Chapter 6 #6
Adrian didn’t speak right away. But, after a deep breath, he relaxed enough and let his head rest on Logan’s shoulder, their height difference making it nearly unnoticeable.
The bus filled with stories and laughter, the boards in the trunk thudding softly whenever the road curved.
The scent of sea salt and sunscreen mingled with the faint tang of gasoline.
Everyone was friendly enough, legs tangled, water bottles rolling on the floor, voices rising and falling with the road’s rhythm.
Tales of wild adventures and mishaps spilled into the air—missed flights, stolen flip-flops, jellyfish stings.
Adrian’s friends added their stories from cities where no one spoke their language, miming out misunderstandings to howls of laughter.
They spoke mostly in English, and when someone tripped over an unfamiliar word, Adrian would lean toward Logan, his voice warm with laughter, translating with a grin.
Logan found himself laughing so hard at one story that his ribs ached—a story of Adrian mistaking a friend’s girlfriend for his mother.
“She looked old enough!” Adrian defended himself, red-faced with laughter. “She called him sweetie!”
“You told them that is so nice that he took his mom out on Friday night! That she must love her son!”
“But she was 42 years old. I was not wrong!” Adrian kept on insisting that his mistake was justified.
“They broke up after that!”
“That’s nothing,” said the guy sitting next to Jack, Leo. “You don’t know what I’ve been through with this idiot. The other night, he was so drunk he couldn’t even stand. We were at this party, and he swore up and down he’d crash at the hotel.”
Jack groaned. “You’re exaggerating—”
“Shut up, I’m telling it,” Leo grinned. “So he leaves the party, completely shit-faced, like wobbling, eyes in two different time zones. I figured he made it back okay.”
Everyone leaned in.
Leo continued, “Next thing I know, I get a call at four in the morning. Jack’s panicking, yelling something about screams and police and that I need to bring towels.”
Jack slapped a hand over his face, already laughing. “It’s not what it sounds like—”
“It’s exactly what it sounds like,” Leo cut in. “He went into the wrong hotel. Walked straight into the honeymoon suite. Got butt naked, climbed into bed, passed out.”
Laughter erupted up and down the bus.
Jack was doubled over now, tears in his eyes. “I woke up to screaming, man! Like, murder-movie screaming. The wife’s freaking out, the husband starts chasing me—”
“—and he ran naked down the street,” Leo said triumphantly.
“I never got those clothes back,” Jack muttered, laughing helplessly.
Logan had to wipe his eyes, his chest shaking. Even Adrian was howling now, head thrown back against the seat.
“You’re lucky you didn’t end up on some island watchlist,” Dean chimed in, snorting.
“That man had a machete by the bed!” Jack cried. “A fucking machete! Who the hell sleeps next to a machete?”
“Oh, I think I’ve got a better one,” said Amelia, one of the Australian surfers, grinning as she turned in her seat. She jabbed a finger behind her. “Brad,” she called out, pointing to the wiry New Zealander lounging in the row behind her. “Lost a bet in Spain.”
“Please don’t,” Brad groaned, already sinking lower in his seat.
“Shut it,” she laughed. “He had to surf for a week in this tiny pink Speedo. No boardshorts. No shame. I swear, it looked like a piece of bubblegum trying to hang on for dear life.”
The bus burst into laughter.
“He’d strut down the beach like he was on a damn catwalk,” she went on, “and that thing barely covered his, well, let’s just say, the entire beach was very aware of Brad that week.”
“I have nothing to hide,” he bragged, clearly deciding to own it.
“You got kicked off the beach by day two!” she added, wiping tears from her eyes.
Brad grinned, sitting up with a wink. “Yeah, but not before I got more phone numbers than a nightclub bouncer. Those Speedos did their job. My dignity didn’t survive, but my dick thrived.”
“Your junk almost fell off.”
“Were you looking closely?” Bred leaned forward, locking eyes with Amelia. “I’ve got nothing to hide. I’ll wear them right now if you’re interested. Might just sweeten your vacation.”
Amelia laughed, tossing a rolled-up towel at him. “Save it for the next lost bet, Romeo.”
“I say wear them!” Jack called from the back. “Somebody bet Bred already so he can lose!”
“I’d pay not to see that,” Dean muttered dryly.
“That’s okay, baby,” Bred fired back. “Just send a pic to your mama, she’d love it.”
The bus erupted again, laughter bouncing off the windows as someone fake-gagged and someone else called Bred a national hazard. Even the driver cracked a grin in the rearview mirror.
