Page 59 of Hot Saltwater Kisses

“Just about.” Kyle made a considering noise, sheets rustling. “You really care about him, don’t you?”

Man, his timing was impeccable. I inhaled sharply and tried to cover it up by clearing my throat immediately after—like hell I’d tell Kyle before I told Logan.Keep it simple.

“I do, yeah.”

Kyle was quiet for a beat, seeming to study me. No way could he make out any details, though, so I forced myself to relax. “Okay,” he said then. “So, we good?”

Just like that? I took a second to respond. On the one hand, he was a bit of a douche. On the other, maybe his heart was in the right place, and he was one of Logan’s best friends. If I wanted any kind of future with Logan—and God, Idid. I had no idea how, just that I wanted it. Which meant that getting along with his friends was advisable.

“Yeah.” I nodded. “We’re good.”

“Fab. Goodnight, then.” With that, Kyle’s silhouette sank back into the couch, darkness swallowing him up once more. Humor glinted in his tone as he added, “Kiss Logan from me.”

“Fuck off,” I said, smiling a little.

Kyle snorted, and the room settled into silence. After a parting rap of my knuckles against the doorframe, I moved for the stairs.

Since no light shone through the gap underneath Logan’s bedroom door, I made sure to enter quietly. The curtains weren’t fully closed, letting in just enough light to make him out—fast asleep on the bed, facing the door, on his side with a pillow shoved under oneshoulder. Softness washed over me, so intense that I had to stop for a moment and ground myself.

So. That was a thing now.

I curled one hand into a fist, nails cutting half moons into my palm, and told myself I wasn’t scared. Yeah, Logan might hurt me. But…

‘There’s no one else.’

But it wasLogan.

I shucked my clothes and crawled into bed behind him, skin to skin, one arm around his chest. Even in sleep, he shifted into me like it was second nature.

12

Morning meant a gradual slide into consciousness—sunshine drenching the backs of my lids in orange, my arm around Logan’s chest where I lay tucked up against his back. Slowly, I shifted away and raised myself up to study him.

Sleep had wiped all tension from his features. His lips were parted to release quietly snuffling breaths, gold-tipped lashes fanned out against his cheeks, rays of morning light glinting in his hair and on his forehead, sharpening the bridge of his nose. In five days, he’d be gone.

It didn’t carry the same urgency as the three-seconds-to-boommoment that action movies loved to exploit. But to me, it loomed just as large.

I wanted to keep him.

After Michael, I’d trained myself out of needing anyone—or rather, I’d trained myself out of needing a guy to hold my hand. Friends, though? Nia and Katie were my chosen family. My life was better because of them. Was it wrong to want people like that in my life? People who lifted me up rather than knocked me down.

Logan didn’t stifle me. He...

He made me happy.

‘Isn’t that what most people want?’

I shoved the tangled sheet off my body, slid out of bed, and gathered my clothes. For a long moment, I stood in the doorway to study him, my skin paper-thin and taut with something like hope.

I needed to talk to Nia. It was her turn to take theBlueberry Seasfor a refill, so she’d be up and out already. If I hurried, I might just catch her before she left. I dressed quickly and thought about leaving a note but couldn’t find the words, thoughts buzzing like flies. So I tore a blank page out of a notebook Logan had half-filled with his chicken scratch thesis scribbles, drew a smiling face, and left it on my side of the bed.

My side of the bed. God.

The door clicked shut with a strange sort of poignance as I left the cabin. As usual, there was something magical about the resort this early in the morning—a slumbering giant, set to wake once the first guests called for breakfast. A hummingbird darted over the path, butterflies staggering between blossoms as though drunk on nectar, the surrounding jungle jostling with life.

I skipped a coffee detour—fortunate, as I found Nia already on the boat, about to start the engine. She waited for me to hop aboard, both of us quiet until we’d made it out of the bay. I hugged her from behind, hunching to rest my chin on her shoulder, and she leaned back. A gentle breeze rushed through the open windows of the wheelhouse, the radio crackling with occasional static. Quiet hour on the marine channel.

Sunlight bounced off the waves, and I blinked into the brightness. “I’m in love with Logan.”

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