Chapter 11 Rosalie
ROSALIE
The cabin feels impossibly quiet as I pull on my coat and set my bag by the front door.
It’s early; the sun is barely peeking over the snow-covered pines, lighting up the room in a soft glow.
I sigh, feeling the weight of my impending departure.
This weekend was everything I never expected—everything I never knew I needed—but now it’s over, and it’s time to jump back into reality.
I rub at the ache over my sternum, not ready to say goodbye.
Unfortunately, I don’t have much of a choice because my flight takes off in a few hours, and I need time to return my car to the rental agency.
Logan wanted to drive with me to the airport, insisting he could take an Uber back to the cabin, but I knew saying goodbye would be easier if we didn’t make a big deal out of it.
It’s not like this is the end for us. Logan and I are both on the same page.
We want to explore this new dynamic we’ve established, even if we have to keep it between us for now.
I’m sure the next five days will fly by because I’ll be so busy at work.
It really isn’t a big deal. So why am I being so damn emotional?
I close my eyelids and take a deep breath, tuning into my senses. The fireplace crackling softly, the smell of charred wood mixing with the pine-scented air. God, it’s already starting to feel like a distant memory.
My misty eyes pop open when Logan’s footsteps pull me from my thoughts. He takes one look at me, and I know—I just know—he’s reading my mind right now.
He crosses the room in a few long strides, pulling me into a hug. “You’re killing me, Pip. Are you sure I can’t drive with you? It’ll give us an extra hour before we have to say goodbye.”
“I’m sure.” I squeeze him back, burying my face in his chest for just a moment longer. “I’ll be fine, Logan. I’ll see you as soon as you get back home.”
“I’m holding you to that,” he promises, crouching down to cup my face in both hands.
Today his everchanging irises are more of a burnished bronze, barely a hint of green exists.
“Don’t overthink it, Rosie. We’ll figure out how to make this work.
As far as I’m concerned, there’s no other option. You hear me?”
I nod, holding back a sob as his lips meet mine in the sweetest kiss.
I reluctantly pull away, already missing the comfort of being in his strong arms, but I need to hit the road if I’m going to make my flight.
I straighten my shoulders and take a steadying breath.
With one last look at Logan, I grab my bag and step outside into the cold morning air.
The snow crunches under my boots as I walk toward my rented SUV, the icy chill a stark contrast to the heat I felt in Logan’s arms moments before.
I throw my bag into the back, slide into the driver’s seat, and start the engine.
As I pull the car around, my eyes flicker to my rearview mirror.
Logan is standing on the front porch, watching me drive away, a solemn look on his face.
I raise my hand in a small wave, but I don’t trust myself not to go back if I linger too long, so I hit the gas and head for the main road.
I don’t bother turning any music on or even calling my cousin to make the miles go by faster.
My mind is too preoccupied wandering back to the cabin, to the memory of Logan’s hands on my skin, simultaneously heating me up and sending chills down my spine.
His lips tasting and teasing, yet bringing me the greatest relief I’d ever known.
The way we moved together, so exhilarating, yet so comfortable, as if we’d been intimate a thousand times before.
It’s all so confusing, but at the same time, it makes so much damn sense.
But right along the edges of those warm memories, reality tugs at me, persistent and impossible to ignore.
No matter how effortless this weekend felt, the situation is complicated, and it’s bound to get messy at some point.
Our jobs alone are demanding enough. Throwing my family, our shared history, and a secret relationship into the mix is just asking for trouble.
But the thought of walking away? I can’t picture myself doing that.
A text notification dings from my phone, but a distracted driver I am not, so I let it go unanswered for now.
Before I know it, I’m pulling into the rental car return and heading into the airport.
I’m not checking a bag, so I decide to use my phone app to check in rather than waiting for a kiosk.
When I retrieve my cell from my purse, I smile, my heart beating wildly as I see the incoming text from earlier.
Logan: Miss you already, Pip.
My grin widens as my thumbs fly across the screen.
Me: I miss you, too. Just got to the airport.
He replies almost instantly.
Logan: I’m counting the minutes until I get to kiss your pretty lips. BOTH sets. But in the meantime, if you’d like to send some sexy pics to tide me over, I wouldn’t complain.
A deranged snort-laugh flies out of me, so loudly it draws the attention of several people in the bustling terminal. I tuck my chin in embarrassment, shaking my head as I type out my reply.