But the laughter didn’t drown out the sidelong glances Itay shot Logan’s way.
His eyes were like shadows at the edge of his vision—curious, maybe a little wary.
Logan felt Itay judging him, questioning his presence here, intruding in the world Adrian had shared with them long before Logan entered the picture.
He noticed the way Itay sought Adrian’s attention, leaning too close, his gaze intent and glassy, as though he could still lay some claim to Adrian’s loyalty.
Gradually, the bus quieted, voices drifting to murmurs and the soft clicks of scrolling phones.
Logan’s eyelids grew heavy, his head tipping against the cool glass of the window.
As he turned slightly, he caught Adrian’s eyes on him, that familiar, steady gaze watching him, calm as a quiet sea.
Adrian leaned close, his voice a barely-there whisper in Logan’s ear.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his breath brushing against Logan’s skin, warm and intimate as he spoke directly to his ear. “I didn’t know Itay would be here today. If I’d known... we wouldn’t have come.”
Logan nodded, his heart tightening with questions that lodged in his throat, thoughts he couldn’t bring himself to voice.
Was Adrian remembering this morning, when they’d lingered in the haze of dawn?
Did he wonder, as Logan did, what it would be like to spend a lazy morning wrapped in each other’s warmth, to let their moments stretch?
“Dean’s the best,” Adrian continued softly. “But he’s… he has a hard time with new people. And I told him I wanted to travel alone, so I think he’s… surprised.”
Logan didn’t miss the way Adrian’s voice dropped to that quiet, vulnerable tone.
He felt Adrian’s breath warm against his skin, seeping into him, twisting him up inside.
The soft edge to Adrian’s voice, the subtle heat of his body close beside him—it all felt like a choice, a silent confirmation that Logan wasn’t just a passenger on this journey.
Logan felt his insides getting warm and tingling at the thought of Adrian choosing him, of him occupying more space in Adrian’s life, more of his time, his essence.
“So… why me?” Logan blurted out before he could catch himself.
They’d spent countless hours together, side by side on beaches and in crowded markets, in the unspoken camaraderie of the waves.
They laughed at the same things, moved with an ease that felt as if they’d known each other for years.
But this—this was something else. This was a space where the air hung heavy with unsaid things, where even silence seemed to hint at more.
Adrian didn’t answer. Instead, he just looked at Logan, his eyes soft, glinting like sunlight over the water.
There was something shy in his smile, a faint color rising to his cheeks, and Logan felt his heart lurch, as though it were reaching toward something deep and elusive.
That look held the answer—an answer so fragile, so close, that he could almost feel it, like the sea’s hush just before the wave breaks.
The rumble of the bus lulled Logan into a state where thoughts softened and exhaustion crept in, blurring the edges of reality.
His hand lay inches from Adrian’s, the memory of Itay’s touch still fresh and bitter as salt on his mind.
Itay, with his lingering hand on Adrian’s hip, his gaze that knew too much, the weight of a history Logan could only guess at.
In a small, reckless moment, Logan bridged the distance.
His fingers slipped into Adrian’s, hesitant yet resolute, like a swimmer diving into deep water, unsure of what might be waiting below the surface.
And then it was done; their fingers laced together, a simple, miraculous knot.
Logan felt Adrian’s hand jolt in surprise, his breath hitching.
For a second, Logan feared Adrian would pull away, but instead, Adrian’s fingers tightened around his, firm and warm, an anchor in the restless current of Logan’s feelings.
Logan felt the ground beneath him steady, felt something profound settle in his chest, filling the space where doubt had been.
Boldness sparked through him, and he allowed himself to drift closer, leaning his head against Adrian’s shoulder.
His eyes closed as he let his face rest in the crook of Adrian’s neck, breathing in the scent of ocean and sunbaked skin.
Here, leaning into Adrian, he was weightless, as if every insecurity, every unknown, had been swept out by the tide. And beneath the pulse of Adrian’s breath, he could hear the sea inside him, a vastness he was no longer afraid of, a feeling as deep and powerful as the ocean’s pull.
He opened his eyes, taking in the sight of their tangled fingers.
It felt like a revelation, the kind that’s known in the body long before it reaches the mind.
This connection, simple yet anchoring, was a wordless answer to all his silent questions.
And Adrian was watching him, his lips softening into a smile that felt like sunrise over still water, warm and open, unfurling something in Logan’s chest that had been knotted tight for too long.