Alcohol could do a lot of things to a person - make them brave, bold, stupid. Logan had been through the spectrum which ultimately had been the reason he did his best to stay away from the sauce. Beer was safer. Whiskey was like a cold handed lover who could rip your soul out before you knew it was no longer yours to give to God. Right now, though, Logan was feeling cautious. Not any particular reason other than that small shift close had his muscles tensing. People generally didn’t get close unless they wanted something - and this fellow did want something. To converse.
A moment of studying and Logan shifted his foot, sliding his boot from the seat to leave it vacant. A silent invitation decide to be extended at the very last, clouded moment.
His frame would twist forward. Logan dropped his gaze to the tiny cup on the bar, shoulders hunched over as he processed the words uttered. “Logan,” was offered. Swallowing, he emitted a breath and glanced up and over at Ehren again. A hand would be lifted, extended, and the barest of shakes would be offered before he was pulling back, away, as if he would pass a plague on to the other man. “I couldn’t remember yours either. No hard feelings.”