Page 30 of The Risk Taker

“Aw,” Logan says with a grin. “Just say you missed me.”

I hear the sound of Austin trudging down the stairs a few seconds later.

“Why does it smell like burnt ass in here?”

Logan rolls his eyes. “Jesus. You guys are so fucking dramatic. It’s just eggs.”

Austin scoffs. “Pretty sure eggs aren’t supposed to smell like that, man.”

“They were fine,” Logan says, crossing his arms over his bare chest, that I definitely don’t glance at as I plate up the omelet. “Then Hayes came over like the control-freak he is and took over.”

Ryan pours coffee into a mug and tops it off with enough milk to make it practically beige. “I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say going near a stove was your first mistake.”

“Rude,” Logan says. “I have skills.”

Austin barks out a laugh. “Name one.”

“Sex,” Logan fires back, grinning.

My brain flashes straight to the dream—his hands, his mouth—and I have to look away fast.

“Fair enough,” Austin replies with a chuckle. “Can’t really argue with that. It’s not like I’ve got proof otherwise.”

Ryan groans. “Jesus, can we not talk about Logan’s sex life before breakfast?”

I take a long sip of coffee. “You’re lucky you don’t share a wall with him,” I say dryly. “You don’t have to listen to the moaning until all hours of the night.”

Logan grins, meeting my eyes. “See?” he says, flashing me a wink. “Even Hayes agrees I’m good at sex.”

The coffee goes down wrong, catching in my throat. “What? I—no, that’s not—” I cough, heat crawling up my neck. “That’s not what I said.”

He just chuckles, completely unaware of the chaos in my head. “Pretty sure you did.”

I shoot him a glare. “Your hearing’s broken.”

Austin leans back, eyeing us warily. “Is this foreplay I’m witnessing?”

Logan just chuckles without even sparing a glance my way. “Relax, man. Hayes isn’t my type. Too broody.”

Austin lets out a chuckle as he cuts into half the omelet and starts inhaling it like he hasn’t eaten in days. Ryan pushes off the counter, muttering something about needing a shower, and disappears upstairs.

Logan sits across from me, bending his head as he digs into what’s left of breakfast, and my gaze catches on him before I can stop it.

The way his jaw flexes when he bites. The slow movement of his throat when he swallows. The line of muscle that shifts beneath his skin when he reaches for a glass of water.

I grip my mug tighter and rip my eyes away, busying myself with washing the dishes.

Fucking hell. What is wrong with me?

He’s my teammate. My roommate.A guy.

It’s nothing. Ithasto be nothing.

9

LOGAN

Most days, working at the Bean Scene’s an easy shift.