Chapter 16
Sophie doesn’t stay in Ingonish Beach for very long. She and Heather sleep in my cabin for the night, and the next day, she’s already gone. But I’m okay. I’m going to be okay. I had her for long enough, I think.
Her words mull around in my brain for a while, even after she’s left. And I figure that she has to be at least partially right. After all, my anxiety does seem to make everything worse, so I don’t know if I should trust it. Of course, it’s going to tell me I need to worry about everything and that things won’t work out between Logan and me. Of course it will.
That’s what it does.
But I have permission to not listen to it. Because Sophie is right; I deserve to be happy. Apart from a few weird incidents, Logan has shown me that he cares. And every time I’m with him, I feel surrounded by a warm halo of light, and the inspiration that makes me feel alive stirs back up within me. The dull darkness that has been holding me back for so many months now is nothing but a pale shadow when he’s around.
So I’ve got a chance to be myself again. To be happy again. I’m not going to let anxiety ruin it for me.
Not anymore.
After Sophie leaves, Logan and I fall into a comfortable routine. I wake up every morning with him next to me, which is enough to fuel me with all the inspiration I need to get my work done. But before he leaves, I can never resist pulling him close, and we end up tangling together and unable to let go, even if we’ve already done so the night before. He can’t get enough of me; I can’t get enough of him.
It’s intoxicating.
At some point every morning, he does have to let me go and head to work at the lodge. I spend my days alternating between writing, walking along the rocky beach, dipping in the cold ocean to wake myself up, and grabbing lunch at the lodge when it’s time for Logan’s break. Once or twice he comes to surprise me with a hot lunch and a coffee while I’m still writing, and it sets my entire body ablaze.
When evening falls, we either go out for dinner or he’ll make me something in his apartment above the lodge. We always end up on our bench facing the ocean, and we talk. We talk like the world’s ending tomorrow and we’ll never get another chance to speak. We talk to catch up on seventeen years of not talking at all.
The days are exactly how I’d pictured them when I booked this place. The inspiration is flowing like a magical river through my fingers. I’m getting much better feedback on the quality of the website copy, and it’s somehow meeting their near-impossible expectations. I’ll be finished before the month is up, which will give me more time to think about what I want next for Logan and me.
And the evenings are exactly what I need. Having someone to listen, someone who can truly see me as I am, makes it easier to keep everything else under control. And it certainly doesn’t hurt that when we close out the evening in my bed, Logan knows exactly how to please me. Every caress, every kiss, every wave of us coming together is yet another piece of proof that tells me this is exactly right. Our bodies fit together perfectly, just like our minds. And finding him again, coming together like this again … it’s almost worth the seventeen years we’ve had to endure apart.
That’s what I’m thinking now as we pull up to the parking lot in the middle of the woods. The day is a bit overcast but still quite hot, so I’m glad Logan’s ‘special spot’ is in the relative coolness of the forest.
“So this is where you wanted to take me after our first outing?” I ask as I exit his car. I take a look around and whistle. “Yup, definitely a great murder spot. I can just picture it at night.”
Logan erupts into laughter; the rumbling laugh I just can’t get enough of. I look at him and once again try to take in the reality that he’s mine.
It seems too good to be true.
Not today, Avery. Anxiety is not going to win today.
I push the nagging thought aside and laugh along with him. “You weren’t supposed to remember that part,” he says. “Now I’ll never get away with it.” Once he settles his laughter down, he grabs a small backpack from the trunk of the car. We’ve got a few essentials stocked in there: water, a handful of granola bars, sunscreen, and bug spray.
Once Logan is ready to go, he points toward an opening in the woods. “It’s this way.” I begin to walk towards the opening, my steps eager.
As we walk, I look around and can’t help but admire the beauty of the trail. The forest is mossy with several huge boulders and fallen trees, and the trail in front of us meanders along a small stream. The scent of the moss and running water is both refreshing and exhilarating.
We walk in silence for a few minutes while Logan lets me admire the surroundings. But when I finally turn my head to meet his gaze, he’s staring at me, his hazel eyes warm and caring.
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper, taken aback by the way he’s looking at me.
He doesn’t break the stare. “It really is.” My heart skips a beat, and I suddenly want nothing more than to stop this hike and jump into his arms, press my lips against his, and hear him moan my name.
But instead, I simply grab his hand and keep going.
The rest of the path is pretty easy, even if I’m a bit out of shape. Logan doesn’t tell me what’s at the end of the path, but about halfway there I begin to hear the faraway sound of waterfalls.
I stop dead in my tracks, overtaken by giddy joy. “Where are we headed, exactly?” I can’t help but ask, my voice coming out way higher in pitch than I intended.
Logan gives me a smug look. “We’re almost there. You’ll see.”
I can’t help but pick up the pace; my limbs are wound up from the excitement. “Oh, now I know it’s gotta be a waterfall,” I squeal. Even though I’m walking faster, I still tread carefully. Now that we’re deeper into the woods, roots stick out of the ground, twisting around fallen tree trunks all around us.
