Chapter Fourteen

RYAN

It was his day off, but at five thirty a.m., Ryan found himself awake. The pull-out couch was comfortable, he had no complaints, and though Emerson working from home made late mornings under the covers almost impossible, that wasn't the reason he was awake at o'dark stupid.

That morning it wasn't Emerson's clicking on the computer that had him sitting at the kitchen island, drinking coffee, staring out the window as the sky brightened from dove gray to blue and the sun rose over the tops of the buildings. The dinner with Logan sat like a thousand-pound weight on his chest, and as many times as he replayed their conversation—and who was he kidding? That possessive, demanding kiss occupied his every thought—he still had no idea if he'd hear from Logan again.

The door to Emerson's bedroom opened, and with his hair sticking up in all directions, blinking and bleary-eyed, he shuffled into the living room. "What the hell are you doing up so early?"

"I could ask you the same," Ryan answered, finished his coffee, and reached for the pot to pour another.

Emerson joined him at the island. "I smelled the coffee. At first I thought I was dreaming; then realized I was awake and came out to see what was going on."

"Coffee can be the subject of many dreams," he joked, but Emerson didn't smile in return.

"You came in pretty late last night." Emerson's statement held underlying questions.

Normally a private person, Ryan nonetheless wanted to give Emerson an explanation, so he met Emerson's gaze frankly. "I was with Logan." Emerson's brows shot high, and Ryan's face grew hot. "It's not what you think."

A slight grin played on Emerson's lips. "How do you know what I'm thinking?" He braced his elbows on the counter. "And go you."

He blew out an exasperated sigh. "See? You're coming to the wrong conclusion. Nothing happened, except we agreed to…I guess start fresh is the best way to put it."

"Starting fresh from what? You've always said there was nothing between the two of you."

"And there wasn't," Ryan said, already weary of explaining. "And isn't. The fact is, Logan and I haven't ever known each other while I was healthy. I was always either high, or drunk, or thinking I could somehow manage to take drugs and drink and still function in society. I'm just learning who I am as this truly sober person I see in the mirror."

"So those meetings you came to…you weren't really off the drugs?" Disappointment clouded Emerson's eyes. "You were lying."

A healthy recovery meant telling the truth. To everyone, but especially to Emerson, who had been unselfish in his friendship. "Yes. I lied to everyone, including myself. I fooled myself into thinking I could do both. But I can't. Won't. It's not fair to the people around me trying to help, and it's not fair to me. I swear, I haven't had a drink or taken anything since I came to you. For the first time since I was seventeen, I'm completely sober."

"I'm glad to hear that." Emerson poured himself coffee. "What're you going to do today? You're off, right?"

Ryan finished his second cup. "Yeah. I might go to the center Luke and Jordan told me about. The after-school one? I'm curious to check it out and maybe help there." His smile was wry. "They say it's to keep kids off the streets and away from the violence, but it might help me as well, by giving me something to do with my time, aside from getting into trouble."

"Sounds like a plan. I haven't been, but I hear it's a great place."

"After I make breakfast." Ryan chuckled. "How about my famous hash browns with your eggs?"

" Mmm ." Emerson's face lit up as he rubbed his flat stomach. "I'm ready."

Ryan snorted. "For a skinny guy, you sure love to eat." It might only be six in the morning, but energy buzzed through him. After years of waking up with a fuzzy, numb mind and head-pounding hangovers, feeling energized and anticipating the day was something he'd need to get used to.

He couldn't wait.

* * *

The Keith Hart Community Center took up half the block, and Ryan was more than a little impressed when he pushed open the glass front doors and entered the bustling space. Computers on desks lined one wall, while well-stocked bookshelves rose floor-to-ceiling on the opposite side of the room. There were tables and chairs and a play area with video games set up for kids, and Ryan counted twenty children, in ages ranging from around ten to eighteen.

An older Black woman approached him, her brow furrowed. "May I help you?"

Realizing it must look strange—him, a grown man, entering a space for children—Ryan hastened to explain. "Hi, yes. I'm Ryan Matson. I work at Home Away from Home with Drew, Jordan, and Mike, and they suggested I come here to see the place and if I could help in any way. It's my day off, so I figured I'd check it out."

Relief replaced the woman's guarded expression. "That's wonderful. We can always use an extra set of hands. My name's Wanda, and I help run the center."

