Logan grabbed his own bag.
“Yeah,” he said quietly.
Chase glanced at him.
Logan met his eyes.
“I figured.”
For a second they stood there, the quiet of the locker room settling around them.
Then Logan pushed the door open and nodded toward the exit.
“Come on,” he said.
Chase followed him out.
And somewhere between the squat racks and the parking lot, Logan realized something had already shifted.
Chase didn’t just want Tommy.
He understood him.
That made everything else a lot easier to consider.
Chapter Eleven
Chase
The locker room smelled faintly of soap and sweat, the post-workout rush already thinning out as evening crept closer.
Chase dropped onto the bench and tugged his shirt over his head, still catching his breath from their last set.
Logan opened the locker beside him.
“You showering?” Logan asked, already pulling a towel free.
“Yeah,” Chase said. “I’m not getting back in my car like this.”
Logan laughed under his breath. “Good. I’d judge you.”
They changed in comfortable silence at first, the normal rhythm of a locker room. Shoes kicked aside. Fabric rustling. Metal doors clanging shut somewhere farther down the row.
But normal didn’t stay normal long.
Chase became aware of Logan moving beside him in fragments, broad shoulders turning, the quiet stretch of muscle as he reached into his bag, the easy confidence of someone completely at home in his body.
He told himself not to look.
Which immediately made him look.
Just a glance.
Quick.
Harmless.
Logan caught it anyway.
