Page 69 of We Were Something
Logan didn’t actually ever say we’d be spending the night on the boat, something I find endlessly amusing. But hedidask if I wanted to head out with him ‘for the weekend,’ so I’m assuming we’ll be bunking together.
I’m not poking fun at him about it as I don’t want to mock his attempts to progress things between us.He might struggle here and there to communicate his intentions, but I can see a shift in his confidence with me, in the way he’s starting to take control. I don’t necessarilyneedthat from him, but the last thing I want is for things to fail to evolve because Logan hasn’t gotten comfortable being himself. I feel like his moments of surety with me are an indication that he’s starting to come out of his shell and show me the real him.
And I can’t help but enjoy what I see.
“Here you go,” he says, emerging from below deck with a gin and tonic for me and a glass of wine for himself.
“Thanks.”
I accept the drink and sit on one of the padded bench seats that surround the wheel then take a long sip, savoring the hint of sweetness that’s always buried somewhere beneath the zesty, citrusy flavor.
“Thankyou, for coming out here with me this weekend,” he says, leaning back against the pushpit. “I know it was a last-minute escape, but…it’s exactly what I needed. To get out on the water.” He pauses. “To spend some time with you.”
I grin, feeling an unfamiliar flush coloring my neck and cheeks at his transparency, words like that not coming from him very often.
“I love when you do that.”
“What?”
“When you tell me exactly how you feel,” I say. “I can tell it doesn’t come naturally to you, that it’s difficult to share with me. It just makes your willingness to be honestanywaymean so much more.”
A part of me worries I’m getting too deep with him, making this into more than what either of us wants or is ready for. But at the same time, part of me worries what will happen if I push against the desire to go deep. If I refuse to allow what feels so surprisingly natural to me—what hasneverfelt natural to me in the past—to come to fruition.
“Is it that obvious when I’m uncomfortable?” he asks.
I shake my head. “I don’t think it’s noticeable to everyone.”
He grins at me. “You think you’ve just finally dialed in to the right channel to know what all my facial expressions and little tics mean?”
“Not all of them, but I do think I’m getting pretty good at it.”
He hums then takes a sip of his wine, not agreeing or disagreeing with my assessment. Just acknowledging it and moving on.
“So your sister is back in town,” he says, referring to the fact that he met her earlier today when picking me up from the house. “Are you two close?”
“Oh my gosh, yes,” I tell him. “Very close. We’re actually Irish twins, and she is one of my favorite people on this earth.”
Logan laughs. “That’s high praise.”
I nod. “It is. Though she pissed me the hell off yesterday. That’s just sister shit, though. Love her one day, hate her the next. Ultimately, I’m just glad she’s home so we can get some time together.”
“What happened?” he asks as he eyes the compass next to the wheel and shifts it slightly to the left.
I lie back on the padded bench, propping my hands beneath my head and crossing one leg over the other, then close my eyes, enjoying the way the end-of-day sun warms my face.
“She broke up with her hanger-on boyfriend—finally—and got a full-time job in New York.”
“Well that doesn’t sound horrible.”
“No, it’s actually amazing. This Oren guy was such a user, so I’m glad he’s gone. And Penny has been wanting to actually settle in the city and not travel so much, so the job is super perfect for her.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“She wants me to movewithher to New York and finish my degree.”
When Logan doesn’t respond, I peek open an eye to find him staring at me.
“And you don’t want to go back to New York?”
