Chapter 13
The first thing I’m aware of when I awaken is a pang of hunger.
Oh, right. I haven’t had dinner.
But that’s immediately followed by the sensation of Logan’s bare chest against my back, his arm wrapped around me, and his breathing against my neck. I’m reminded of another time, from so long ago.
But this time, it’s different. This time, it feels right, and there’s no shame in my heart.
My heart is already dancing in my chest, and I’ve been awake for all of five seconds. Feeling Logan’s taut, naked body against mine like this fills me with a joy that’s hard to comprehend. I’m completely, utterly satisfied. I’m exactly where I need to be.
I close my eyes and let myself be completely consumed by this moment. Outside, I can already hear the waves awakening. There’s a small ray of sun making its way through my curtains, landing just a few centimetres from my face on the bed.
I wish I could bottle up this moment forever. Because I know that outside of this little bubble of peace lie archers, ready to shoot and pierce through it all.
His steady breathing suddenly changes. He takes one long inhale and exhale, stirs, and immediately squeezes me more tightly against him. He’s awake. “Good morning,” I whisper.
“Good morning.” His voice is still hoarse, but he’s smiling through his words. He leans over to kiss me, softly at first, but then with more intensity as it awakens our hunger once more.
Shortly after, we’re both panting and breathing heavily. Part of me wants to stay in this bed forever … but the other part of me is absolutely starving. Not for Logan—for actual food. And I’m craving my morning coffee. But just as I’m about to tell him I’m making breakfast, Logan pulls away from me and gets on his feet.
“You’re probably starving, right?” He walks to the other side of the bed near the chair where most of his clothes lie. I can’t stop staring at his lean body, the taut muscles, the slight V above his hips. “I’m gonna head to the lodge and grab us some breakfast. You stay right here.”
“You’re the best person in the entire universe. You know that, right?” I sigh while he’s getting dressed. I stay in bed, wrapped up in the cushy comforter, watching him lazily, hungrily.
He looks at me and smirks. “See, that’s where you’ve got it all wrong. Because that person just so happens to be you.”
“Bah,” I reply with a chuckle. “I’m not gonna have this argument on an empty stomach.”
“Exactly. I’ll be back soon.” Now fully dressed, he approaches the bed and kisses me again, this time breaking away before it can turn into something more. “Stay.”
While he’s gone, I obey him and stay put. But with him gone, the anxious thoughts are starting to crawl back into my brain.
What are you doing?
He’s going to leave when he figures out just how much of a mess you are.
You’re not moving here, and who says he’s going to move to Montreal with you?
What about what you did?
He deserves better.
Each thought is like a hot pin through my skull. There are happy ones in there to switch things up, but soon they’re overwhelmed by the others.
Deep breath in.
Deep breath out.
My phone starts ringing, and I jump. For a moment, I have no idea where it could be, then I remember I’d put it in the pockets of my jogging pants, which are on the floor. I scurry to the ground and search for it until I see who’s calling.
It’s Sophie.
I answer immediately. “Hey!” The sound comes out of my mouth a bit strangled.
“Hey, how have you been?” her voice chimes on the other end of the line. In the background, I hear Gwen singing what sounds like Baby Shark.
I hesitate for a second, not sure what to answer. Because I don’t even know. How have I been? And do I tell her about what just happened?
“You okay?” When she asks that, I realize I’ve been silent for too long.
“I had sex with Logan,” I blurt out before I can stop myself. I hear a gasp on the other end of the line. “Twice. He’s out to get us breakfast, Soph.”
“Good for you!” Sophie cheers. “If that doesn’t inspire you, I don’t know what will.”
“I don’t know what to feel,” I sigh.
“Happy. You should feel happy.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Actually, it is that simple.” Before I can reply, Sophie continues: “You know you’re allowed to be over Jasper, right?”
“It’s not that.” I rub my eyes and sigh. “I didn’t even think about Jasper.”
“Good.”
“I just … Sophie, I don’t know what I’m doing!”
“Relax. It’s okay. I’m here for you, remember?” Her voice is gentle, but there’s her usual edge, reminding me that she’s not going to take any of my bullshit.
“So what do I do?”
“You know what?” She sighs. “I’m coming down there before you screw up what could be a really amazing thing for yourself.”
“What? But what about?—”
“The baby? I can handle the baby, Avery. Honestly, I could use some time away from Gwen.” She whispers that last sentence. “She loves being a big sister, but sometimes it’s a bit much.”
“But—”
“No buts. It’s decided. I’ll take the next flight to Sydney and rent a car there. Executive decision. Love you. You can tell me all about it then.” And before I can argue any further, she hangs up.