A young girl ran up to her, a notebook in her hand. "Miss Wanda. Look at my math homework. I got everything right." She blinked at Ryan. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt."

"It's okay, Allie. Good job. I'm so proud of you." Wanda gave her a hug, and Allie beamed, gave him a shy glance, then ran off to her desk. Wanda faced him. "Allie is one of many kids who come here after school because their parents work and can't afford full-time help. We're licensed by the state as a childcare center and have several educators on our staff, as well as volunteers who help out when they can."

"Like Brandon, Dr. Tash's husband?"

Wanda's eyes lit up. "Yes. Brandon is the best. He should be here soon. He tries to come after school lets out. And all the guys from the clinic like to stop by during the week or on weekends to help out." She sighed and cast her eyes upward. "I bless them every day for what they're doing for these kids."

"I wish I could've had something like this growing up."

Her gaze was frank and assessing. "I'm sure. But you made something of yourself, despite the hardships."

"And lost it all." The words tumbled out before he could stop them. "I'm trying to find my way back." Ryan felt it only right to explain his situation. "I-I had a problem with drugs and alcohol, but I'm clean now, and I'm trying to get my life together. The job at the clinic has been a lifesaver."

"It truly can be." Wanda put a hand on his shoulder. "We're all lost at some point. Don't be ashamed of your past. You're here now, and that's what matters. Would you like a little tour?" She stopped. "I'm sorry. I'm getting ahead of myself. Maybe you just stopped in and didn't plan on staying."

The din of chatter rose around him. Ryan had never been a fan of children and had zero desire for kids of his own. Yet something in this place called to him, and he nodded.

"I'd love to stay and help."

"Fabulous." She linked her arm to his. "I'll introduce you to TJ. He's been here about four months—came from Arizona and is a guidance counselor at a junior high school in Brooklyn. Great with the kids." A silver-haired man sat with a teenaged boy at one of the computers. "TJ?" Wanda called out. "Could you spare a minute?"

TJ said something to the boy, gave him a nod and pat on the shoulder, and rose to his feet. At his approach, Ryan noticed he was tall and lean, with hard lines carved into his weathered face. His eyes were a vivid, grassy green, playing in sharp contrast to thick silver hair swept off his brow. Ryan had never met TJ, yet he seemed familiar.

"What can I do for you?"

"This is Ryan. He works at the clinic, and he's here on his day off to help us. I thought maybe you could show him the ropes."

"Wonderful. Welcome aboard." TJ extended his hand, and Ryan took it.

"Thanks. I'm not sure what I can do, but…put me to work." He laughed.

Leaving Wanda behind, he and TJ walked through the space. "Tell me a little about yourself. Wanda said you work at the clinic? I haven't been there yet."

"Yeah. Only for a few weeks." He blew out a breath. "I-I'm in recovery. I was a lawyer."

"Was?" TJ inquired. "What happened?"

Ryan decided on the condensed version. "Probably what you think, or maybe worse. When I came out to my family, they kicked me out. I started using drugs. I made my way to New York City, got a job, went to college, and met my husband."

"You're married?"

"Not any longer." His smile was wry. "I kept my drug use pretty minimal in college and law school, and I could hide it from my husband. It was easier to drink because…it's what you did at college, you know?" He shrugged. "At my law firm, I got into the party scene, and it spiraled out of control. We divorced, and I got worse. Long story short, I was disbarred, and that sent me on a self-destructive path. Lucky for me, I have some good friends who helped me. Now I've been clean for several months, have a job with the clinic, and I'm seeing Dr. Tash as part of my recovery."

Approval shone from TJ's eyes. "That's an amazing survival story. I commend you on your fight, and I understand completely. I'm also a veteran of the drug war—got hooked at fifteen, used for over twenty years and ended up in the hospital. I got clean because I finally decided I was worth saving, and I learned to love myself. Now I'm married, have a child and a great job, giving back to people. It can happen. Not easily, but if you want it badly enough, you can do it. I hope you have a good support system."

Thinking of Emerson, Jordan, and Logan, Ryan knew how lucky he was. "I think I do."

The remainder of the afternoon was spent reshelving books and putting away supplies left scattered throughout the center by the kids. Brandon showed up after five when Ryan was taking a coffee break and joined him at a small table.

"How's it going? Glad to see you here." He gazed at the children around the room. "Great place, isn't it?"

