Logan didn’t know why, but he loved the way his name rolled off that pissed-off tongue. Tate’s head snapped toward him, and Logan met his glare head-on. By the time you were in the room, it was too late for me to get up and leave without making you lose your focus.” Making his way carefully around the table until he was standing with only several chairs between them, Logan reiterated, “I didn’t know who you were, I swear. Logan observed closely as Tate raised a hand to run it through his hair-a gesture Logan was now realizing came from nerves or agitation. I had no clue until you walked in the room today.” Tate was dressed in faded jeans and a blue T-shirt under his leather jacket. Logan pushed his jacket aside and stuffed his hands into his pockets as he took a moment to really look at the enraged man across from him.
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