Page 96 of What It Means To Be Found

Logan was always the first to reach for me. To reassure himself with my presence by touching or kissing me, regardless of the company we kept. The only time he truly held himself back was if we were having dinner with my parents, and even then, he kept one of his large hands either on my leg or my hand under the table.

I wasn’t as bold as Logan. I didn’t initiate physical contact between us nearly as much, but I never shooed him off of me when he did.

I never wanted to push Logan away. I found myself growing more and more comfortable with his displays of physical affection this past year. I think a part of me would always feel guilty for how stubborn I was at the beginning of our friendship, and then romantic relationship. I knew I didn’t need to carry the guilt of my behavior forever, but I also loved making it up to Logan in this way.

It was one of those rare times that the former people-pleasing Eloise perked up, happy to be her boyfriend’s reassurance when he needed me to be.

The conversation around the table started, but Logan’s fingers tapped my arm so that he could get my attention.

Want to know what Susan just told me at the bar? Logan asked, his eyes glowing with mischief.

Obviously. I signed back. Logan smirked.

She asked if you and I were next.

I rolled my eyes, before giggling and signing back to him, What did you say?

Logan shrugged; I wasn’t the one she needed to ask.

I frowned at him; You made it sound like I am the one holding us back.

Logan shrugged again. I pinched his thigh, and he huffed his laugh before letting his gaze wander over to Courtney and Josh, who were now slow dancing like mature adults to a slower song the DJ was playing for them.

I followed his gaze, taking in our friends’ expressions. How they looked at each other as if there wasn’t another single body in the room with them, and I felt deep in my bones that they were designed specifically for each other.

Similar to how I felt about Logan.

There wasn’t anyone else I had met in my life who understood me the way he did. That was as perfect for me as he was. Who let me have my emotional freak outs, who rubbed my feet when my period felt unbearable. Who challenged me to a food fight in the kitchen when I started one.

Who loved me unconditionally, as I did him.

That wasn’t to say there weren’t moments when he and I didn’t act like complete dumbasses around each other. We did. There were times when one of us would be tired and cranky, either from his hockey schedule, or my work schedule, or my mother’s excessive and demanding rich-lady parties. But every time, we took a breath, and did what our friends taught us to do when things got heated.

We talked it out.

Sometimes, we even gave the other space to feel their feelings. Unjudged.

Which was significantly easier for us to do now since my signing had improved so much this past year.

It really helped that I was sleeping with my ASL tutor, not gonna lie.

I got up from my chair at the table and pushed Logan’s shoulder back for him to scoot his chair out. His lap was available now, and I plopped myself right on his thighs and looped my arms around his shoulders.

I leaned in to brush my lips against his, nothing aggressive or sexual, just simple passes, before pulling back to sign my thoughts, I’ll let you know when I’m ready for something like that.

Logan’s eyebrows raised as my favorite smirk of his made another appearance.

I’ll be waiting, he replied.

I nodded and leaned into him, resting our heads together as we watched our friends joke around at the table because it was just that simple. We both wanted the same thing, and we would patiently wait until the other was ready to catch up. Safety and comfort, like what our friends had with their partners.

29

Epilogue

LOGAN

YEARS LATER

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