Page 74 of Paging Dr. Summers

His warm lips sent a zing through me. I loved those zings, but I had this nagging feeling I wouldn’t be enjoying them for much longer. Judging by his standoffish behavior, it seemed like Logan didn’t love the idea of dating a CW girl or the fact that I’d come to emotionally rely on him. My heart told me he was more comfortable with big studio productions, with A-list actors and large budgets. The type of productions Erica would be in.

“Not that his opinion should matter, but he’s not ashamed of you. His poor decisions have nothing to do with you. He’s the loser.”

“So, I’m guessing there’s probably not a family reunion in my future. Not that I’m interested.”

Logan shrugged. “He didn’t say. I think he’s more focused on repairing things at home.”

“Yeah,” I whispered. “Why try to fix things with me?” It wasn’t like I was his daughter or anything.

“Hey,” Logan said affectionately. “You don’t need him. Don’t let him in your beautiful head.”

“On paper, that sounds good.” But I couldn’t help but think that Maxwell didn’t find me worthy of an apology or to be in his life. It kind of does something to a girl—a daughter.

“I know. I wish I could make this better for you.” Logan squeezed my hands before gently placing them on my lap.

“You have. Thank you for letting me cry all over you and steal your bed and for trying to defend my honor. It was really sweet of you.”

Logan’s lips twitched, but the smile never came. “It’s my pleasure. You should get some rest.”

Was I reading too much into it, or was he trying to be done with the conversation? With me? Maybe this fling really had become too much for him. Or had something happened at the Harringtons’ he didn’t want to tell me about? All I knew was something had changed.

Before I could say anything, Logan turned off the lamp and settled back into the chair.

Unlike earlier, when he’d tucked me in and said he’d stay with me until I fell asleep, this felt weird, not romantic.

“You can have your bed. I’ll go home,” I offered.

“I don’t mind. Just rest.” Logan sank farther into the chair, making his point.

I was pretty sure that resting was now out of the question, but I shimmied down under the covers anyway. Mom used to say that everything looked worse in the dark. It was where our vulnerabilities liked to come out and play.

Maybe when the sun rose, the unsettled feeling in my heart would disappear, and Logan and I could go back to our summer of fun. But I had a feeling the fling had come to a crashing halt. Honestly, how could I have thought that things would go back to the way they were after such an intense revelation?

My entire life had just changed. It was a lot to take in.

Logan certainly hadn’t signed up for this plot twist or my more-than-fling-ish feelings. And I didn’t expect him to.

“Good night,” I whispered, peeking at him, wishing I knew what was going on in his head.

“Good night.” He stretched out his legs and propped them on the bed.

I halfway closed my eyes, like a child who was doing a poor job of convincing their parents they were falling asleep, but I hoped Logan was buying it. For a moment, it seemed as if he just planned to sleep, but then he reached for his wedding photo. Even in the dark, I could make out the anguish in his features as he stared at his wife. My heart wrenched for him, for me.

I couldn’t take any more hard truths for the night, so I shut my eyes tight, knowing that when the morning came, things wouldn’t be better. The light would just shine on my glaring reality—the summer as I knew it was over.

Eventually, exhaustion won, and I drifted off to sleep. It couldn’t have been long before I woke up to Logan sitting next to me, gently shaking me, dressed for the day in blue scrubs. I felt bad he had to go to work on such little sleep. His clean shower scent tickled my nose, and I thought to myself it would be a lovely smell to wake up to every day. That, and the stubble on his cheeks. I liked it when he didn’t shave. For a moment, I almost forgot what had transpired the night before, but that didn’t last long.

Logan brushed my hair back, his eyes filled with the same torture I’d witnessed in the early days of summer. It appeared to be stronger than ever.

“I’m sorry to wake you.” His voice was raspy and raw. “But I wanted to say goodbye before I headed to the hospital. And ...,” he paused, swallowing hard. “I’m heading to the airport straight after my shift.”

I knew, instinctively, where he was going, but I asked anyway. “Where are you headed?”

“Seattle,” he exhaled. “I uh ... well ... I just need to be there.”

I knew that Erica was buried there, but I imagined it was the ghost of her that was calling to Logan.

“Okay.” I sat up straight, not knowing what to say.

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