"It is. I didn't think I'd enjoy spending my afternoon with kids, but it's all been good so far."

Brandon's eyes danced. "They can be a handful. Tash and I babysit Ellie, and she is certainly a child who knows her mind."

"Like Jordan?" Ryan laughed. "He's a typical surgeon. Very opinionated and—"

"Arrogant?" Brandon snickered. "Jordan does think very highly of himself, but he and Luke have a great relationship. Luke doesn't let him get away with any of it. He's quiet but very determined. He had to be, growing up the way we did."

Ryan couldn't help but ask. "You're all brothers, but you don't look at all alike."

Brandon grew somber. "Yeah…we're foster brothers, and none of us had any family. I was the youngest and Ash the oldest. He left when he was around eighteen. Luke and I stayed together for a while then…we left Georgia. It was a very bad time in all our lives—one we don't like to talk about. I'm happy we're all together, and nothing's ever going to come between us again." Brandon pressed his lips together, ending the conversation.

Ryan understood he'd reached a wall, one that Brandon, for all his friendliness, wasn't willing to let him breach. "You're lucky. I was an only child, and I've always been on my own."

"Until now." Brandon's smile was sweet. "Tash tells me you're doing a great job at the clinic. The guys are extremely happy you're working there."

Hearing that his work was valued and appreciated made him happier than he'd imagined. "Thanks. That means a lot."

As they drank their coffee, Ryan's phone buzzed. It was Logan, and his heart raced.

What're you doing for dinner tonight?

He chewed on his lip. Eating.

Very cute.

Ryan sent a grinning emoji.

Seriously. How about dinner? I can meet you at my office or your apartment. Whatever you'd like.

Ryan's lips twitched. Who knew you were such a soft touch?

I'm pretty hard around you.

Ryan's fingers faltered. I'm not spending the night.

Did I ask you to?

Ryan groaned inwardly. Why did he always play into Logan's hands? Logan sent another text.

Come on. Pick wherever you want.

He thought for a moment. Table 87 on Atlantic Avenue in Brooklyn?

Pizza? In Brooklyn?

Yeah. You have something against cheese and crossing the bridge?

See you there at 7.

Ryan responded with a pizza-slice emoji and pocketed his phone. He found Brandon's gaze on him.

"Sorry. Just a friend. We're making dinner plans."

"That's nice. A good friend, I'm assuming, from how red your face is."

"I have no idea what we are," he admitted. "We're figuring it out as we go."

Brandon's phone rang. "Sorry, that's Tash. Hey, babe. What's up?"

Moving away to give Brandon privacy, Ryan glanced at his watch. Damn, how had it gotten to be almost dinnertime? He tossed out his empty cup and headed toward Wanda, who was saying good-bye to some of the children with their parents. He waited until they were finished.

"I have to leave, but I wanted to say thank you for letting me stay and work with the kids. I really enjoyed it."

"You sound surprised."

He laughed. "I guess I am. I didn't think I'd mesh with little people, but I was wrong."

"So does that mean we'll be seeing you again?"

He nodded. "Yes. I hope so."

"Good. It was nice meeting you, and whenever you want, you're welcome to come."

"Thanks."

He found TJ next.

"Thanks for all the help. I appreciate it."

"No problem. I hope we'll see you again."

"You definitely will."

* * *

It took several train changes, and he made it to Table 87 with less than five minutes to spare.

And of course Logan was already there, sitting at a table, reading the menu. It gave Ryan a chance to study him from across the room. He was in a charcoal gray business suit with a blue-and-white-striped shirt and blue silk tie. Silver streaked his thick, dark hair which curled at his strong neck. Maybe Logan sensed Ryan's stare because he raised his gaze, those clever, assessing green eyes clashing with his.

A punch of lust hit Ryan in the gut, and his breath caught.

Be strong.

He waved a hand, then made his way past the other diners to join Logan. "Hi. Hope you weren't waiting long."

"Nope. Just got here a few minutes ago."

Ryan lowered himself into a seat as the server stopped by their table. "Hi, I'm Josh. Can I get you guys something to drink? Beer, wine, or a cocktail?"

"I'll have a ginger ale," Logan said, and Ryan frowned.

"Don't order a soda because of me."

"I'm not. Ever since I was a kid, the only drink I could have with pizza is soda."

