his arm.

  His muscles tensing, Logan turned back to him.

  Andrew darted forward and buried his face against the hollow of Logan’s throat. “I’m sorry for being such a mess,” he whispered, inhaling his scent greedily. He despised himself for acting like a junkie with a bad case of addiction whose drug was about to be taken away. But God, Logan smelled so good. Andrew wasn’t even sure what he smelled like, but he smelled perfect. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, gripping Logan’s biceps. “I’m sorry I’m making your life harder and being—”

  “Shut up,” Logan said roughly, squeezing him with his arms. “We’ll figure it out.” He dropped a kiss on top of Andrew’s head and took an audible breath. Then he pulled away and got out of the car.

  Andrew stared at his wide back until Logan’s tall figure was swallowed by the crowd.

  Chapter 20

  Andrew would like to say he did something productive with his time after Logan left, but that would be a lie.

  He would like to say that he made an effort to be sociable, but that would be a lie, too. No, he pretty much lived in his hotel room and was the definition of a couch potato. He didn’t talk to anyone, because he ignored his aunt’s calls, and no one else ever called him.

  It had never been more glaringly obvious that he didn’t have friends. All of his friends had always been more of Vivian’s than his. With her gone, clearly none of them gave enough of a damn about Andrew to even text him, much less call him.

  You can call them yourself, Logan’s sardonic voice said in his head.

  Andrew groaned and flung an arm over his face. Even his inner voice sounded like Logan these days. He was hopeless.

  His phone’s ringtone made him flinch. Andrew sighed, thinking it was probably Aunt Rebecca again. He fished his phone out of his pocket and glanced at the Caller ID, just in case.

  It was Shawn.

  After a moment’s hesitation, he answered.

  “Hey,” Shawn said, his voice a little tense.

  “Hi.”

  “Um, how are you?”

  Andrew’s eyebrows went up. Really? “I’m fine, thanks,” he said.

  A pause.

  “You’ve been kind of AWOL, buddy,” Shawn said at last, answering his unasked question.

  “I’m enjoying some peace and quiet,” Andrew said. “Is there any reason you’re calling me?” You wouldn’t call me if you didn’t need something from me.

  “Uh, yeah,” Shawn said, his tone hesitant.

  Andrew smiled bitterly.

  “Ian Caldwell’s woken up from his coma,” Shawn said.

  Andrew stared at the ceiling, completely indifferent to the news. “And? What do you want?”

  “Derek would like your advice on how to proceed,” Shawn said.

  Andrew snorted, skeptical. “He does? Since when?”

  “All right, no, but you know how proud he is.” Shawn sounded fond and a little exasperated. “I know he feels guilty for landing the company in this mess, and he’s determined to fix everything himself, even though it’s out of his area of expertise.”

  That sounded more like Derek Rutledge. A control freak. An arrogant dick.

  “I’m afraid he won’t be able to crush Caldwell with the force of his personality,” Andrew said, very dryly. “I had the pleasure of dealing with Caldwell a few years ago. He’s as assertive as Derek.”

  “I know.” Shawn sighed. “Which is why I need you to talk some sense into Derek. He’s been talking to some lawyers. Please tell Derek he should try to make peace with the guy instead of going to war with him.”

  “Why me? He sure as hell cares about your opinion more than he cares about mine.”

  “Yes,” Shawn said. “But he trusts your expertise in this matter. He trusts you to run the company well. He knows how capable you are.”

  Andrew opened his mouth and then closed it, not sure what to say.

  “Then why isn’t he the one calling me?” he said after a moment.

  “I already told you why. He thinks it’s his fault, and he’s determined to…”

  There was the sound of the lock being activated.

  Andrew stared at the door handle as it turned, his heart starting to beat faster and his palms going clammy.

  The door opened, and Logan stood in the doorway, looking at him with a strange, fixed expression on his face.

  Shawn was still saying something, but Andrew couldn’t hear it anymore, his pulse thundering in his ears and his world narrowing to Logan’s dark eyes. There was something hard in them as Logan locked the door and walked toward him slowly.

  Andrew wet his lips. It felt like every cell in his body was trying to jump out of his skin, and it took every bit of his strength to remain still on the bed.

  Logan sat down beside him, still gazing at him strangely.

  Andrew couldn’t fucking stand it anymore
.

  He grabbed Logan’s hand and jerked him closer. Logan fell on top of him awkwardly, crushing the breath out of his lungs, but Andrew didn’t care. He wrapped all his limbs around him, nearly moaning from how good it felt. Finally. He was here. Finally.