Me: I’ll see what I can do when I get home.
Me: But for now, I need to get to my gate. They should be boarding any minute. I’ll text you as soon as I land.
Logan: Have a good flight, baby.
I’m grinning like a loon as I weave through the crowd toward security.
Luckily, I have priority screening, so I’m through in under five minutes; no hour-long shuffle behind grumbling passengers required.
Honestly, the eighty bucks I threw down for the Homeland Security background check was some of the best money I’ve ever spent. Five out of five stars, for sure.
By the time I reach my gate, they’ve just started boarding, so I don’t bother sitting down. Once I’m settled in my window seat, I take out my phone to send a quick message to Sylvie.
Me: On the plane, about to head home. Can you sneak away for brunch? We need to chat ASAP.
Sylvie doesn’t keep me waiting long.
Sylvie: Um, DUH. You know damn well I’ve been waiting for all the spicy tea. Hudson’s here, so it shouldn’t be a problem. Noon at our usual spot?
I mentally calculate how long it’ll take me to get to the parking garage once the plane lands. Our favorite brunch spot is a café in Manhattan Beach, so it’s a quick drive from LAX.
Me: I should be able to make it by then. I’ll text you when I get to my car.
My thoughts won’t stop wandering during the flight.
Memories from the weekend play on a loop in vivid detail.
Logan’s laugh, the way his fingers laced with mine as we talked late into the night.
Logan’s touch. His absurdly talented tongue.
I can’t stop grinning like an idiot, and my cheeks feel like they’re on fire.
If the expression on my seat neighbor’s face is anything to go by, I’m guessing I look a little crazed.
I try reading for a while, but considering I’m working through a brother’s best friend romance, it’s not exactly helping keep my mind off Logan.
Its trope is a pure coincidence considering I started it on the plane ride to Reno, but I’m sure Freud would have a field day with the fact that at least a third of the books in my library have the same theme.
I’m getting antsy, anxious to get everything off my chest with Sylvie, so when the city below comes into view, I breathe a sigh of relief.
Once we land, I flip off Airplane Mode and find another message from Logan already waiting.
Logan: You just spent the last two hours imagining me naked, didn’t you?
I roll my eyes, even though he can’t see me and send a quick reply.
Me: Nice try, but this little fishy still isn’t biting… (Just landed btw. We’re taxiing to the gate now.)
Logan: Glad you made it safely. (I’ll get you to admit it one of these days. )
Me: Meeting Sylvie for brunch on the way home. Do you want me to text you when I’m done?
Logan: You’d better.
I chuckle, unable to resist the urge to mess with him.
Me: And if I forget?
Logan: Oh, Pip. You really wanna go there?
Me: I’m sorry, I’m not following. I’ll need you to rephrase the question, please.
Logan: Sure. I can do that. Enjoy your brunch, Rosie.
I know you’re dying to unload on your cousin, so have at it.
But when you get home afterward, if you don’t text me, or better yet, FaceTime me, I’m going to hop on the next flight to LA, drive over to your place, strip you naked, and spank your ass until you’re dripping wet and begging me to fuck you. That clear enough for you?
Dear god.
Why is it so damn hot in this plane all of a sudden? I fan my flaming cheeks before typing my reply.
Me: Well, now you’re just tempting me to go radio silent.
Logan: Good to know.
I blink rapidly when I realize he’s texting me from the cabin.
Me: How are you texting me from a dead zone anyway?
Logan: Who said it was a dead zone?
Me: Uh…the zero bars on our phones said so.
Logan: YOUR phone may have had no reception. We must have different carriers because mine’s been fine this whole time.
My jaw drops.
Me: What?!
Logan: You didn’t put it together when I used my phone as a hotspot so we could watch Netflix?
Oh, for fuck’s sake. No, I didn’t, probably because I was too distracted by all the sex. And thinking about the sex.
Logan: I’ll take your silence as a no.
Me: I hate you.
Logan: No, you don’t.
Me: Fine. I don’t. But I AM annoyed with you for letting me think I had no means of communication all weekend.
Logan: Oh, baby, I think we communicated just fine.
My toes curl when a memory of how well we communicated flashes through my mind.
Me: And on that note, I’m going to shove my phone in my purse before I spontaneously orgasm in the middle of a crowded plane. Talk soon.
Logan: Can’t wait.