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I let out a soft cry when he pulls away, and he shoots me his trademark smirk, everything about him looking more lively and refreshed than when he first entered the room.
“There will be plenty more where that came from,” he says before striding towards the door. I can’t see the look he throws at Logan, but I get the gist from the way that Logan’s mouth tightens when they lock eyes.
And then Quaid is out the door, and it’s just Logan and I.
I shift nervously in the bed, wondering how I could have been naked under this man just yesterday, and now today, he might as well just be a stranger.
I’m wearing nothing but an oversized shirt that hits right at my knees, Carter’s I would assume. I slide out of the bed, holding the shirt down so I don’t flash him as I move. I feel awkward, but I need to be closer to Logan. I can’t stand this distance. It’s just a couple of feet, but it may as well as be miles with how he’s acting.
He watches me blankly. I can’t tell what he’s thinking at all as I approach him. I stop just a foot away, my gaze begging him…for anything.
Suddenly, he steps forward, crashing his lips against mine, cutting off all the words I can say. His kiss is desperate. He’s speaking to my soul through this kiss, and I try my best to answer him, kissing him back as good as I’m getting.
The kiss spirals higher and higher, until I finally have to pull away and gasp for breath. I waver unsteadily on my feet, definitely not healed from yesterday. I’m gripping at his shirt, and I release it quickly as the cuts on my hands blare with pain. He leans his forehead against mine, his eyes closed as our breaths tangle together.
“I need to know something,” he says roughly, obviously just as taken with the kiss we just shared as I am. “I need to know that you would love me, even if Quaid and Carter weren’t in the picture. I need to know that I’m more than a package deal, that you see me. I’m not a football star, I don’t create art. I’m not funny or mysterious.”
He laughs bitterly.
“Maybe I don’t even know who I am anymore.” He sighs, and my heart breaks at the amount of self-loathing in just that small sound. “I just need to know that you see me.”
He keeps his eyes closed, like he can’t bear to see my face and what I’m thinking.
I’m quiet for a moment, enough that he starts to tremble like he’s expecting the worst.
“Oh, Logan,” I finally say, tears threaded throughout my voice. “You’ve never been a package deal. I’m sorry if you ever felt that way.”
I pull back and take his face in my hands carefully. His eyes open, and he looks at me hopefully, and the yearning I see in his gaze humbles me.
“I see you. I see your heart, and I love it so much. I see the boy who made sure I had tampons for my first period. The one who stood in front of our whole class and read a poem he wrote just for me. I see the boy who has always been by my side. I see how you’ve always been there for me. I see the sweetness you show to just me. I see the man you’ve become, who gave me a chance right away, despite the fact that I don’t deserve it. I’d be broken if a single part of you changed from who you are today. I see you, Logan Cooper, and I’ve never stopped seeing you. I’m incomplete without you, and that doesn’t change regardless of anyone else. I love you.”
“Say it again,” he says roughly, his eyes alight with a passion that sets my heart on fire with the passion in their depths.
“The whole thing?”
“Say it again, that you love me.”
I press a soft kiss on his lips. “I love you, Logan Cooper. I’ll love you for my whole life, and on and on for forever after that. I loveyou.”
Not even death could ever make me forget the look on his face at my proclamation.
I just hope he’ll remember it after I’m gone.
I sleep a few more hours after that, wrapped in Logan’s arms. When I wake up, Quaid’s on my other side, his nose tucked into my neck.
It would be perfect, except Carter’s not here. I’ll never not need all three of them.
I slide out of their embrace and knee my way towards the end of the bed, cringing with how sore I feel. I skipped my medication yesterday. That can’t happen.
Quickly going into the bathroom, I go through my never-ending bottles of pills, staring at myself in the mirror forlornly. Today, there is no hiding that I look sick. I’m pale, my cheeks are gaunt, my eyes are dull. I smooth down my riotous curls and pinch my cheeks. I’m going to need lots of makeup today to avoid having the guys drag me to the hospital.
Sighing, I throw on makeup and run some product in my hair before putting on a denim jumper that I’d bought right before the trip. It was the kind of outfit I’d never had the courage to wear before, but now…YOLO and all of that.
Logan and Quaid are still sleeping when I come back into the bedroom, and I’m tempted to take a picture of them. They’re both curled towards where I was sleeping, so they’re just inches away from each other. It’s adorable really. I control myself enough to only take three pictures, and then I softly tread out of the room, closing the door softly behind me so they can continue to sleep. We’re all worn out after what happened.
Carter’s sitting on the patio, staring off towards the ocean while he sips an espresso. A carton of cigarettes is on the table next to him. I cringe when I see them. He’d told me that he only smokes when he’s stressed, and judging by the ashtray filled with cigarette butts, he’s really stressed.
“It’s a beautiful view,” I comment as he exhales a smoky plume. We both watch the smoke drift through the wind away from us.