  “Andrew?” said a muffled voice from his phone—the phone he’d dropped on the bed.

  “I think you were in the middle of a conversation,” Logan murmured, mouthing the side of his neck before sucking a hickey there.

  Andrew shivered, whimpering. He buried his fingers in Logan’s hair, pulling him closer. Tighter. Need you closer. “Huh?” he said breathlessly, pushing Logan’s dark sweater off and running his hands greedily over the warm, smooth expanse of his back, kneading the firm muscle. “Missed you,” he whispered before he could stop himself. “Need you.”

  Logan shuddered. He nipped his way up Andrew’s neck and across his chin. He paused, their panting mouths hovering an inch apart. Andrew licked his trembling lips again, needing so badly he was literally shaking with it.

  Fuck it.

  He grabbed Logan’s head and yanked him down into a hungry kiss. God. Although it was their first kiss, it felt like they’d done this hundreds of times already. It felt beyond perfect, his toes curling and his heart melting and his body trying to merge into Logan’s. He’d never wanted anyone more.

  They kissed and kissed, and it got rougher and needier, and then it wasn’t enough.

  Soon, their clothes were on the floor.

  They fucked just like that, their lips locked together, Logan’s hastily slicked-up cock moving in him with filthy, wet sounds of flesh against flesh. Andrew wasn’t even embarrassed of the high-pitched moans leaving his mouth as they fucked. He didn’t care. He couldn’t stop kissing him. Couldn’t get enough of him. Couldn’t touch him enough. He could die happily like this, full of Logan’s cock and being kissed within an inch of his life.

  He came too fast, sobbing and clinging to Logan’s heavy body with all his might. It was bliss. It was pure heaven.

  He didn’t even mind that Logan kept fucking him for a while, no matter how oversensitive his hole now was. It still felt pleasant in a different way. It made him want to preen, Logan’s every groan and moan like a personal accomplishment. He was wanted. He was needed. He was making Logan feel good.

  When Logan finally spilled inside him and went still, Andrew was almost disappointed that it was over.

  He had no idea how long they lay like that, floating on a post-orgasmic high.

  It took Andrew a while to register something hard digging into his side. Frowning, he opened his eyes and retrieved the offending object.

  His phone.

  “Fuck.”

  Logan lifted his head and looked down at him, his eyes still a little glassy. “What?”

  Andrew winced when he saw the length of the call. He was pretty sure he hadn’t spoken to Shawn for seven minutes. How much had that asshole heard before hanging up?

  “My brother-in-law’s husband likely heard us having sex.” Andrew sighed, running a hand over his face. “Fuck, did I say your name?”

  When Logan didn’t reply, he looked back at him.

  Logan’s expression was unreadable, but his brown eyes were significantly harder now. “And that would be a problem? Because I’m a man?”

  Andrew pulled a face. “It’s not… it’s not really about that. I just really hate the idea of someone listening to me having sex. It makes me feel…” He winced again. “Kind of dirty. I’ve always been uncomfortable with public displays of affection, and this is far weirder. Sex is… I know it’s old-fashioned, but I’ve always thought of sex as something private.” Vivian had always made fun of him for being such a “prude,” and although he’d disagreed, there was some truth to it.

  He looked back at Logan, expecting him to make fun of him too, but the expression on his face wasn’t mocking. Andrew wasn’t sure what it was, but mockery wasn’t there.

  Logan laid a hand on Andrew’s face, rubbing his cheek with his thumb for a moment. Andrew shivered, trying not to lean into the touch like a cat.

  At last, Logan said, looking him in the eyes, “Even if he heard something, he wasn’t here. He didn’t see anything. It was just you and me.”

  Andrew swallowed.

  “You and me,” he repeated, and somehow, the words turned into something he hadn’t intended them to be, and the air between them grew thick and heavy. Andrew found himself blushing, for no damn reason.

  Logan’s lips curled into a smile. It was a beautiful smile.

  Andrew felt… He felt… Logan seemed too far all of a sudden; Andrew needed him closer. He buried his hand in Logan’s hair and dragged him down into a hard, needy kiss. God, he wanted to consume him, take his body into his own and keep it there, forever. You and me, the words echoed in his mind as he sucked on Logan’s tongue hungrily.

  You and me, you and me, you and me.

  Chapter 21

  Andrew’s mouth was fucking made for kissing, Logan thought. His lips were plump and soft, and he kissed with endless need that went straight to Logan’s cock—and did uncomfortable things to his heart too.

