Page 23 of Wedding Wrecker

“I enjoy cooking. My dad died when I was just a kid, so Mom was working a lot. My siblings and I had to do lots of household chores because of that. And once I realized I don’t want to eat mediocre food, it was easy enough to learn from the internet.”

“Oh. I’m sorry about your dad.” His body language softens a little and he leans back on the sofa. The way he follows my every move though, is no less unnerving than before.

I shrug, and as I walk back to the kitchen, I can’t shake off the feeling he is watching me with the same kind of hunger I ogle him with. “That’s okay. I don’t remember him well, you know. I think Jude and Olivia miss him much more, because they actually got to know him.”

The pan’s smoking, so I quickly pour in some oil, and then place both steaks in, smiling at the pleasant sizzle they make.

I hear Logan’s footsteps and imagine him coming into the kitchen to hug me from behind as I’m cooking. I’m such a sap.

He stands nearby and watches the pan. “Jude’s got some interesting ideas about gay men. Did you share them?”

I swallow and wash my hands as my stomach drops. “We never really had a reason to discuss such things.”

“Because it was obvious to him his little baby brother couldn’t be gay?”

The open way he speaks about these things is so overwhelming I don’t know what to do with myself, but at least in the kitchen, I can keep my hands busy.

“Yeah. He always thinks he knows better. Mom’s just as confident as him. It wasn’t really something I needed to share with them,” I say, watching the meat sear.

“So you did know?” Logan leans against the counter and folds his arms on his chest. He looks so good in the warm light of the kitchen, like this could be our kitchen, and it feels so intimate to talk to him here.

My mouth dries, because I know exactly what he's asking. “I mean… Girls are nice and pretty. But I knew I also liked guys. I tested myself looking at pictures online, but Mom found out, and um—” I stall as my tongue stiffens. “She didn’t like it.”

Understatement of the century.

Logan cocks his head at me. “What do you mean? What did she do?”

I flip the steaks, struggling to keep my expression neutral, because it was one of the most traumatic evenings in my life. Seven years have passed since, but I don’t think I can look back at that day with anything but sorrow. “Well, you know... there was a lot of shouting involved. I’m happy Jude and Olivia were not in. I told her I also like girls, and she seemed relieved. We had this long chat about my future, and I decided I should just keep my hands off men.”

Logan grabs himself a grape from the basket of fruit on the counter and pops it in his mouth. “So why didn’t you?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before adding “How’s the sex with Madison?”

My hands shake, but I sear the sides of the steaks as dark spots congregate at the edge of my vision. “It’s... I mean it’s sex, right? It feels good. Why do you need to know?”

Please, don’t ask me how it compares to sex with you, I beg deep inside. Because there’s no comparison. It’s like trying to weigh buttered toast against a juicy hog roast with all the trimmings. They’re both good in their own way, but it’s very clear one tastes better than the other.

Logan shakes his head. “You might think I’m being a shit to you, and for the record, you deserve it, but I’m trying to save you from a very bad decision. You could hardly name things you love about Madison today.”

I clear my throat and leave the steaks to crush an unpeeled clove of garlic. I toss it into the pan, along with sprigs of thyme brought from my herb garden, and proceed to cut some butter as the air becomes fragrant. “I will get to know her better once we move in together. It’s only been a year. Also, you just caught me off guard.”

“Did I now? So you’re set on this wedding?”

In the most surreal move I couldn’t have anticipated, Logan steps closer and slides his hand into the back pocket of my jeans. I grab the edge of the counter as I drop the knife. His touch is like aromatic syrup poured over my tongue, and I can’t resist it.

“Logan, I want a family. And Madison’s libido’s… not that big. We’re gonna be just fine as a couple,” I say, though I’m not sure if I’m not saying this to convince myself that I’m not the bad guy. The butter goes into the pan, and I watch it melt, trying to ignore the hot presence at my back.

My cock is already getting slightly hard.

He groans and backs off, making me want to follow his hand. He is the most intoxicating man I’ve ever met. “Do you want a family, or do you want a wife pregnant with your baby? Because you can have a family with a man. Sure, it’s harder, but not impossible.”

“Really? How many happy gay couples with children do you know?” I ask, and baste the steaks with melted butter, glad it gives me something to do with my hands, because I’m overheating with the implications of his arguments. I’ve thought about it for many years, and now he’s throwing me a curveball.

His silence gives me bitter vindication.

“One,” he says in the end. “But it’s not like straight relationships are a bed of roses.”

“I know they aren’t. Relationships are hard work, and I was never afraid of that. I know that on TV gay people have kids all the time, but the reality is that it’s not something that will just naturally happen. There’s a lot of hurdles on the way, and I just want someone who will be mine, and who wants a family.”

I let go of the steak and shake my hands to curb their trembling, but he’s still staring, still questioning my choices, so I go on. “I was angry when Mom told me I can only find what I want with a woman. But she’s right. I can’t chase something that’s impossible, just because it feels good. And don’t judge me, because you also tried to get married. Maybe I’ll have more luck.” So it’s a bit harsh, but I’m on edge.