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Taylor points a finger in my direction, and I make a show of rolling my eyes. “Okay, yes, in hindsight, fire was a bad idea. We're not there yet, but this is different. I’ve been thinking about something we can do to generate some views online and it came to me last night.” While I was trying not to think about Logan’s body next to mine, about how much I wanted to wake him up by climbing on top of his face. “What do you guys think about a tandem flip? Two men, one bike.”

Everyone freezes.

Huckslee is the first to recover, protein shake forgotten as he rotates slowly to face me. “You want them both on one bike? Doing a backflip?”

Taylor lifts his head, expression caught somewhere between horror and astonishment. “That sounds fucking insane.”

“Absolutely not,” his boyfriend argues. He turns to Logan, who's been quietly sipping an energy drink in the corner. “You're seriously okay with this?”

Logan’s bloodshot gaze flicks over to me, but he stays silent, so I continue. “Exactly! Think about how cool this would be. It would blow people’s minds.”

Christian lets out a low whistle, rubbing his jaw as he squints like he's doing calculations in his head. “I mean… it could work. We could do it.”

Huck sucks his teeth before glaring at me. “You’re actually trying to kill them, aren't you?”

“Don't be dramatic. Imagine the crowd! The social media posts. They'd go viral.”

And I’m getting bored of capturing the same old stunts, if I’m being honest.

Taylor and Christian exchange some freaky, silent best-friend communication thing before Christian turns back to me with a gleam in his eye. “Alright, chica loca. Let’s try it.”

“You’re all nuts,” Logan cuts in, setting his drink down with a clank.

He's been… quiet ever since we got to Louisville yesterday. Almost cold and withdrawn.

I arch a brow at him, folding my arms indignantly. “What, no faith in their skill?”

He huffs out a dry laugh. “Oh, I’ve got faith… that they’ll either pull it off or end up in the ER.”

“Thank you,” Huckslee adds, gesturing toward his best friend. “Finally, another voice of reason.”

Logan shrugs, his expression softening a little from the steel mask he’s worn lately. “Honestly, though, if anyone can pull off something like that, it’s you two.”

Huck throws his hands up in defeat as Christian snorts, elbowing Taylor in the ribs. “Hear that, cariño? We’re the shit.”

“Just don't die.” Logan grimaces. “I looked up our insurance last night. It doesn't cover death by dumbass.”

“No, it doesn't,” I agree, my chest tightening just a little at how easily he took my side. When our eyes meet, a grin quirks his lips, and I tear my gaze away. “They won't die, though. Break a limb, possibly. But they'll survive.”

Taylor laughs as he takes his empty bowl to the sink. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Huck scowls. “I see nothing remotely funny about this.”

“Don't worry, baby. I'm a certified badass, remember?”

“Doesn’t mean you're invincible.”

“Look at it this way. If I crash, you get to nurse me back to health. All of me.”

I chuckle, shaking my head at their banter, but my amusement fades the second I spot Arya slipping out of the RV bathroom—with Devon in tow. Her face is flushed, hair messy, and she won’t look at anyone as she tugs down the hem of her dress.

Devon, on the other hand, looks smug as shit. He runs a hand down his wrinkled tank top and saunters over to Christian, plucking the coffee mug out of his hands. A slow, heated smirk runs across Christian's face, but he doesn’t say anything. Just pulls his giggling girlfriend onto his lap and immediately starts sucking her face. I roll my eyes but when they land on Dev, his attention is on Logan.

The two share some kind of silent battle that ends with Devon saluting him before walking out of the RV to smoke. Logan drops his gaze to the floor, suddenly pale, and I don't like how it makes me feel. He looks… unwell. I fucking hate it. I wish I could fix it, ask if he’s okay or needs to talk. If he needs me. But I don't.

I already know the answer. He made that clear when he left me in Vegas.

Instead, I clear my throat and clap loudly to break up the PDA. “Alright, love birds. Finish up. We’ve got work to do.”