  Fuck, this was worse than the sex. Sex was just sex. Logan didn’t have a problem separating sex from attachment and affection. But they weren’t having sex now, and yet he was kissing Andrew. Just because he wanted it. Just because he loved feeling Andrew shiver in his arms, his trembling lips clinging to Logan’s, Andrew’s soft moans swallowed by his own mouth. There was something addictive about it. Something intoxicating. Logan felt drunk on these kisses, drunk and powerful, the pleasure unlike anything he’d ever felt.

  They’d been kissing for what felt like hours, ever since they’d woken up. They’d already had morning sex, but they hadn’t stopped kissing—the kisses just went from heated to lazy and clingy. Logan felt clingy as hell and it was starting to creep him out.

  The sound of an incoming message broke the warm, intimate atmosphere in the room.

  Andrew sighed and tore his mouth away with an obscene wet sound. Logan stared at those pink, moist lips as their owner reached for his phone.

  Those pretty lips pursed slightly when Andrew saw the message. “It’s Shawn again,” he said. “He’s inviting me for lunch.”

  Logan lifted his gaze. “You want to go?”

  Andrew pulled a funny face, raking a hand through his messy curls. Fuck, he looked… Obviously he looked ridiculously sexy, all flushed and fucked out—but he also looked endearingly thoughtful. Endearingly.

  Christ, he was screwed.

  “I don’t know,” Andrew said and caught his bottom lip between his teeth, looking down. He sighed. “I don’t want to go, but I probably have to. I need to stop Vivian’s brother from doing something potentially disastrous—again.”

  “Hm.”

  Andrew looked at him. “What?”

  “You don’t owe those people anything,” Logan said, carefully keeping his tone neutral. “You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”

  Andrew’s brows furrowed. There was something almost like bewilderment in his eyes, as if he didn’t even understand the concept.

  “I need to do it,” Andrew said, shaking his head. He set his jaw stubbornly. “Not because I think I owe something to the Rutledges. It’s my company, too. I’ve worked my ass off for it for a decade. I’m not letting anyone ruin it, be it Caldwell or Derek.”

  Logan suppressed a smile. “Okay,” he said. He glanced at his watch. “It’s eleven already. You should probably be heading out soon.”

  Andrew frowned and dropped his gaze, his fingers anxiously playing with the sheets beneath him.

  When he looked up again, his face was difficult to read. “Didn’t the therapist say we should do stuff together?”

  Logan stared at him. “You want me to go with you to your brother-in-law’s house?”

  A faint flush appeared on Andrew’s cheekbones. “It’s not that I want to. I just—I just want to follow the
doctor’s instructions and… Isn’t that what we both want? Become normal again.”

  Normal.

  Logan sat up, turning his back to Andrew, and said, “Fine.”

  Behind him, Andrew was quiet.

  Logan stared at the condoms peeking out of his jeans’ pocket. He’d forgotten to use them again. Irresponsible as hell. But then again, “irresponsible” was a good word to describe this clusterfuck of a relationship. God, what were they doing?

  “Are you…” Andrew paused. “Are you mad at me?”

  Logan’s lips thinned.

  “Why do you care even if I am?” he said tersely.

  He felt the mattress dip as Andrew shifted, pressing his chest against Logan’s bare back, his arms wrapping around Logan’s middle. Logan sat very still.

  Andrew sighed, burying his face in Logan’s nape. He breathed in audibly. “I don’t want to care,” he whispered. “But you know I do.” He gave a brittle laugh. “I care too much; that’s the problem. Until we become normal again, I—” His voice cracked. “I can’t fucking stand the thought of you being mad at me and leaving. I need you. Help me to stop needing you. And I’ll get out of your hair, I promise.”

  Logan stared at the opposite wall. “All right.”

  Andrew kissed the back of his neck and let out a contented little sigh that did terrible things to Logan’s heart.

  Goddammit.

  ***

  “I’ll say we’re friends,” Andrew said as they approached the front door.

  Logan snorted without looking at him. “I remember. You don’t have to keep repeating it.”

  “I just—”

  “Don’t worry, no one will suspect that you rode my dick all night,” Logan said, very dryly.

  Flushing, Andrew hushed him, and just in time: the Rutledges’ butler opened the door.

  Logan followed Andrew into the large house, keeping a step behind him as Andrew greeted the handsome blond—Shawn—and his husband, Derek.