ELLIE
Istood in my hotel room—myownhotel room—getting ready to go out with Logan. I hadn’t thought much about what the sleeping arrangements would be, but now that we were here, I felt a flicker of disappointment. A part of me had hoped we’d be sharing a room.
It wasn’t just about convenience. It was curiosity. This quiet, aching pull toward Logan had only grown stronger lately, and part of me wanted to lean into it. Explore it. We’d always had a connection, but ever since I came back to Faircloud, something about us felt… deeper.
He was there after Buck. He was here now after Miles. Every time I broke, Logan was the one picking up the pieces.
And sometimes I worried he might think I was using him—that I only showed up when I needed saving. But that wasn’t it. I cared about him. Deeply. Whether he needed me or not, I’d show up for him just the same. Because he wasn’t just dependable or safe. He waseverything.The steady presence I hadn’t known I could crave from him.
I slipped on my boots and smoothed the hem of my navy-blue dress, short and soft with a flow that made me feel free. Myhair was straightened, hanging down my back. In the mirror, my brown eyes stared back as I dabbed on lip gloss and pressed my lips together.
I seldom had the urge to get dressed up. I was more of a boots and ratty T-shirt kind of girl. I’d dressed up for Miles, and just the thought of him now made my stomach twist. I cringed, remembering that night—his voice, the way his hand had gripped my arm, and how I ran.
He was still in Faircloud.
I’d been trying all day to block him out, to pretend none of it ever happened. But I was starting to learn that ignoring the hurt didn’t make it go away. If anything, it gave it power.
Maybe the trick wasn’t to run from the pain, but to walk with it.
To do things scared. To show up, even when it hurt. That was the only way to teach my body and heart that life didn’t stop just because I was bruised. I couldn’t keep hiding from the memories or the mistakes. I had to carry them forward and keep living anyway.
My eyes dropped to the faint marks on my arm. The ones that might’ve looked like nothing to anyone else. A blush, maybe. But I knew better. Irememberedhow they got there.
A humorless laugh escaped me as I exhaled, still staring at my reflection.
I thought leaving my small town behind might be the answer that would solve the feeling of uncertainty. Miles wasn’t Faircloud. He was sleek, unfamiliar yet fresh in the way something far away feels. But I’d learned the hard way that monsters didn’t only live in hometown bars or wear cowboy boots. Sometimes they were from the city and sat in limos.
And that made me wonder—was I just bad at seeing people for who they really were? Had Ieverknown how to spot good character?
Maybe I needed therapy. Or a road map to untangle the knots inside me.
Right now, it was too much. The heartbreak. The self-doubt. The way my trust felt broken in places I hadn’t even known could crack.
But for the next few days? I had Logan.
And that was enough.
Purse slung over my shoulder, I stepped out the door and there he was.
Logan leaned against the railing, waiting. His hair was still damp from a recent shower, already beginning to curl beneath the brim of his cowboy hat. He wore his boots, a pair of light-wash jeans that fit him far too well, and a short-sleeved button-up shirt stretched across his biceps.
“Look at us,” I said, holding my arms out and spinning once. “We clean up pretty nice.”
Logan smiled, easy and slow, and we fell into step side by side.
His breath hitched for the briefest moment. “We do, but you sparkle in every room you enter, Ellie. No matter what you wear.”
My cheeks flushed with heat. Glancing down at the ground, I smiled at the pavement before looking back up to find him still staring at me.
I went down the stairs first, taking one careful step at a time. I felt him behind me, his presence a steady heat at my back. When we reached the bottom, his hand found the small of my back, guiding me gently toward the bar the receptionist had mentioned.
I let him. Fell into the comfort of it. The way we moved together, side by side, chatting all the way—it was something we’d done a hundred times before. Natural. Easy.
The music reached us before the building did, the low beat and twang vibrating through the still evening air. Our boots crunched over loose stone as we crossed the gravel lot. This place screamed small-town charm, tucked in the middle of nowhere with not a single other building in sight.
Logan opened the large wooden door, and I stepped inside, his footsteps close behind.
The bar was something else—walls covered in old metal signs, license plates from every state lining the ceiling. The whole place looked like a cross between an old man’s garage and a honky-tonk haven, and somehow, it worked.