The closer I get, the louder the falls echo in my ears. The smell of water against stone—petrichor—blended with the mossy woods is intoxicating. I quickly glance behind me to make sure Logan is keeping up with me, but I’ve got nothing to worry about; he’s right at my heels, that huge grin of his plastered on his face.
When I turn back, I finally begin to see the falls across the bendy trees. I break into a run but quickly stop in my tracks when I see the shallow pool at my feet. Wasting no time, I remove my shoes and my socks to dip my toes in the pool at the bottom of the falls.
It’s pure bliss.
The water is cool against my hot skin, and towering over me are the falls cascading over mossy stones. Tall trees surround the area, making it feel intimate and hidden away. There’s no one else here but Logan and me, so nothing stops me from giggling with glee as I splash my toes in the water.
“You know why I like this place?” Logan asks, removing his shoes to join me in the shallow pool. “I mean, apart from the obvious?”
I look at him, and I can’t stop smiling. My cheeks are starting to get sore. I think I know what he’s going to say. “It’s very similar to the hidden falls we found with my dad at Kakabeka Falls, isn’t it?”
There’s a glint in his eyes, and I know I’ve hit the nail on the head. The main falls at Kakabeka were stunning, but the three of us ventured into a lesser-known trail while my mom rested at our campsite. And even though the hidden falls we found were much smaller, we all felt connected in that moment.
I blush as I recall what my dad had said to Logan to tease him. “Remember how my dad encouraged you to put your arms around my shoulder for our photo in front of the falls?”
He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I remember. And I also remember how he told me to never touch you again after he’d taken the photo.” I laugh, and he laughs with me. It was all said in good fun.
God, I miss Dad. A sharp pain blooms in my chest.
But it’s quickly forgotten when Logan moves his hands to my hips. “I’ve been coming here two, three times a week. At least before you showed up. Because it would bring me right back to that moment with you. And for those brief moments, I could pretend you’d never left.”
My stomach drops. He doesn’t add that he could pretend I’d never ghosted him, but I know he’s thinking it. My chest tightens, but I blink a few times and sigh as I keep my eyes closed.
I lean against his chest; one of his hands travels to my lower back. Inhaling his scent along with the smell of the falls, I’m overwhelmed by how safe I feel with him like this.
There was a time you felt safe with Jasper, too.
And with Dad.
I wave the thought away; what would Sophie say? She’d tell me to stop overthinking. So I try to do exactly that.
I look up at him with expectant eyes. His pupils dilate, and he seemingly understands the look I’m giving him because both his hands shift down to grab my ass. The contact lights up a fire in my lower belly; I press myself even closer to him and wrap my arms around his neck, bringing our lips together.
Here, alone in the wilderness, the kiss is slow and tender, unrushed. I part my lips and welcome his tongue as I weave my fingers through the hair behind his neck. Logan softly runs his thumb from behind me to the underside of my shirt, tracing a line all the way to the underside of my bra. I gasp into his mouth when his hand presses underneath the fabric of the bra to cup my breast, and my hips jerk. When I feel the hardness of him pressing against my belly, the pressure between my thighs cranks up a notch—or two.
Logan pinches my nipple between his thumb and index, and this time I moan. “You make me feel so good,” I gasp against his mouth.
“God, I love touching you, Avery,” he grunts in response; his hand runs over my stomach, inching lower and lower until it reaches the top of my leggings. “I want to make you feel good.”
A flash of hesitation goes through me. There’s no one else here, but anyone could easily walk in on us like this. The anxiety wants to reign it in, but another part of me finds this extremely hot.
Logan’s hand pauses. “Unless you don’t want to?”
“Yes, Logan, please,” I urge him, pushing his head with my hand so our mouths connect again. But his hand moves painfully slowly, circling just around my waistband in a teasing motion. I push myself up on my tiptoes to urge his hands closer, to relieve the pressure that’s aching there.
Ever so slowly, Logan slips beneath the stretchy fabric. I whimper as his fingers stroke gently, just around where I want him to go. “Tell me what you want,” he groans, his mouth now nipping at my ear.
“More,” I moan, my breath short. He obliges, and his thumb finally strokes my most sensitive spot, pulling a gasp out of me. His fingers curl inside, hitting every spot, and my breath hitches.
“God, you’re driving me crazy,” Logan gasps in my ear. My eyes flutter as my head rolls back, and I can’t bring myself to speak, to tell him that he’s the one who’s driving me crazy with the circular motion of his fingers. He’s building up the tempo, becoming a bit rougher now, and hearing his own breath hitch in my ear is enough to bring me over the edge.
Wave after wave of pleasure rolls through me; my legs shake, but he’s holding me tight, nowhere close to letting me go. I catch myself screaming his name, and as I come down my high, he peppers my collarbone with gentle kisses.
I melt against him, positively boneless, and bask in the bliss he has brought me in this magical place.