But no matter what Logan told himself, he did feel it. The longer he watched Rebecca and her nephew, the harder it was to keep his mouth shut and not to snap at her to mind her own business. He didn’t like how small Andrew looked in this house. He didn’t like the way his shoulders were hunched defensively, the way his confidence seemed to completely disappear the longer they were there. It rubbed Logan the wrong way, made him want to put himself between Andrew and this woman and growl. It was pure instinct, no matter how ridiculous and bizarre it was, an instinct that was becoming harder to suppress with every minute.
Finally, he stood and said tersely, “Thanks for the tea, but we should go.” He grabbed Andrew’s wrist and pulled him to his feet, ignoring the startled, wide-eyed look Andrew shot him.
Rebecca looked at Logan for the first time in a while, her lips flattened into a line. “We? Truth be told, I’m a little lost. I’m not sure why you and my nephew are still associating, Logan. I understand that you were forced to coexist on the island in order to survive, but surely continuing such association is… inadvisable. Andrew needs to move on with his life, leave the island in the past.”
Logan smiled at her, aware that it wasn’t a very nice smile. It probably looked a little feral. He didn’t care; he was too pissed off to care that he was being rude. It didn’t matter that he’d come to similar conclusions himself—that he needed to keep his distance from the mess of a human being Andrew was—he was too annoyed now to agree with this woman on anything.
“We became close on the island,” he said, taking perverse pleasure in watching her frown in distaste. “After living in each other’s pockets for so long, I’m afraid now I can’t even sleep without him drooling all over my chest.”
Rebecca flushed, then paled, and shot her nephew an appalled look.
Andrew’s face was red as a tomato. He opened his mouth and then closed it without saying anything, his wide-eyed gaze unable to meet his aunt’s. For a moment, Logan felt a twinge of guilt, but it wasn’t as though he was admitting something obscene. Rebecca would probably just laugh at his words if he weren’t gay. It was her own bigotry that was making her assume gay men were incapable of friendship and affection. And she obviously thought Andrew shouldn’t have let a gay man anywhere near him.
“Come on,” Logan said, laying a hand on Andrew’s nape and steering him toward the door.
Andrew didn’t resist, just mumbled a goodbye to his aunt. She didn’t say anything.
As soon as they were outside, it was as though Andrew was a completely different person. He whirled around and glared at Logan. “What the hell was that?”
Logan’s lips twitched. He much preferred this Andrew to the doormat he had become around his aunt. He shrugged. “What? I simply told her the truth. Or was it supposed to be a secret? You did drool on my chest.”
Andrew huffed, his lips pursing, before he stomped toward Logan’s car.
Logan followed him at a more sedate pace, feeling more amused than the situation called for. Christ, had he really missed these hissy fits? Was this… fondness? Affection?
His smile fading, Logan got into the driver’s seat and started the engine. He said, without looking at Andrew, “It was your idea. I had no intention of meeting your bigoted aunt. You all but begged me to come with you.”
“I didn’t,” Andrew said, sounding a little choked up. “I didn’t beg you. I don’t need you.”
Logan’s lips thinned. He stared at the car in front of them. “Denying it is kind of pointless when all the evidence points to the contrary.”
“You arrogant, conceited—! No one forced you to stay and make it look like we’re best friends or—or worse.”
“Or worse,” Logan said flatly. “Will it really be the end of the world if she finds out you’re bisexual?”
He’d expected an immediate denial, but it didn’t come.
The light turned red, and Logan took the opportunity to look at him.
Andrew was looking down at his own hands, his brows furrowed, a curl falling into his eyes.
“No objections?” Logan said.
“Do you really think…?” Andrew looked up. “You really think I’m bi?”
Logan returned his gaze to the road. “I know you liked to pretend I was forcing you to suck my dick, but surely you don’t still think that?”
When silence was the only response, Logan chuckled harshly. “All right, it’s none of my business. You’re none of my business.” Maybe if he repeated it often enough, he might finally start acting like it. God, he couldn’t wait.
Silence fell again, thick with something heavy and charged.
It started raining.
Logan’s hands clenched on the steering wheel. “Back to the hotel?” he said, his voice harsher than he had intended.