Ryan highly doubted it but thought it nice of Logan to respect his sobriety. "I'll have a club soda with lemon."

"Okay, I'll get those for you."

They sat staring at each other until Logan grinned. "You blinked first. I win."

"What? We weren't playing a game. I was just thinking how crazy it is that I'm here with you."

"Why?"

Was Logan being deliberately dense?

"Because…because…I don't know. I never thought I'd have a chance to get my life together."

"I think you can do anything you want. You're stronger than you think."

Face hot, Ryan ducked behind the menu. "Uh, what kind of pizza do you want?"

"Anything but olives. I hate them."

"Don't worry. I do too."

"Finally someone I can relate to. Both my partners insist I have no taste, but I can't stand the taste of them."

"So, regular cheese?" Ryan didn't care which, as long as there was plenty of it.

"We could do mushrooms or pepperoni." Logan, on the other hand, seemed to take pizza ordering as a very important decision. "Or both. Maybe two pies."

"Two?"

"Yeah." Logan's eyes crinkled. "In case we want a snack for later."

Ryan's mouth dried. "I, uh, I'm not sleeping with you."

Logan's fingertips brushed the back of his hand, and the menu he held shook slightly. "Who mentioned sleep?" That low, gravelly voice sent shivers through him. "All kidding aside, I just want to talk and get to know who you really are, Ry. I don't think we've ever done that."

"Considering I'm not even sure, that's probably going to take longer than one night."

A wickedly charming smile tipped Logan's lips. "I'm counting on that."

They ordered a half-pepperoni and half-mushroom pizza. Logan hadn't been kidding when he said he drank soda with his pizza—he drank two more glasses and finished four slices. Ryan ate two, and the server stopped by their table and regarded the leftover slices.

"Do you want to take them home?"

"Yes, please," Logan answered without hesitation.

Ryan wiped his mouth. "Emerson's place is only a few blocks from here. Do you want to come over for a coffee?"

"Not particularly." The server returned with the box and their check. Logan handed him his credit card without even checking, his gaze bright and intent. "Come home with me? You don't have to spend the night, but I'd like to talk without worrying that we're going to be interrupted."

Recalling Logan's possessive, greedy kisses, Ryan's breath grew short and his resolve weakened. "I—okay. For a little while."

Once the receipt was signed, Logan beckoned to him as strode to the exit. "I'm getting a car now. Let's go."

Normally Ryan didn't go for the bossy type, but there was something about Logan's dominance that called to him, and he followed Logan to the street, where their car waited. They remained silent for the ride to Logan's apartment, but once inside, Logan set the pizza on the small entrance table and pressed him up against the door.

"Do you know how crazy you make me?" Warm lips grazed his.

"I think you're about to tell me." Ryan sighed.

"Actions, not words," Logan murmured and cupped his chin. He settled his mouth over Ryan's, and like the other times they'd kissed, Ryan lost himself in Logan's complete domination. Logan's tongue pushed and probed, teasing, and thrusting.

Ryan clutched Logan tight and sank his teeth into his neck, then licked it before pushing Logan off him. "We need to stop."

"Fuck," Logan groaned. "Did you bite me?"

A red spot marked Logan's neck. " Mm , yeah. Sorry." He paused. "Not sorry."

Logan nuzzled below his ear and ran his tongue down Ryan's cheek. "I'm not either. It was fucking hot." He kissed Ryan. "I can't even lie and say I didn't mean to attack you." He pushed a hank of sweaty hair off his brow. "Whenever you're near me, I lose my self-control."

As much as he wanted to rip off his clothes and have sex with Logan, Ryan knew it wasn't the right time to take it further. Yet. "I didn't intend for this to happen."

"I know. And that's why it was amazing. The unexpected is always the best." Logan grinned, and Ryan's heart sank, as he knew he had to set boundaries.

"But are you going to be satisfied if I say all I'm ready for now is kissing?"

Frown lines scored Logan's brow. "I already said I'll respect your wishes."

"I know." Ryan dropped his gaze. "I have a hard time saying no to you. That's part of the problem."

"It doesn't have to be." Logan tugged his hand. "Let's sit." A rueful smile flickered over his well-kissed lips. "I do think we need to talk."

Ryan sat beside Logan, and despite the fact that only moments earlier they'd been pawing at each other like wild animals, he was nervous to hear what Logan had to say.