Page 50 of All Roads Lead to You

I leaned in first since I had doubts Logan would do it despite him asking. His eyes slid closed before mine did when our lips finally touched.

Although I'd taken the lead, Logan took over from there, sliding a hand to my back and pulling me against him. Fuck. My dick threatened to react already. I probably should’ve been more concerned, but my mind got lost in Logan’s soft yet firm lips and his demanding tongue that slid into my mouth.

Caleb’s kiss never made my heart beat like this. It hammered so hard it almost hurt. And the blood pumping in my ears drowned out the water lapping around us while my stomach somersaulted, making me a little queasy, but not necessarily in a bad way.

No, these kisses were nothing like how Caleb and I used to practice. Ours had been more tentative because we weren’t really into it with each other. It only served one purpose, and that was to learn how to kiss girls, not guys.

Kissing Logan seemed strangely intimate. I wasn’t sure if simply practicing could be intimate or if the intimacy was because we both secretly wanted this.

As much as I wanted the kiss to linger, I needed to pull away before he noticed my stiffy. It happened the last time, too, but I used my drunkenness to lie to myself.

When I gently pulled away, Logan kept his eyes closed, as if imagining we were still kissing before they finally slid open, looking at me with an unreadable expression.

“Feel more comfortable kissing now?” I asked, doing my best to appear casual as my body fought off the arousal.

“Yeah, I do.”

“As I said, you’re a natural.”

His smile was small and a bit shy. “Thanks for your help.”

“Of course. Anything to help out my bro,” I winked. God, why did it feel like I was overcompensating? “You’ll find your guy, and he’ll be amazed at how well you kiss.” And I just couldn’t shut the fuck up.

For the first time, a niggling sense of jealousy spread through me with words like mine, fuck that, and I don’t share. A weird sense of possessiveness took over because I’d been Logan’s first gay kiss. I wanted to be his first in other things. Was that why I enjoyed it so much? Because I liked being there for him? Or was it more?

God, this was so confusing. I wasn’t gay, but I couldn’t ignore whatever this was going through me. Then again, maybe I was making this out to be more than it was.

Have you ever had a sex dream about someone who wasn’t your girlfriend or boyfriend? When you see them again, you have those reminiscent sexual feelings for them that linger from the dream. Eventually, it goes away, but you can’t help but wonder if you’re more interested in them than you thought. My bodily response to Logan could be just that.

“I’m hungry. Let’s eat,” he said, swimming away, leaving me a tad confused about everything, yet longing to hold onto whatever connection we’d just shared.

“Sounds good.”

“While this trip has been a blast, I miss Mom’s cooking,” I said as I ate the last bite of my canned beef stew while listening to one of Logan’s mixtapes on the boombox playing softly in the background.

“Yeah, Mia’s an awesome cook. When it was just Dad and me, it was TV dinners all the time. Although, I wasn’t sure if it was about the fact that he couldn’t cook and more to do with not having the energy between grieving and working.”

I wasn’t quite sure what to say to the spark of vulnerability Logan was giving me, but I needed to say something in return, so he never stopped opening up.

“Mom didn’t cook much after my dad left, either. She was distraught for a while… shocked is probably a better word. I hadn’t done much better. Eventually, she got it together and found her passions.”

“Maybe this is a blunt question, but are you sure he’s still alive? I mean, if he left and never reached out, how do you know?”

“Nah, that’s a good question. He wrote Mom a letter a few weeks later without a return address, telling her not to look for him. Fucking coward. I don’t know what else he said in that letter, and I never want to know.”

“I don’t blame you.”

“What if he told her he left because he couldn’t stand having a kid around, you know?”

“I guess some men aren’t made for marriage and kids.”

“I guess. That’s how we’re raised, right? Get an education, get a job, find a wife, have babies, and then you die.”

“Yeah, but I’ve always wanted that.”

It must’ve been hard to want something you couldn’t have.

Logan opened up the cooler and pulled out a couple of cans of beer, tossing one to me. I caught it, popped the tab, and took a long sip.

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