Элла Франк - Try

“Maybe if you’d said that this morning to Mr. Morrison, you would have been here on time.”

Logan’s mouth fell open, and the words he was about to say got stuck. When his phone vibrated on the desk, he glanced at the message quickly and saw that it was Tate. Knowing Cole would not be leaving anytime soon, Logan looked back to his brother as he absently hit a button to Ignore the message. He’d call Tate back as soon as his over-attentive business partner left. “That was last night’s activity, if you must know. And aren’t you the comedian today?”

“I try.”

“No, you don’t—ever. So, what gives?”

Cole tilted his head to the side. “You were with the bartender, huh?”

Logan sat forward and clasped his hands together, glaring across at Cole. “Yes, Counselor. I know you’re not stupid, so you already know all of this. Get to the point.”

Cole raised a hand and stroked his chin with a shrug. “Bit messy, don’t you think?”

Logan knew exactly what he meant, but he’d had just about enough of Cole’s veiled comments. “Sure it is, but he’s so much fun to lick up, and he’s so…vocal. Oh yeah, Logan.”

* * *

Tate stared at the phone in his hand and felt something between panic and burning rage. Surely, what he was hearing at the other end was not what he thought it was, but as he watched the seconds on the display change, it was confirmed. The call from Logan was definitely connected.

When his message had first gone through, his phone almost immediately began to ring. Sitting down on the couch, Tate had relaxed back into the leather, thinking he was about to talk with the man who’d left him in bed this morning.

Instead, he was sitting on the couch, listening to—

What? A conversation between Logan and—Tate could only assume—Cole? One in which Tate was not only the central character, but also the comedic relief.

* * *

Cole didn’t even flinch at Logan’s reenactment. After years of knowing one another and working together every day, Logan figured it would take a whole hell of a lot to shock his brother.

Instead, Cole asked, “What are you doing with this guy?”

Logan couldn’t help himself. “Well, last night, he was actually the one who did…”

“Logan?”

“Yeah?”

“Stop fucking around and answer me. I walked in on you doing and being done all through college. I hardly think I’m going to be horrified now. So, cut the crap. What are you doing with this guy?”

Logan glared at Cole. The asshole is right. He knows me better than anyone. “I’m just having fun, okay? It’s nothing serious. Just the usual.”

Cole’s eyes pinned him in place as he sat forward in his chair. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Do you even remember what fun is?”

“Kind of. Yes,” Cole answered stoically, not a smile in sight. “Does he know he’s just a piece of ass?”

Logan frowned, discovering he hated that fucking description, but he offered no defense. He didn’t need Cole all over him about this.

“How is this your business? And yeah, I’m pretty sure he knows we aren’t running out to buy wedding rings.”

“You know, it’s okay to admit that you like the guy.”

Logan shook his head. He had no idea why Cole was being such a pain this morning, but it was getting really damn aggravating.

“What the fuck, Cole? Get off my case, would you? I have dated before.”

“When? College?”

“Maybe,” Logan replied vaguely, knowing of only one other person he had ever dated.

Cole stood and placed his hands on the desk and looked down at him.

“If you mean Chris, that is not dating. That was fucking, hiding, lying, and then him bailing like a pussy when everyone found out. And he was gay.”

Logan sat back at the anger on Cole’s face. He had been referring to Chris, but he hadn’t really wanted to rehash it, especially not that way.

“It wasn’t that bad.”

“Yes, it was. So, I will ask you again,” Cole began. “What are you doing with this straight guy? You know how things like this end, and I don’t know why, but you always end up giving a shit about the wrong people.”

“That’s not true, and it doesn’t matter. I told you, this isn’t that serious.”

As soon as the words had left his mouth, Logan recognized them for the lies they were. But he wasn’t about to confide in Cole, not when he was royally pissing him off.

* * *

Tate wondered how he hadn’t hurled his phone across Logan’s living room as he glared into the brightly lit surface shining back at him. He was livid. With every word that passed between these two, Tate’s temper rose, and the trust he’d been so reluctant to give crumbled.

Not sure how much more he could listen to, Tate was about to end the call when Cole’s voice came through the phone, breaking the silence.

“After Chris, you have not had one serious relationship. You fuck and run. And the first person you decide to focus on is straight?”

Tate sucked in a breath. He didn’t want to hear Logan’s response, but he also found it impossible to ignore.

“You know, when you got married a week after knowing Hot Cheetah Pants, I wasn’t this much of an asshole.”

“No, but you were quick to point out how I tied myself to one person. Just make sure the person you decide to put all your effort into is the right person.”

“You’re really starting to piss me off.”

For once, Tate had to agree with Logan. Cole was really pissing him off, too.

“Am I? Truth hurts, huh?”

 “Whatever. What’s your point? If you even have one.”

“My point is, Logan, don’t delude yourself into thinking he’s going to magically switch teams.”

“Well, thank you, Cole, for being so damn supportive. Good thing I’m not delusional.”

Still furious, Tate pushed aside his own anger and disappointment for a moment. He thought he’d caught something in Logan’s tone, but before he could pinpoint it, it was gone.

* * *

Logan wanted to hit something, and he was afraid if Cole didn’t leave, it would be him. So, he advised, “You know where the door is. Why don’t you go and fucking use it?”

