Chapter Seventeen

LOGAN

"Look at you, all dolled up. Where are you going?" Smirking, Simon leaned against his door, watching him as he slipped on his suit jacket.

Knowing he was being baited, Logan made a face. "Dinner and a play."

"With Ryan?"

"Yes." If he'd hoped Simon would be satisfied with his answer, he was wrong.

"So you two are getting serious?"

His patience worn thin, Logan snapped. "I'm seriously annoyed at being interrogated. It's dinner and a play, not a wedding. Now if you've got nothing else to say, I have to leave."

As he brushed past Simon, he found his arm gripped, and he stopped, raised his brows, and removed Simon's hand. "Don't do that again, please."

"Wait. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to tease you."

Unsmiling, he met Simon's eyes. "Yes, you did. I'm glad you think my personal life is fodder for you to make jokes. You know, you nagged at me to stop looking for Ryan when he was missing. When he showed up, you didn't trust his motives and warned me to keep my distance. You've been after me for years to have a steady relationship, and here I am, trying to figure it out, and you're still coming after me. What the hell do you want?"

"I don't want anything except for you to be happy."

"Who the fuck is happy? You?" He laughed bitterly. "I don't see you settling down. You told your father to shove his opinions about your personal life up his ass, and you have a different woman with you every time I see you at an event. Before you stick your nose in my bed, check yourself."

Simon paled but stood his ground. "You're not me. I have my reasons."

"So do I. And I'm not you is right. So let me do what I want."

He pushed past Simon and hit the button for the elevator.

The car ride gave his anger a chance to cool. He'd make up with Simon in the morning. He didn't want to let his bad mood ruin the evening, especially with him and Ryan just beginning to get on the same wavelength.

The car pulled up in front of the Richard Rodgers Theatre on 46th Street, and he spied Ryan's golden head in the crowd milling about, waiting to see Hamilton . As always when he saw Ryan, his heart did funny things in his chest. Seeing him bright-eyed and gaining weight, making healthy choices, was bittersweet for Logan. Happy as he was for Ryan, the lingering sadness would never leave him that his brother hadn't taken the help offered.

He stood unnoticed for the time being, watching Ryan scroll on his phone. Why this man above all others? Logan had never lacked for bed partners. He enjoyed men and occasionally a woman in his bed, but over the years he'd retreated more and more, preferring solitude to faking it. Desire had faded into the background of a life he'd kept on mute.

Until Ryan.

Who, at that moment, glanced up from his phone and smiled, blue eyes lighting up, meeting his gaze over the heads of people passing by. A wellspring of happiness rose within him, and a grin, wide and silly, spread across his face as he rushed to Ryan's side.

"Hi. Sorry I'm late."

"You're not."

He hesitated, then kissed Ryan's cheek. "I'm glad we could do this. I'm sorry I've been unreachable these past few days. Suddenly everyone wanted to renegotiate their contracts, and I had to make my hours fit their schedules to meet the ones who are playing and in the middle of road trips."

"Don't worry. I understand. And you're here now. That's what matters. Want to go in and sit?"

Hand in hand, they joined the line at the entrance and were shown to their seats. They settled in with their playbill, and Ryan scanned the crowded theater.

"I haven't been to a play in…forever." Ryan's bright eyes dimmed. "Garrett used to love going, but I'd always make excuses and he'd end up taking his grandmother."

"I haven't had the time either, but I thought it would be a nice change from a movie or simply dinner." Logan held out his hand.

Ryan looked down and took it, sliding their fingers together. "It is. But I'm enjoying all our time together, no matter what we do."

They shared a smile.

The lights dimmed, and Logan became so engrossed in the play, he was surprised how fast the time flew. The lights flicked on for intermission. It had been a long time since he'd been able to put the rest of the world on hold for an uninterrupted hour of pure entertainment. People got to their feet, and he knew they were going to the bar for drinks.

"Do you want something—a soda or water?" he asked Ryan.

"No, I'm good, but you can. I won't mind. I've said it already—you don't have to change your lifestyle to suit mine."

"I already have." He leaned in close, inhaling the scent of Ryan's skin. "I'm here with you and enjoying every single second of it."

The play was good, but his real pleasure was watching Ryan. Using the cover of darkness in the theater, Logan paid attention to how Ryan concentrated on the stage, laughed at the jokes, and sang along to the most popular songs that even Logan knew.

