28. Ellie
ELLIE
Isat with my legs out on a beach towel, nestling my feet beneath the soft sand, letting each grain slip and scatter between my toes. The sun poured down in golden waves, warming my skin, melting the tightness from my shoulders.
The rush of the waves crashing onto shore filled my ears, punctuated by the distant sound of kids laughing and splashing in the surf. The world felt far away. Quiet. Still.
Peace. For the first time in what felt like forever, there was nothing weighing me down. Just this moment. Just the sun.
Logan and I had arrived at the beach a little while ago, and neither of us had said much. We didn’t need to. We sat there, side by side, breathing in the serenity like it was the only thing keeping us afloat.
“Oh, shit,” I muttered, suddenly sitting upright and diving into the canvas bag beside me. I rummaged through it—book, headphones, a half-finished crossword puzzle—until I found the forgotten bottle of sunscreen I meant to use the moment we got here.
Logan was lying flat on his back, a ball cap tilted over his face to block the sun. At the sound of my voice, he shifted. The cap slid down slightly as he cracked one eye open to watch me squirt the sunscreen into my palm.
I started with my face, then moved to my arms, chest, stomach, and legs, my skin already warm beneath my fingertips.
Then I hesitated.
Holding the bottle, I glanced over at Logan. “Would you mind getting my back?”
“Absolutely.”
“Eager much?”
He sat up without hesitation, tossing his cap aside and holding out his hand for the bottle.
“Skincare is important,” he replied with a playful grin.
I let out a small, nervous laugh as I turned away from him, gathering my hair and lifting it out of the way.
His hand landed lightly at the top of my shoulder—broad, warm, and a little rough. Slowly, he began rubbing the sunscreen into my skin, his fingers moving in slow circles. He pressed just enough to make my breath catch, then eased off, his palms gliding over my back.
He didn’t rush. He took his time.
When his hands moved down, brushing over the curve of my sides, I swear I could feel the heat from his fingertips settle somewhere deep inside me.
I bit the inside of my cheek and focused on breathing steadily, pretending like my pulse wasn’t going wild.
Logan must’ve felt the shift between us because, for a moment, his touch hesitated. The pause was barely there, but I noticed it. Felt it. Every part of me lit up like a warning flare.
I held in every urge. Every reckless thought. The anticipation of his touch nearly killed me. His hands moved slowly, deliberately, and there was no way in hell this was just about sunscreen anymore. The way he touched me—it was intentional. Tantalizing.
I closed my eyes, desperately trying to focus on something, anything, other than the spike in my heart rate or the pounding in my ears. I let out a shaky breath, one I didn’t even realize I’d been holding.
What the hell was happening to me?
Logan had touched me before. He’d literally thrown me over his shoulder once. I’d spent nights with him—just us, talking, laughing. Countless late-night moments that blurred the lines between platonic and something else. But none of it, not a single second, felt like this.
Not like his hands gliding over my bare back, not like the way my body leaned into his touch like it had been waiting years for it.
Even the fact that I felt disappointed when we got separate rooms? Alarming.
Don’t even get me started on sharing a bed with him last night.
Sure, I wasn’t lying when I said something touched my leg in bed. It had. But I probably could’ve dealt with it. Instead, I’d jumped at the excuse.
The way he held me… close. Strong. Safe. I’d inched closer, slowly, until I was curled up entirely in his arms, my head resting on his chest. I’d fallen asleep to the sound of his heart, steady but quick, and it had felt more grounding than anything else in my life lately.
Eventually, Logan finished and pulled away, his touch lingering on my skin even after it was gone.
“Do you want me to…?” I asked softly, holding up the sunscreen and letting the unspoken offer hang in the air.
Logan looked at the bottle, then at me. His eyes held something I couldn’t name, something too intense to untangle.
“Sure. I mean… skincare’s important.” Then, God help me, he winked.
I rolled my eyes, but my stomach flipped.
He turned away, giving me his back, and I shifted onto my knees. My fingers met the warm skin of his unfairly sculpted shoulders.
I started slow, just as he had. Letting my palms roam across every inch.
The muscles in his back shifted beneath my touch, and I could’ve sworn goosebumps followed in my wake.
My hands moved with purpose, memorizing every dip, every rise, every stretch of skin that was now mine to explore, if only for this moment.
I trailed down his sides, then back up again, refusing to leave a single patch untouched.
