Page 39 of All Roads Lead to You

“Logan,” I said forcefully enough to get him to look at me.

“You also thought I’d hate you, yet here I am, talking to you openly about this and your fears.”

God, his eyes were filled with a desperate need to be accepted. I could only imagine what it was like to hide yourself, all alone out there among your friends, family, and teammates. Shit, if his teammates had learned of it, they probably would’ve kicked him off the team at best.

“Thanks, Nick.”

That was all he said, and I’d accept it. “Anytime, Logan. From now on, you and I will start fresh. We have a new road ahead of us, and not just the one we’re driving on, but a road where you can be yourself without fear and one where we can finally get along. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Chapter 12

Logan

Day 4

After getting dressed, I fingered back my long bangs, letting them fall naturally down the middle as I stared into the motel mirror hanging next to the dresser. My hair was getting long, spilling down past my ears.

Nick was showering, and I really tried my best not to think about him naked in there, which wasn’t easy after knowing, in detail, what he looked like without clothes now.

Earlier in the day, it was brutally awkward for me as we packed up camp to drive to the city of Nashville for the evening. My face constantly flushed from embarrassment after admitting to Nick that I was gay. Even worse, I’d kissed him, then I cried like a fucking baby. That had been the most humiliating moment of my life. The only person I’d ever been vulnerable with was Hunter.

Dear life, can you open a hole in the ground and swallow me up? That’d be swell.

I should’ve felt relief that Nick hadn’t judged or hated me. Instead, it only made my feelings for him grow, which was the last thing I needed.

“Fuck it,” I groaned at myself. “Man up, Logan.”

I rubbed a hand across my face and jaw, debating whether to shave. My beard was growing in, and I kind of liked it, but hardly anyone wore a beard these days.

The bathroom door opened to steam and the scent of Irish Spring soap. From the corner of my eye, I glanced at him in the mirror. The motel towel was wrapped around his narrow hips, exposing a dark happy trail and his lean muscles. His hair fell in his face, dripping water across his damp, bronzed skin.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and quickly glanced away before I risked a boner.

It was fucking hard not to see him in a brighter light after last night, and it was even more difficult not to fall in love harder than I already was. I tried to tap into that old anger toward him, but the well had run dry. I was emotionally exhausted.

“Man, it’s gonna be nice to let loose tonight,” Nick said as if oblivious that I’d bared my soul to him last night, and for that, I was grateful.

“Yep.”

“Oh, come on! Please tell me you’re going to have fun. If anyone needs it, it’s you. Hell, I need it, too, after Lauren’s shit.”

“No, I’m looking forward to this. I suggested it, didn’t I?”

He patted my back, and even through my T-shirt, I felt the tingles of his touch. “Good man.”

Nick grabbed my shoulder and turned me to face him, scanning me up and down and frowning. “You’re not wearing that out, are you?”

I looked down at my jeans and black AC/DC T-shirt, one of the few shirts where I hadn’t cut the sleeves off. “Uh, that was the plan.”

“Do you always dress like that going out?”

I shrugged.

“Lame!”

I huffed and folded my arms, now feeling out of place with my choice of clothing. “Well, what are you wearing?”

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