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A circus of flutters bounces around my chest, using my heart strings as a trapeze.
I’ve been grappling with the future and the monumental dread that hangs over my head. In a month and a half, Logan will be at the University of Michigan, and I’ll be on the other side of the country at Stanford.
Was it foolish to let myself care for him as deeply as I do? Probably. But regardless of the consequences, my decision for tonight is already made.
“Follow me,” I whisper, not waiting for his answer before I tug him toward the clearing and my secret spot.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were just trying to get me alone so you can kiss me.”
I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me in that ornery, fully amused way of his. “Good thing I can kiss you whenever I want.”
“Can you?”
I stop us just short of the bush full of white flowers where I’ve hidden my loot and drag his smiling mouth to mine.
“You’re teasing… me… on purpose,” I say between the frantic, silly kisses he peppers along my jaw and lips.
He pulls back, searching my face before placing a swift peck on my nose. “It’s easy to do when you fall for it every time.”
I roll my eyes, yanking him to the ground with me before carefully reaching into the thorny bush. “Got it.”
He swipes the labelless bottle from my hand. “What is this?”
“Vodka, I think.” I take it back and unscrew the top. “Cheers.”
I wince at the potency of the alcohol as it burns a path down my throat. When it hits the pit of my stomach, it gathers my rising nerves in a decadent, warm embrace.
I’ve been thinking about this night for the last two weeks, and I don’t know what I’ll do if he rejects me.
“Don’t be such a baby.” Logan grabs the bottle and tips it to his lips, then takes three large gulps, one right after another.
The corner of my lip quirks. “Who knew you were such a rebel?”
“Shut up,” he mutters, scrunching his face at me.
“One day, you’re gonna get your belly full of your dad bossing you around.” We pass the vodka back and forth, watching a group of men form a circle for Hallevah. “You’ll finally stand your ground with him, and I’m gonna love every minute of it.”
Logan’s pinky finger finds mine even though he’s transfixed on the start of the ancient dance, and I wonder if he realizes how often he seeks my touch.
I wonder if he secretly knows how much I need it.
The sound of the drums fills the air as the blindfolded women twirl between various partners, testing each man by touch, skill, and blind connection. Their bodies move in perfect rhythm, each step the men take a testament to their skill and strength, and I’m transfixed, unable to look away from their hypnotic movements.
“And what about you? Will you conform, go to college as Patrick wants you to, and become a corporate princess?”
“Never. People like me aren’t good with all that business stuff.” My tongue loosens with the alcohol thrumming through me, my gaze still fixed on the couples in the distance. “Maybe I won’t go to college after all. Maybe I’ll stay here, in Topica Bay, and sell seashell necklaces and live on the beach.”
“You say ‘people like you’ like it’s a bad thing,” he muses. “But do you know how amazing the world would be with more of you in it?”
“I mean, probably pretty amazing,” I say.
“Pretty. Fucking. Amazing.” He smiles, drawing my forehead to his with one hand clamped over the back of my neck. “You’re the first person to volunteer to help the locals around here. You never hesitate to get your hands dirty. You’re talkative, silly, and so goddamn bright it’s intimidating, and this community loves you for it.”
In the distance I hear garbled shouts, but it’s faint compared to the incessant pounding of my heart.
Logan swallows, sitting back to say something. “I…”
A flip-flop soars past my head, narrowly avoiding smacking his chest.