And still, the tension simmered. Quiet. Heavy. Dangerous.
Finally finished, I gave Logan’s shoulder a light tap and shifted, repositioning myself to face the water again.
I wasn’t hungry at all, but I needed something to distract me from the storm still brewing beneath my skin.
Tucking the sunscreen back into my bag, I glanced over at Logan. He was sitting upright on his towel now, his gaze distant but thoughtful.
“Are you hungry?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
“I could go for my sandwich,” he replied with a nod.
I pulled out the two we’d grabbed on our way to the beach, keeping mine and handing his over. We sat facing each other, unwrapping the wax paper like a little shared ritual.
I held mine out between us. “Cheers to a great trip so far.”
Logan smirked, the corner of his mouth curling up in that crooked way that always made me feel like I was in on some secret joke with him. He touched the end of his sandwich to mine.
“I have to say,” he said, taking a bite, “it’s only been a couple of days, but I’m having a really good time.”
“Me too,” I replied softly, my voice carrying the happiness I hadn’t felt in quite some time. “I didn’t realize how good a dancer and teacher you were.”
He laughed, chewing slowly. “It’s gotta be hereditary. My mom’s always been a great dancer. I think that’s why she’s so good at riding, too.”
“I know how to ride a horse,” I said, “but dancing? I must’ve missed that gene completely.”
“Speaking of horses,” he said, lowering his sandwich slightly, “are you worried about the new addition?”
I exhaled, the thought of Dottie tugging something heavy inside me.
Our last training session had gone sideways, and that alone was proof I hadn’t fully returned to myself.
Horses were smart, intuitive in a way most people weren’t.
They felt things. They felt you. And Dottie had sensed that I was still pretending everything in Faircloud was fine.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Dottie and I are still getting to know each other. I haven’t had one-on-one time with her since the day we brought her home. I just hope someone’s giving her the attention she deserves while I’m gone.”
Logan’s voice was soft but sure. “No one connects with them like you do, Ace. She’ll be lucky to have you back.”
His words hit something tender. Logan always believed in me—even when I couldn’t. Even when it felt impossible.
I turned to thank him, but before I could open my mouth, a flash of white swooped down in my peripheral vision.
I flinched, ducking instinctively.
“Hey!” Logan shouted.
I looked up just in time to see a seagull flying off, a brown blur dangling from its beak.
Logan’s hands were empty.
My jaw dropped, and then laughter exploded out of me like a wave breaking on the shore.
“That bastard took my sandwich!” Logan groaned, shaking his head and flipping the bird, literally, as it disappeared into the sky.
“He better like it,” I said through laughter. “These sandwiches are too good to share with strangers.”
“One bite…” Logan muttered. “That’s all I got.”
Still grinning, I tore my sandwich in half and offered him the larger piece.
“What’s mine is yours. Always,” I said, holding it out to him.
Logan looked at me, really looked, like he was seeing more than just a shared meal. His expression softened.
“You truly are one of the best people I’ve ever met. Do you know that?” he asked, taking a generous bite from the piece I’d handed him.
And just like that, my heart did that reckless thing again—jumped without a net.
Slamming my book shut, I sat up, peering down at Logan, who was now stretched out on his stomach.
There it was again—that ridiculous, toned back, sun-kissed skin, and yes… that ass.
I cleared my throat once. Then again.
He didn’t move.
A third time finally got his attention. He rolled to his side and propped himself up on an elbow, squinting against the sun.
“I’m hot,” I announced, fanning myself dramatically.
“Just discovering that, are we?”
His voice held a flirty lilt that made me pause.
Since yesterday, it felt like he’d been doing that more often, blurring the line between playful and something deeper.
I ignored the warmth rising to my cheeks and rolled my eyes. “Will you come swimming with me?”
He sat up and dusted off the sand before standing. Without hesitation, he offered me his hand. I took it, letting him pull me up, the heat of his palm familiar.
“It’s been forever since I’ve swam in the ocean,” he said as we made our way toward the water, walking in step.
The beach had filled in while we’d been lounging—families spread out across towels, umbrellas dotting the sand, kids darting between beach toys and shallow waves. We weaved through it all until we reached the shoreline, and the cool water lapped at our ankles.
The sun reflected off the endless blue, dazzling and wide open, stretching all the way to the horizon.
“It’s kinda cold,” I said, wincing as I dipped my toes in.