I stand there, completely naked with my phone against my ear, when the door opens, revealing Logan with two coffees and a bag of something that smells nice. “I could get used to walking into this kind of scene,” he says, his voice getting husky. As he closes the door, his brow furrows. “You okay?”
“I …” I lower the phone from my ear and stare at it, still shell-shocked. “I guess you’re going to meet my friend Sophie?”
“She’s coming here?”
“Apparently.” I take a deep breath, then shake my head to bring myself back to the moment. “But more on that later. Right now I’m mostly interested in what’s in that bag.”
I quickly get dressed while Logan takes the food out of the bag to place everything on the table. He brought back a chocolate croissant, two breakfast sandwiches, a chocolate chip muffin, and a few apples in addition to the two cups of coffee.
What did I do to deserve this man?
I nearly throw myself towards the table once I’m fully dressed. Without waiting for permission or politeness, I grab the chocolate croissant and scarf it down, taking gulps of coffee in between. Logan just eats one of the breakfast sandwiches and watches me swallow my meal, slightly amused.
I barely talk during breakfast and end up eating the remaining breakfast sandwiches, the muffin, and one of the apples before I’m satisfied. Afterwards, I open the curtains and sip on my coffee. I take a moment to breathe before I allow myself to think about everything that just happened in the last twenty-four hours.
Outside, I can see the ocean and its waves crashing against the rocky beach like it does every day. I channel the sound of the waves to calm my nerves and gather the courage I need for what comes next.
“So, what is this?” I finally manage to say. Logan bites into the last apple and stops mid-bite. When he hums in confusion, I quickly gesture between the two of us. “This. Us. What is this? And what’s next?” Asking the question makes the end of my fingertips go numb with anxiety. I love what’s happening between us, even if it scares the shit out of me. But I have too many questions.
For one … How serious was Logan when he made his confession last night?
I want you back in my life. I want what I’ve been secretly hoping was possible for the last seventeen years. I want what I thought I could never have. But I don’t know if that’s what you want.
It sounded pretty clear when he said it, but he didn’t explicitly say he wanted me in the same way I want him. Because I don’t just want what we had last night. I, too, want Logan back in my life—and not just as a friend.
I want to wake up next to him every morning. I want to share everything with him. I can already imagine what it would be like to work side by side—him programming, me writing for a client.
But I can’t tell him that—not yet. That’s going to freak him out. So I need to know what he’s expecting, what he really wants. Because right now, we don’t even live in the same place.
Logan swallows his bite of apple and gives me a teasing smile. “I guess we’re going to have to figure that out, huh,” he says in a teasing tone.
“I know this probably isn’t your idea of sexy post-coital pillow talk,” I start, “but I just … you know me. I don’t deal super well with uncertainties.” He nods, waiting for me to continue. “For instance, what’s next for you after your summer working here is done? Headed back to San Francisco?”
Suddenly, his carefree smile is gone. He’s got a slight frown. So I guess he’s worried about the future, too. We’ve really opened up a can of worms by doing what we did last night. And again this morning. “It’s okay if you are,” I start, hoping I’m not giving him the wrong impression. “I’m open to discussing … you know. What that would look like. I just need to know we’re on the same page.”
“Yeah, it makes sense. We’ll figure it out,” he says, almost ending the sentence like a question. He turns his gaze to look outside. He’s clearly got his mind on something.
“Well … yeah. That’s what I’m trying to do.” I try not to sound annoyed, but I think it goes through anyway. “So … Are you going back there in the fall or not?”
“I don’t know,” he sighs. He’s still not looking at me.
“What do you mean you don’t know?” His response weighs on my chest. I have no idea where this worry is coming from. Minutes ago, he was carefree, looking as happy as can be. There was so much love in his eyes that I thought I was going to overdose on it.
What’s going through his mind?
Maybe he regrets what we did. I feel a pit in my stomach. He never explicitly told me what he wanted. Maybe I got it all wrong.
“I mean, I don’t know yet,” he replies, exasperated. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Sorry. I’m just a bit tired. Didn’t get much sleep last night.” He looks at my chest and shoots me a playful smile. He’s back. “Got distracted by a few things.”
“Oh. Okay.” I’m a bit relieved his good mood is back. He’s just tired. That’s probably all it was. “So, you’re actually considering working elsewhere? Are they going to let you work from home or something?”
Logan looks at his phone. “Actually, Avery,” he starts as he gets up from his chair, “can we continue this conversation another time? As much as I’d love to laze around all day and go back to bed with you …” He leans to kiss me. I savour as much of it as I can before he pulls away. “I need to go to work. I promise we can continue this soon, okay?”
