Casually, Logan walked over to his side of the booth, leaned down slightly, and relayed in a tone that made Tate look twice, “I don’t expect you to announce this to everyone. Hell, I don’t even want that. But if you ever pull away from my hand again, like I have the fucking plague, don’t be surprised by my reaction.” Catching his breath, Tate dared to ask, “Which will be?” “Depending on my mood? Either a quick lesson on how much you like my hands or my back as I walk the fuck away.”