Cole stood and walked over to where Logan was now standing behind his desk. Logan hated that he had to look up, even slightly. When he did, he saw a flash of sympathy cross Cole’s face, and he almost gave in to the urge for violence, something he hadn’t done in years.

“I said, get out,” he repeated.

Cole shook his head. “Don’t become someone’s mistake.”

“Why? It’s what I’m good at. I was your father’s biggest mistake.”

Logan knew it was low, and he knew the blow was uncalled for, but Cole was hitting too close to all of his fears and insecurities. When Logan was cornered, he always fought dirty.

“That was low, even for you.”

“Are you really surprised? Now, get out.”

Cole turned on his heel and left the office, leaving Logan just the way he wanted to be—alone. As he moved over to the window, he wondered when exactly he had decided that being alone was all he deserved.

* * *

Tate hit End on the call and threw his phone on the couch, cursing Logan and admonishing himself. How could I have been so damn stupid? This whole thing had disaster written all over it from the beginning.

But after last night, he’d thought—

What? That Logan was serious about all of this? That he cared? Well, there you go. There’s your fucking wake-up call. Loud enough for you?

Tate tried to block out everything he’d heard, and he jumped slightly when the phone beside him started to ring. Looking down at the screen, he saw it was Logan. He picked it up and hit Answer, but he remained silent.

“Tate? You there?”

Tate closed his eyes and turned to lie down on the couch.

“Hello? If you don’t answer me, I’m going to call the cops and tell them to go check my condo just in case you were attacked or—”

“Shut up, Logan,” Tate finally cut him off. He wasn’t going to lay there and act like everything was fine just because Logan was putting on one hell of a show.

“What’s wrong with you?” Logan had the audacity to ask.

Tate couldn’t help the snide tone that crept into his voice. “Oh, nothing serious.”

There was a lengthy pause and then, “Well, obviously, something’s wrong.”

“And obviously, I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Um, what the fuck, Tate?”

Infuriated at himself and Logan, Tate sneered through the phone, “Exactly. What the fuck? Maybe we should go and get Cole for this? Make it a conference call. He seems to know all about our relationship. But hang on, we don’t have one of those, do we? It’s just some fun?”

From the silence that stretched through the phone, Tate knew that Logan had no clue that he’d heard his recent conversation with Cole. He was about to inform him when Logan’s bad temper seemed to finally catch up and he lashed out at him.

“Don’t fuck around with me, Tate. I’m not in the mood.”

That was the exact moment that Tate felt his own rage boil. “Well good, Logan, because I’m not in the mood for you either. You might want to check your recent calls, asshole. Have a nice fucking day.”

With that, Tate ended the call and threw his phone onto the floor. Don’t fuck around with you? Fine by me, Mr. Mitchell, fine by me.

If Logan had to make a list of things he hated, it would include being hung up on and being ignored. Tate had done both of those in the last three hours. He’d tried calling him back several times after their not-so-pleasant conversation, and the stubborn ass had let all of his calls go to voice mail where, of course, he’d left seven different messages.

Christ, how was I supposed to know I hit Call instead of Ignore earlier? Plus, Tate had it all wrong. Logan hadn’t meant things the way they’d sounded. Tate just needed to hear him out.

Opening the door to the bar, Logan stepped inside and noticed it was quiet for a Wednesday night. Good, he thought, it will make it easier for us to talk.

Making his way over to his usual spot, the first person he saw was Amelia.

She gave him a small wave as she walked over and then stopped in front of him. “Evening, Logan.”

Logan was not in the mood for small talk. “Hey. Is he here?”

Amelia sucked her top lip into her mouth and grabbed a glass. “Gin and tonic?”

Annoyed at her change of topic, Logan nodded and tried again. “Amelia?”

She mixed the drink, and slid it over to him. “He told me to take your orders tonight.”

Logan’s jaw actually hurt from how hard he clenched it shut. He looked down the length of the bar, but he saw no sign of Tate. He turned on his stool and looked around the dimly lit area, and still, no Tate. Where is he?

As Logan faced Amelia once again, his eye caught Tate walking out from the back hall. He threw a towel over his shoulder and made his way up to the counter with a smile for—Logan turned to check—a redhead with huge—

“Logan?”

“What?” he snapped, aiming his glare at the woman in front of him.

“You want anything else?”

Logan picked up the glass, brought it to his lips, and before taking a drink, he mumbled, “No.”

Amelia leaned across to him, as Logan continued to sit, irate.

Once upon a time, he would have been looking at a way to get her out the back, but now, all he could do was think about how she could help get Tate to talk to him again.

“He’s been looking at the door all evening, if that helps.”

It did, but Logan wasn’t going to admit it. Instead, he brought his eyes to hers and hated the fact that they no longer did anything for him.

“Tell him I’m here?”

Amelia stepped back with a laugh. “Oh, he knows. That’s why he went out the back.” She started to walk away, and then at the last moment, she looked back at him. “It’s nice to finally see you having to work for the attention.”

Logan raised his glass to take a sip, and eyed Tate as he continued laughing with the redhead. Yes, he’d worked damn hard for Tate’s attention, and he would be fucked if someone else stole it—even for five minutes.