“I get that. It’s okay to miss him. It’s okay to be angry. But it’s not okay to give up on your dreams or stop living your life. Your father wouldn’t want that for you.”
“I know,” he says softly.
Our conversation seems a little strange. It’s like I’ve known Logan forever, and my advice is from one friend to another. As someone who cares deeply about him.
“It’s just that being away from the family is hard. But being back here is hard too,” he says.
“None of this is easy. It’s not supposed to be,” I say gently.
He nods, a lump of emotion bobbing in his throat as he forces a hard swallow. “I guess you’re right. I just wish it could be simple.” He’s quiet for a moment, one damp hand working through his messy brown hair.
He looks so hopeless that, as unprofessional as it is, I find myself moving closer to him and bring my arms around him. Logan relaxes against me, releasing a deep sigh.
My brain starts spinning. Maybe because he’s this big strong man, but it’s never occurred to me that I would have to be careful with him. Yet it’s obvious I do. I curl myself into his chest and wrap my arms around him and just hold him. Breathing in his winter-air scent, I murmur into his neck that everything will be okay.
I stroke my fingers through his hair and tell him he’s incredible and that everyone is proud of him. He lets out a deep grateful exhale and holds me tighter. I tell him that he’s so strong, and that it’s okay to be vulnerable too, sometimes. He makes a low wordless sound.
I can actually feel him healing and being knitted back together right in front of me.
It’s a side of Logan I didn’t imagine I’d ever see, and I’m so grateful that he’s comfortable enough around me to let his walls come crumbling down.
When we finally part a few minutes later, there’s an easiness about him that wasn’t there before.
“Thanks, Summer.”
I meet his serious expression with one of my own. “You’re welcome.”
I can sense a change in him. Before me sits a man who, at one time, I thought was all hard edges. But I was wrong. There’s a softness about him too.
He doesn’t let many people see this side of him, which I can understand. The less people know about you, the less they can pry. It’s a self-preservation technique. Keeping people at arm’s length is one of Logan’s coping mechanisms. But knowing I’m someone he’s willing to let into his inner circle makes my heart squeeze a little. I feel warm all over, and it’s not just because of the hot water we’re lounging in.
Sometimes I wonder if I’m qualified for my new job. But when I’m talking to Logan, I feel qualified, helpful even. Maybe it’s sporting of him to amuse me into thinking so, I’m not sure, but I definitely appreciate how useful he makes me feel.
When he finally breaks the silence, it’s with a question I never could have seen coming. “How did you lose your mom?”
A burning sensation sizzles in my chest. I wasn’t at all prepared to talk about this, but he’s been so vulnerable with me, the least I can do is return the favor.
“Car accident,” I choke out, examining my hands to avoid his gaze. “Drunk driver. She died on impact.”
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “How do you . . . how did you get through it?”
I meet his worried gaze and lift one shoulder. “I don’t know. One day at a time.”
“God, Summer. I’m sorry. That’s awful.”
“You can’t appreciate the sweet if you never have the bitter.”
He nods somberly. “You said she was your best friend?”
I lift my chin. “Yes. She was. And believe me, it’s been tough, and the pain will always be there. But time helps, and so does knowing that she wouldn’t want me to be sad about it all the time.” I muster up the courage to meet his eyes, his gaze soft with compassion. “The important thing to remember is that you’re not dealing with the hurt all alone. You have your mom and your brothers and your grandpa and—”
“And you,” he interrupts.
My breath catches, and I realize this isn’t just a counseling session anymore. It’s so much more. This is two people connecting on the deepest level, despite the hurt from their pasts. This is real. Raw.
More than anything in the world, I desperately want to close the space between us and kiss him again, the way he kissed me last night. Hard and sure and with abandon.
But I know I can’t. And that’s a kind of hurt I don’t know how to deal with.
“How did you know about this place?” I blurt out, looking for any way to change the subject.
Logan seems to understand and follows along without hesitation. “We’ve been coming here since before my dad bought the property. It’s been a few years for me, though. I’ve sort of been avoiding it.”
“Why would you avoid somewhere as beautiful as this?”
The smallest nervous chuckle rumbles in his chest. “You sure you want to know?”
I nod, eager to be let in on what feels like a big secret.
Logan clears his throat. “Well, uh, because Graham told us that he lost his virginity here. Kind of ruined it for me.”
“Ew!” I squeal. “Don’t ruin it for me too!”
“You asked,” Logan says with a chuckle.
Soon, we’re both laughing and splashing water at each other. I feel like a kid again, flirting with a boy I like at the neighborhood pool. Maybe I was wrong before about none of this being easy. Because this, right now, feels as simple as it gets.
As the sun sinks lower in the sky, we enjoy the relaxing mineral water together. Small talk comes easily, but comfortable silences fill the space between us too.
Finally, once we’re thoroughly pruney, we slip back into our clothes and begin the hike back. By the time we reach the truck, the moon and stars are starting to peek through, and I gladly take Logan up on his offer to drive. I may have made serious progress on the whole driving a stick thing, but I’m not sure I’m ready to tackle it in the dark just yet. Plus, I could use a little time in the passenger seat to reflect on the conversation we just had.
A mile or two down the road, Logan takes a turn in the opposite direction of home. “Are you hungry? I thought we could swing by a taco stand on the way back.”
“I never say no to tacos. It’s a personal principle of mine.”
He laughs, and I wonder if he suggested that because I told him Mexican food is my favorite.
“And I don’t come to this side of the mountain without swinging by the Gonzalez family’s taco stand. So it looks like our principles align.” He grins, and I feel that dimpled smile way down in my belly.
A laugh bubbles out of me, the kind of true, honest laugh that only comes around once in a great while.
But it’s immediately followed by a swift dose of reality. Because I just realized how much this whole day feels like a date, something I haven’t had in forever. But I know it can’t be, no matter what my heart wants.
Even if today was great, and his big family is everything I’ve ever wanted, and Logan’s blue eyes are completely dreamy, I know better than to let my silly fantasies turn into anything more than daydreams.