Chapter 8 Logan
LOGAN
The fire crackles softly in the hearth, its steady warmth a stark contrast to the frozen world outside.
The snow continues to fall, but the whistling wind has finally quieted.
The world feels hushed, as if the storm has settled into a peaceful slumber, leaving just Rosie and me, wrapped in this moment of tranquility.
She’s sitting on the other end of the couch facing me, a glass of wine in her hand.
The dim light from the fire dances across her face, highlighting the delicate curves of her cheekbones and the softness in her eyes.
She stretches her legs out beside mine, wiggling her knee-high-fuzzy-sock-covered toes.
I grab her left foot and start rubbing the arch.
“Oh, mama,” she gasps.
I smirk, bringing her other foot to my lap, rubbing that one with my other hand. “Feel good?”
A dreamy smile plays on her lips. “If you keep spoiling me like this, I may never let you out of my sight.”
“I see no problem with that.” I wink.
Rosie chuckles. “Careful what you wish for, Edwards.”
“Right back atcha, Morales.”
Except for an occasional moan from Rosie’s lips as I rub her feet, we sit in comfortable silence for a while longer. I study her face, the sight of her looking so relaxed and at ease triggers a memory I haven’t thought about in years.
“Remember the old treehouse in your backyard?” I ask, my voice a little rough around the edges.
Rosie’s eyes light up with recognition. “Of course I do. I was bummed when my dad tore it down. Stupid wood rot.”
“Me too,” I say. “We had some good times up there.”
She smiles, sipping her wine before speaking again. “You mean our secret dirty rendezvous?”
“I wish they were dirty.” I laugh. “How did that become our thing, anyway? I can’t remember.”
“Neither can I.” Rosie shrugs.
“Our conversations up there were the best part of my day most days.”
“Same.” She nods, her expression turning wistful. “It always felt like we were in our own little cocoon. Nothing in the world could touch us.”
“I didn’t care how cramped it was. I could’ve stayed up there with you all night.”
Her full lips curve into a smile. “I know the feeling.”
“Remember the time I stole a bottle of whiskey from my dad’s liquor cabinet?”
Rosie laughs, nodding her head. “God, yes. The summer before my junior year. That was the very first time I ever tasted alcohol. I didn’t even like it, but I wanted to seem cool in front of you.”
“Yeah, I kinda figured that out when you took a monster swig and couldn’t stop coughing afterward.” I chuckle at the memory. “We were so convinced we were being grown-ups.”
She laughs again. “We were such dorks.”
“Yeah, but we had fun,” I say, my tone turning more serious. “I have a confession.”
“What’s that?”
“I was planning to kiss you that night after I downed a little liquid courage.”
Her brown eyes widen. “Seriously? Why didn’t you?”
“I chickened out,” I answer with a shrug. “And then we both got a little too shitfaced. Christ, that treehouse was the setting for most of my teenage fantasies.”
“I bet.” Rosie snorts. “It was the perfect hideaway. I’m pretty sure my brother lost his virginity in it.”
“He did,” I confirm. “To Chelsea Caldwell. Then he continued using that treehouse to hook up with your fellow cheerleaders and half the dance team. He went really wild during our graduation party and brought a cheerleader and a girl from the dance squad up there. Now that I think about it, it was quite the den of iniquity during our senior year, thanks to him.”
“Ew.” Rosie crinkles her nose, like she’s sucking on something sour. “I really didn’t need to know that. Why do you know that?”
I laugh. “Ryan was a cocky little shit with a big mouth. Thankfully, he’s grown up, and no longer regales me with stories of his conquests. But let’s just say I know far too many details about his sex life back then.”
Ryan was one of those dudes who got along with everybody—still is, really. And unlike me, he was not an ugly duckling in high school. Far from it, and the fucker knew it. He didn’t need to play sports or join a clique. People were naturally drawn to his charming ass, so they sought him out.
Most days, we hung out at his house after school because he preferred to just chill, but on weekends, if one of our classmates was throwing a party, he’d be there, looking for weed or girls.
He dragged me to a beach party once, and I felt so out of my element, I avoided them at all costs after that.
But no matter how popular Ryan was, it never impeded our friendship.
He’s always been more than a best friend to me—he’s like the brother I never had.
And growing up, I spent more time with him than with anyone else, including Rosie.