The lights came up and people filed out of the theater, but he sat and waited, unwilling to break the magic. Ryan smoothed the playbill. "Thank you for taking me here." A small, almost sad smile broke free from his lips. "It's one of the first times in a long time I've felt part of something."

Logan squeezed his hand. "If we don't leave, they might lock us in here. Come back to mine?"

Ryan studied his face. "Okay. For a little while."

Logan frowned but didn't say anything. It wasn't the time for it, but once they reached his apartment, he poured them both some sparkling water and pointed at the couch.

"Let's sit. Why're you so hesitant about spending time alone with me?"

Ryan flushed. "I'm still not ready to have sex. I can't give you an exact date when I will be, so I'll understand if you walk."

He put a hand on Ryan's shoulder. "I'm not pressuring you."

"So you're going to be fine with us continuing like this? I can't imagine someone like you waiting for me to get myself together. You never have before."

Someone like you.

Those words hit him hard in the heart, and not in a positive way. Despite everything he'd said and done, doubt remained in Ryan's eyes and the tense set of his jaw.

"Let me tell you a story. My father told me that when he first saw my mother at a dance, it was as if everyone else around him ceased to exist. Other girls he'd dated faded into oblivion. He might've been a little bit of the bad boy—smoked cigarettes, cut school. But all that changed when he met my mother. He stopped hanging out with the troublemakers, began to study, and turned his life around."

"That's a sweet story, but I don't see what that has to do with you and me."

Maybe he wasn't as good with his words as he'd thought, because he was having so much damn trouble explaining himself. Or maybe for the first time, his words came from the heart, not glibly rolling off his tongue.

"I'm not saying either of us has to be ‘good enough' for the other, but my story proves that people can change. My father did. You did. And so can I."

"I don't want you to change."

"Maybe I do." Logan clasped his hands and stared at the floor. "My father dying made me realize how alone I was. I could disappear tomorrow, and aside from the few people in my office, who would really notice or care?"

"That's silly," Ryan protested. "You have plenty of people who care."

"I can name them on one hand. But I'm not looking for pity."

"What are you looking for?"

"You here with me." Logan pulled him close. "I come home, and you're not here, and I don't like it."

"You could get a puppy."

"You could not be ridiculous. I miss you, Ryan."

Ryan smiled against his cheek. "Why? I wasn't your lover, and I was a pretty terrible roommate."

"Because I like having you here. With me. And I think it's silly for you to be sleeping on a crappy couch when I have a perfectly good second bedroom available."

"It's not a crappy couch," Ryan protested, eyes dancing. "Emerson spent a lot of money on it."

Ignoring Ryan's attempt at a joke, Logan continued to make his point. "How much are you paying Emerson? It's not going to be like before. I'll charge you what you pay him, and we'll split the utilities." Uncharacteristically nervous, he clasped and unclasped his hands. "This time…this time will be different. You're sober and on a true road to recovery, and I…" He hesitated. "I'm not sure what I'm doing."

"Letting me in?" Ryan said, placing a hand over his. "Showing me who Logan Silver could be if he allowed himself to feel?"

He felt something. A driving need to have Ryan in his life. "I'm not sure even I know who that is, but I think you're the one who can help me discover it. If you move in, I want to see if it takes us to the next step."

"You mean lovers."

"Yes. I'm not that altruistic. I want you. And I think you want me too, but I understand you have a list of things to work on before that comes to pass."

"I do…but don't think you're not on that list." His eyes twinkled. "Maybe not number one…"

The fact that Ryan didn't automatically say no gave Logan hope, and he leaned in to press a kiss to Ryan's lips. "I'm okay with that…for now."

A line bisected Ryan's brow. "You're actually serious? You want me to move in again?"

"Why not? You can have your own bedroom, your own bathroom—"

"What about my freedom?" Ryan crossed his arms, and Logan recognized the steely determination in those incredible blue eyes. This wasn't the broken, desperate man of months ago. "Do I get that too?"

"Meaning?"

"To come and go as I please without explanation. If I want friends over, I can have them. If I want to go out, I don't need to check in with you. I need trust. Something you admitted you lacked in me."

"You want trust? How about the fact that I'm trusting you with something I've never given anyone else?"

"Which is…?"

"Myself."