“Oh. Right.” For a moment, I’d forgotten he works here. And I’d forgotten I came here to work, too.
“But we should have dinner. For real, this time.” He winks at me. “If I come here and find you napping again, you can be sure I’ll wake you up.” To clarify exactly what he means, he bends to kiss me again, slowly and passionately. One hand weaves in my hair while the other holds my shoulder; I wrap my arms around his back and pull him closer.
The kiss ends too soon. He pulls away with a smile. “Okay. Gotta go for real. I’ll meet you back here at six?”
“Okay.” I watch him leave, still feeling the warmth of his lips on mine.
Once he’s gone, I quickly change into shorts and a T-shirt—my official ‘work uniform’ when the heat starts rising in the morning. I then take a five-minute breather outside to integrate the ocean air as I sip my coffee, then go back inside and get settled for what I hope will be a more productive day.
The first thing I notice when I open my email inbox is an unread email from Leslie. I click on it, silently dreading the reply:
Avery,
Ok—we are DEFINITELY getting somewhere. I like the new version you sent us SO much better.
Please proceed with the rest of the website pages using this approach. The rest of the team would like to see a draft ASAP.
Best,
Leslie
Relief washes through me. I’m finally getting somewhere. I don’t know if it’s because of the time I’ve been spending with Logan, or the ocean air that’s finally filled my bloodstream, or just a matter of perseverance, but I’m starting to think I can actually finish this project without getting asked for a refund—which I would be unable to provide, in either case.
With an extra boost of motivation from this feedback, I settle down and write. It’s a bit difficult at first; from time to time I start wondering exactly when Sophie will end up here. That, or I’ll think back to the way Logan dodged my questions. But eventually, I’m able to reach the elusive flow state from which I create my best work.
Something I haven’t been able to do for a long, long time.
Before I know it, it’s already 5:30 p.m. and I’m rushing to get ready before Logan arrives. Now I’m much more nervous than the first time we went for dinner. Last time, we went as old friends. Now, we’re going as … what, exactly? I don’t know, but I do know one thing:
This is very obviously going to be a date.
Maybe the last time had even been a date.
Ugh, I don’t know.
I look at my reflection in the tiny bathroom, not sure what to do with myself. My hair dried weird from falling asleep on it wet yesterday, and I don’t have any more time left for a shower. Instead of trying to tame the weird kinks, I brush through them and tie my hair back into a messy-but-cute bun. Then I pull out a few strands to frame my face. Not too bad.
Next, I get changed into a yellow floral dress that’s supposed to be a mini dress but reaches a bit below the knees on me. A few final flicks of mascara, and I’m ready.
I look at myself one last time, satisfied. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I can call myself beautiful. I guess seeing a man succumb to your charms twice in less than twelve hours will do that to you.
I’ve got a few minutes left, so I take out my phone and start texting Dad.
I’m sure you would have called it Dad, but I think Logan and I are a thing? I haven’t felt this happy in ages. Even when I was with Jasper. This is different. I can actually be with myself around him and he never says any offhand comments. He doesn’t mind the family curse. It’s like he was created to counter it, you know? To soothe my anxiety.
I hit send and let out a deep breath. At this point, I’m not expecting anything back. But I still feel like I have to try.
I hear knocking, and my heart skips a beat. Only then do I realize how much I’ve been holding back on the feeling of missing Logan for the entire day. I nearly run to the door.
On the other side is Logan, wearing a black short-sleeved button-down shirt that makes his sun-tanned skin pop. In one hand, he’s holding a bouquet of flowers. They’re lilies.
“I was hoping they’re still your favourite,” he says, handing the bouquet over to me. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, inhaling their sweet aroma. It’s going to be okay.
“They are,” I confirm with a smile. “They’re beautiful, Logan. Thank you.” From his demeanour, it seems like the weird mood he was in this morning is gone. I’m hoping it was just a fluke.
After I place my flowers in a vase inside, we make our way back to the lodge by foot to find Logan’s car. He’s taking me back to The Coastal Kitchen, but this time he says we’re going to take advantage of their patio. Apparently, we can spot the ocean from there. I don’t know how I didn’t realize they had a patio the first time we came, because I’ll choose a patio over any indoor seating when I can.
We have a drink, then two. I order the shrimp pesto pasta again because I decide I love myself and want to enjoy nice things. Once again, he’s greeted by the staff and some regulars, but this time when a middle-aged man remarks about bringing his girlfriend, his reply is different:
“This is Avery,” he says, beaming right at me.
Not ‘Oh, she’s just a friend,’ not ‘Oh, no, it isn’t like that,’—he just lets the girlfriend comment slide right past us without discomfort or awkwardness.