Back then, it was easier to bury my feelings for her because I didn’t want to betray him. But now? Hell, now I’m actively crossing the line. And I can’t stop thinking about what might happen if this doesn’t work out. It’s not just my relationship with Rosie on the line—it’s my bond with Ryan, too.
But then I look at her, radiant and so damn sure, and I know I’d regret not trying more than anything Ryan could throw my way. If there’s one thing I’ve learned this weekend, it’s that Rosie is worth the risk. She always has been.
Rosie jabs my arm with her finger, snapping me out of my thoughts. “So, how many girls did you hook up with in high school?”
“You mean besides Palmela?” I wiggle the fingers on my right hand, making her laugh. “None.”
Rosie’s laughter fades, replaced by a curious look. “Seriously?”
I nod. “Dead ass.”
“Why not?”
I look her straight in the eye. “Because right before I had the balls to finally make a move on the only girl I wanted, she started dating Cody Warren. And she didn’t stop dating him until I was already at Stanford.”
A crease forms between her brows. “But I was dating Cody Warren right before you left for Stanford.”
“Bingo.” I fire off quick finger guns with a playful wink.
Rosie’s face falls. “Logan, if I had known…I never would have…I was only with Cody because I thought…God, I lost my…”
I lean forward and press my index finger to her lips, silencing that train of thought. “It’s in the past, Pip. We could ponder all the what-ifs for days. Trust me, I’ve been there, done that. But you know what I’ve learned over the years?”
Rosie sets her wineglass on the table and crawls onto my lap, legs hanging off to the side. “What?”
I trace the delicate curve of her jaw. “Hindsight has a way of putting things into perspective. Remember what I said about timing?”
She nods.
“Well…as ecstatic as I would’ve been if we’d been together in high school—or hell, even college—the timing would’ve been awful.
I may be a so-called genius, but I was an absolute dumb fuck when it came to interpersonal relations back then.
And honestly? My self-confidence was shit, which only made it worse.
I needed the time to mature into the man I am today. ”
“Why was your self-confidence shit?” Rosie waves a hand toward me. “Have you seen you?”
I laugh, planting a kiss on the top of her head. “My self-confidence is just fine, now.”
“I’ll say,” she snorts.
I clear my throat. “But back then, not so much.”
“Why not? You were adorable back in high school.”
I groan. “Adorable? Just what every teenage boy wants to hear from the girl he’s been crushing on for years.”
She blushes, a small, self-conscious smile playing on her lips. “But you were adorable. And smart. And funny. And sweet.”
“And scrawny. And awkward,” I add. “You were so out of my fucking league, Pip. You still are, but I’m cocky enough now to go for it, anyway.”
“Well…I disagree. If you would’ve made a move on me back in high school, I definitely would’ve been into it.” She stretches her neck to kiss me. “You were, hands down, my favorite person.”
“Were?” I smile against her lips. “How high do I rank on your list of favorites now?”
“You’re pretty high up there, Logan. That’s never changed.” The warmth in her voice, the sincerity in her dark chocolate eyes—hits me like a punch to the gut.
I look at her, really look at her, and I see the same girl I used to sit with in that tree house, but I also see the woman she’s become.
One who’s had her heart broken, who’s carved her own path in the world, who’s still a big part of my life after all these years.
Without thinking, I lean in, my lips finding hers.
Rosie responds immediately, her hand grasping the back of my neck, pulling me closer.
The fire pops in the hearth, its warmth wrapping around us as we kiss, a quiet exchange of unspoken promises.
“What happens when we get back to LA?” she asks softly, pulling back slightly to look at me. “Does what happens in Tahoe stay in Tahoe?”
“That’s up to you,” I reply, searching her eyes, trying to read her emotions.
“But just so you’re clear on where I stand, I don’t want to give this up when we get home.
The location doesn’t matter, Rosie. Tahoe, LA, Abu Dhabi—wherever we are, it doesn’t change the fact that I want this.
I want you. But I understand if you’re not ready.
If you’re not looking for anything serious being so fresh out of a relationship.
Whatever you’re comfortable with, I’m good. ”
Unless she tells me she wants to call it quits.
That would really fucking suck. I can’t predict the future, but one thing I’m certain of is that I don’t want to go back to a life without this woman in my arms. Now that I know what being with Rosie feels like, no other woman will ever compare.
I know that in my gut. She filled a void I didn’t even know existed before this weekend.
But if she needs time, I’ll give her time.
I’ve already waited half a lifetime for this opportunity.
A little while longer is nothing in the grand scheme of things.