Page 41 of Meet Me in the Valley
“Oh, come on!” Logan whisper-yells. “He’s about to come!” I hear his soft chuckle, then his feet padding after me. He throws his arm around my shoulder, burying his face into my neck with a laugh. My eyes roll, but my smile is hard to hide as I cover my face with my hands.
Leave it to Logan Harper to always find a way to make me smile, no matter how annoying and aggravating he can be.
Or how sexy and fucking charming he is, too.
Our steps are uneven, clumsy. We cling to each other just to stay upright, laughter bubbling between stumbles.
He’s so effortlessly carefree, and I find myself leaning closer, drawn in like I’m trying to absorb whatever it is that makes him feel so light.
Everything about him sets me on edge. Yet somehow, he calms me, too. It’s a constant push and pull. Tension and ease, chaos and quiet. An easy kind of gravity that only makes sense when it’s Logan I’m orbiting.
The thought that has me spinning is just how terrifyingly easy it is to fall for your best friend.
Maybe it wasn’t just one moment. Maybe it was a slow build, a quiet stacking of memories, one on top of the other. We laid the bricks ourselves without realizing it.
Laughter, glances, late-night talks, touches that hovered a second too long.
And then one day, all those moments hardened into something solid. Something undeniable. Now it’s right in front of me—a wall too high to climb over, too obvious to ignore. And with that, the truth hits me.
I’ve already fallen for him. When my eyes linger too long on his profile, he looks down at me with the brightest of smiles, and I have to believethatsmile is for no one else but me.
Chapter Twelve
TIA
We’ve made this drive before. Usually, the car is anything but quiet—filled with our voices, our laughter echoing from stories we’ve told a dozen times. It always ends the same. A casual goodbye, a chaste hug. Sometimes no hug at all. A“Text me when you land.”A“See you soon.”
But now, as I stare out the passenger window, watching plane after plane slice through the sky, Logan takes the final turn toward the airport. And then a foreign, awful ache settles in my chest.
How can you already miss someone who hasn’t even left yet when they’re right next to you?
Logan pulls up to the departure curb and places the car in park. We sit in a brief, comfortable silence before turning to each other with a sad smile.
It hits me that this will be the longest we’ve been apart since college. So much of my life over the last decade has been interwoven with Logan’s. Crazy the realizations you get when you fall for someone. A veil lifts, revealing every little thing you were blind to before. I feel too exposed—too naked.
My palms get clammy, and I rub them against my leggings. Without a word, we both make a move to open our doors, meeting at the trunk of the SUV.
I don’t know if it’s the tidal wave of gratitude crashing over me or something deeper finally breaking free, but before I can stop myself, I launch into his arms. He catches me effortlessly, lifting me off the ground as I bury my face into the warm curve of his neck, giving myself permission to melt into him.
Something in that moment binds us in a brand new way, a tether so unique to us, it can’t be duplicated. It’s that bone-shaking, heart-stopping, life-altering kind of feeling I’ve secretly longed for.
I just never imagined that longing would point me straight to my best friend.
But with the thrill comes fear.
Fear of losing Logan.
Fear of falling too fast, too hard, for a guy who’s never seen a past one-night with a woman.
Fear I won’t be enough for him.
But when his arms tighten around my waist with my feet dangling in the air, it’s almost enough for that fear to dissipate. His hold grounds me in a way I need it to. Logan’s been doing a lot of that lately. Grounding me when my body wants to float off the ground to escape, to avoid, tonotface reality.
I link my fingers behind his neck, and slowly, he lowers me. It feels like a lifetime before my feet hit the concrete. I hold his gaze steady, hungry, in mine. Our foreheads touch as his gaze sears into me, soft but certain—an unspoken promise neither of us needs to say aloud. It needs to stay that way. We leave whatever the hell this is silent, safe in this bubble I’m desperate to keep from popping.
I hold my breath, in equal parts anticipation and hesitation.
Time drips to a stop. The collective roar of planes, cars, and faceless strangers fade into the background.
