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Neither of us speaks for a long moment.

“You sure you meant to ask for me?” I eventually ask. “Might’ve hit your head harder than they thought.”

Logan's lips twitch, but he doesn’t smile. Just continues to stare at me cautiously, like he's not sure what I'll do. Still doesn't speak. It tears me up inside.

“I’m sorry. I don’t even know what part I’m apologizing for. Vegas? The accident? Fucking you and pushing you too far? Take your pick.”

With a painful groan, he shifts over on the bed. “Then come say it to my face.”

Goddammit.

I cross the room in three long strides before dropping down beside him, once again taking his hand in mine. Fuck, he feels warm. Alive. I can’t stop staring at him. His cheeks are thin under weeks of beard growth, hair long and unwashed around his ears.

“You look like shit,” I whisper.

He just snorts and wrinkles his nose. “You smell like shit. Jesus, Dev, I'm pretty sure your pores are oozing booze right now.”

Blowing out a breath, I glance down at my days old t-shirt and stained jeans. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

“Well. Surprise?”

A laugh leaves my throat, but it sounds brittle. Guilt settles heavily in my chest as I study his frail hand clutching mine. “I… I messed up, man. I should’ve never let you drive that bike.”

“You didn't crash it, Devon.”

“No,” I say, raising my gaze to his. “But I might as well have.”

Logan frowns in thought. “I don't actually remember much about what happened. They say I never might, but… I highly doubt you forced me to drive. This was just a shitty accident.”

“One that almost killed you.”

“But it didn’t,” he counters, guiding my hand to his chest. “I'm here, see? And so are you. That crash could have killed us both, but we're alive, Dev. We were given a second chance. So what are you going to do with it?”

Swallowing hard, I feel his heart thump a beat against my palm. Mine races to match it. “I don't believe in that divine bullshit. We got lucky. That's all.”

“Fine, call it whatever you want. We still made it. So now what?”

Tilting my head, I study his face as if it’ll give me the answer to whatever the fuck he's talking about. “Now what, what? We kiss and make up?”

I mean, I wouldn't be opposed.

Logan rolls his eyes, effectively dismissing the idea, but I don’t miss the way his ears turn pink. “No, I mean what are you going to do with your second chance?”

“Same thing I've been doing,” I shrug, moving my gaze to the window where starlight peeks through the opened blinds like an albatross.

“And what's that? Drink, snort, and fuck your way through life?”

My heart twists at that, but I slip my mask into place with a sneer. “If it works, it works. No need to fix what ain't broke.”

“Don't do that,” he murmurs quietly. “You don't have to pretend with me, Dev.”

“Pretend what?” I laugh cruelly and raise our joined hands between us. “That we're a cute little couple or some shit? Is this what we do now, talk about our feelings?”

“You're the one who grabbed my hand, asshole.”

Letting go instantly, I jump to my feet and cross to the window. “What about you, then, huh? What's Logan gonna do with his shiny new outlook now that he isn't knocking on death's door?”

“Well, first, I'm going to find my wife. And then after that… who knows.”