And when he inevitably gets asked to play the piano, he looks at me and asks if that’s okay. Of course I want to hear him play. The last time I heard him play was the moment I realized how I felt about him.
But something else goes through me at that moment. A moment of boldness. I have no idea what I’m thinking when I say out loud:
“I should sing!”
Unfortunately, I’m not a singer. Well, okay—my voice is cute, and I can sing in tune, so I’m not a complete racket. But I’m far from pop star material, and I’ve always known that. Despite all that, I just love singing my head off. And tonight, something makes me want to live fully and express myself.
It makes no sense that the last time I was here, I struggled to make it out without panicking, what with all the people coming to talk to us.
But it is what it is. I’ll take what I get.
Logan looks at me with surprise, which soon transforms into glee. “Okay, let’s do it.”
Once we make our way inside, the restaurant is buzzing with chatter and the typical sounds of people eating. But as we get closer to the piano, Logan pulling me by the hand, the restaurant suddenly goes quiet. I can feel the weight of everyone’s gazes. They know Logan. They don’t know me. Who am I to bust into their world like this? I’m about to change my mind and turn back, but Logan is already at the piano, looking at me with a twinkle in his eyes. This is exciting to him.
I can’t turn back now. I don’t know what this moment means, but it means … something. I’ve got to commit.
“What do you have in mind?” Logan asks in a low enough voice that the diners can’t hear him. That has to be pretty low—we could almost hear a pin drop. Even the wait staff is talking more quietly, their eyes turned toward me with inquisitiveness.
“What about My Heart Will Go On?” Logan makes a face, and I burst into laughter. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. As if I could pull that off.”
Logan, looking relieved, chuckles with good nature. “Okay, what about … just follow my lead.” He braces himself to play, and in a moment, the restaurant is engulfed with the musical notes of Stand by Me.
Great. That’s an easy one for my range. I can do this. My heart is about to bust out of my chest, but I can do this.
I take a deep breath and begin to sing. At first, my voice is shaky, and my fingers start going numb, but I place a hand on the piano to steady myself and look at Logan who’s already looking back at me. He’s not even looking down at the piano keys; he only has eyes for me.
That seems to be enough to keep me steady. His eyes say everything. That I can trust him. That he can trust me. That we can stand by each other, and the rest will be fine. Like the first time I heard him play, I’m overtaken by a magical sense of awe surrounding the entire room.
The last notes of the piano decay, and there’s a moment of silence before the restaurant erupts into applause. For a moment, I can’t move. Next thing I know, Logan is standing next to me, sweeping me into a romantic embrace.
His lips touch mine in a way that seems to say:
She’s with me, and I’m proud of that. This is for the whole world to see.
I kiss him back with all the appropriate ardour of a restaurant. I have to focus all of my will on holding back from making a fool of myself. When Logan pulls back, I’m slightly dizzy.
His hand softly strokes my jawline. “You have a beautiful voice,” he tells me. “Everything about you is beautiful.”
My face goes hot. I look away, feeling embarrassed, yet so happy to be seen like this. Logan has always looked at me like no one else does. Like he fully sees every part of me, for better or worse. Like even my deepest, darkest flaws have a way of seeming beautiful from where he’s standing.
It’s a shame it has taken me this long to realize why he looks at me this way.
I’m so shaken that Logan has to guide me back to the patio so we can finish our meal. And I’m so high up on my cloud that even the curious gazes of the diners don’t bring me down.
Outside, the sun is setting. Despite this, the air is still warm. Perfect, in fact. We both sit back at our table just in time for our meals to arrive. It’s like the universe has given the word to line everything up perfectly at the same time.
I don’t take a bite just yet. Instead, I reach out to touch Logan’s hand. His hazel eyes stare deep into mine, stirring something loose inside of me.
“Logan,” I begin, my voice hardly more than a whisper. “I?—”
A ringtone erupts and stops me mid-sentence. I’m taken aback and pulled out of this perfect bubble, this dream. The sound is coming from Logan. Confused, he fishes his phone out of his pocket and takes a look at the screen. That’s when his face goes dark.
My stomach sinks. There’s a new pressure on my chest. I’ve been here for nearly two weeks, and I’ve never seen an expression like this on his face. In an instant, I dig in the back of my mind for memories of young Logan. But there’s nothing there. Nothing that resembles this.
Something is deeply wrong.
“I have to take this,” he says flatly right as he stands. He doesn’t make eye contact with me. “I’m sorry. I’ll be right back.”
And he leaves me alone at our table, my unspoken I love you dying on my lips.