Page 50 of Hot Saltwater Kisses

“Yeah.” I bit the inside of my cheek against a grin. “You could say he got a rocky ending.”

Logan’s laugh drifted like smoke in the night air. It was strange that he thought I was funny—Michael never had.

“Guess that’s karma,” Logan said, then fell quiet for a beat. “And with the stars, how it’s not so different here than it is in the States... It’s nice, isn’t it? A little reminder that some things don’t change, no matter how far you go.”

“Or maybe it’s a reminder that you can’t outrun yourself.” I focused on the weight of our hands on my stomach. “This reminds me of camping—us being out here, I mean. Like, sleeping outside when the weather was good, or in a tent when it looked like rain.”

“Childhood memories?” he asked.

“Yeah. My parents took me when I was younger.”

“That’s cool.” Logan shifted slightly to face me, his tone blending into the darkness. “Never did that with my parents—we only ever stayed in hotels. First time I went camping was just before I came here, at a festival. Kyle took me.”

Kyle—Logan’s assigned roommate back in college. They’d moved from the dorms straight into an apartment they still shared. The way Logan told it, Kyle was some kind of legend who pre-gamed harder than others even partied.

“Coachella?” I asked Logan.

“How did you know?”

“You were wearing the bracelet, first day you showed up here.”

“Oh, you noticed that?”

“It seemed at odds with your snooty rich boy act.”

He snorted, soft and amused. “Guess it’s true that the right accessories make the look. But, yeah, we went toCoachella. Crazy fun. You ever been?”

“Not to that one,” I said. BecauseCoachellahad been too mainstream, too commercial, a line-up of sellouts—at least according to Michael. “Other festivals, though. Smaller. Nothing you’d know.”

Logan’s thumb rubbed small circles into my skin, the touch light and easy, like he wasn’t even aware of it. “So you went camping with your parents? I guess it’s because they liked it more than because it was cheap, right? Since you also stayed here with them once, even if it was at a discount.”

They’d loved it. I had too. Some of my brightest childhood memories stemmed from those trips—swimming in lakes, lazy days in the sun, the crowded city reduced to a distant concept. My dad whistling a warbled tune as he shook out the tent, my mom frowning over instructions that hadn’t changed at all from the previous time.

“We went once a year.” I blinked their ghosts from my mind. “To commune with nature. Back to the roots and all that.”

“Modern bohemian types, then? Met plenty of those during my Art studies.”

“Not quite.” At least not when we’d last talked. I let my mind skim past the ache, rolled into Logan, and exhaled against his shoulder. “We didn’t live in a yurt and make our own soap or anything like that. But they did try to teach me that we’re not above nature but part of it. Eat organic, trust your heart to lead the way.”

Yeah, that had worked just great for me.

Logan’s thumb resumed its slow, hypnotic pattern on my skin. “You love them a lot, don’t you?”

The question landed like lightning, bright and unavoidable in its immediacy.

I needed a second to grapple for a reply. “They’re myparents. So, yeah. You love yours, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” Just the mention of them coated Logan’s voice in fondness. “I’m really lucky to have them both.”

We were quiet for a few seconds, just breathing. Cetus wouldn’t be long for this part of the world, dipping ever closer to the horizon.

“Do you,” Logan asked right into the hoarse croak of a frog nearby, “ever feel like you have to prove yourself to them?”

Not really. My parents weren’t the kind to impose expectations—if anything, they’d refused me guidance, hoping I’d set my own path. Instead, I’d found Michael to do it for me.

I moved our hands so I could curl into Logan’s side, head on his chest. His heart beat under me, faster yet no less steady than the ebb and swell of the sea. “No,” I told him, almost a whisper. “My parents were very… accepting, I guess? They believed in non-interference. I could have decided to become a professional ice cream taster, and that would have been just fine.”

“Well, don’t be afraid to dream big, darling.”

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