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His expression softened further, and he leaned forward to kiss the top of her head. Everly guessed it was as close as someone that grumpy would get to melting.
Her cheeks flushed. She didn’t want to keep harping on this, butnow that they’d proverbially invited Sady and James into the room, Everly needed to know where Logan stood on what was happening on the show. “Does… does Sady know we’re doing this?” She gestured between them. And squawked when she realized what her question sounded like. “Not the sex, obviously, but us dating?”
He chuckled, and his eyes pored over her, slowly, like she was a book lying open for him to read. “I haven’t told her, but I think she might have her suspicions. Why?”
Everly sat up to face him. Outside of their little bubble, the air was still cold, and it dragged chilly fingers up her skin. Snatching the shirt she’d brought down for herself, she shrugged it on. “It feels… I don’t know… shady for her to bring James back into the show when what you and I have going on is… real.” In five episodes, Everly’s arc had gone from unrequited love, to a growing connection between her and Logan, to a love triangle which, judging by Thursday’s episode, Sady was literally writing herself. Everly didn’t want any of the fiction to impact what was actually happening between her and Logan.
“She’s not—” He stopped, his eyes narrowing as he heard himself. “What I mean is, I know she can come across a bit overbearing, and her methods may seem a little unorthodox.” Everly cocked her head, her retort already poised on her tongue, but he rested a hand lightly on her thigh to quiet her. “Especially when you’re the one she’s editing. But she knows how to make waves. How to get people to notice what she’s doing. I trust her process because I’ve seen it work. And I believe in what she’s doing with this show.”
Everly crossed her arms. “I do, too, obviously. You don’t have to tell me how revolutionary this show is—I’ve been waiting for something like it my whole life. After I watched the very first episode, I wore leggings outside the house for the first time in a year. Jazzy’s rant about how clothes should be for everyone hit me exactly where I needed it.” She sighed. “Iknow the show needs new viewers and high ratings. But it feels like Sady’s desire to grow her audience is more important than representing me or my life authentically.” She swallowed against the lump in her throat. “I spend a lot of time wondering why she picked me if she doesn’t think people will care about my story without all these embellishments.”
Everly was proud of her diplomacy, because she had some less-than-kind words for what she thought of Sady’s edits. Her fingers tugged at the waist of her shirt.
Logan laid a hand over hers to still them. “She picked you because your story is real, and raw, and relatable.” His fingers slipped between hers, and he gave them a squeeze. “Everyone has felt the way you do.”
He slid closer and set his legs on either side of her, then wrapped his arms around her waist. Leaning down, he snuck his face beneath the collar of her half-buttoned tunic, brushing the ghost of a kiss to her clavicle. “So I lied earlier. I have looked at the comments.”
Everly jerked back. “What? Why?”
He shrugged. “I’m on the show, too, now. I was curious what people were saying.”
She rolled her eyes playfully. “The allure of fame comes for all of us. Even the lumberjacks.”
With a shake of his head, he kissed her neck again, this time adding a tease of teeth. A love bite for her oh-so-biting sarcasm, obviously.
“And under the romance stuff, there are a lot of people who really connect with you. Who have felt like they were too much or chose to hide to feel safe or who didn’t know how to follow their dreams.” With one last kiss, he eased back so he could gaze into her face. “Some of them talked about doing things they were scared to do after watching you do the same. The story you’re telling matters, and it’s making a difference, even through all the… noise… of Sady’s approach.”
His words gave Everly that naked, torn-open feeling, even as theybuoyed her. The idea that people were seeing the truth of her in the episodes—and that ithelpedthem—filled her heart to bursting, but it also felt like a lot of responsibility. What if she failed? What if she couldn’t handle a tattoo artist apprenticeship and get a design job? What if no one liked her book covers? What if she did all those things, but she was bad at them? What kind of impact would that have on the viewers who supported her, and on the show and what it stood for?
She leaned her forehead on Logan’s shoulder and settled her body against his. The arm with his tattoos was draped across her lap, and she traced a finger over each of the paw prints. “What were their names?”
“Cashew, Jewels, Toby, and Sundae.”
“Sundae? Like the dessert?”
He nodded.
“Oh my god.” Another incredible dog name. Someone needed to give this man a trophy. “Please tell me about this dog.”
He rested his chin on her head. “He was the best dog who ever lived.”
“Ravioli and Alan will be pretty put out when they hear that.”
He laughed. “You love every dog a little bit differently. Your heart grows to make room for them, because they each take up their own spot.” He ran a finger over the shell of her ear. “Sundae was my dog when I was a kid. I told you I had a pretty shitty childhood.”
Everly gave his arm a gentle squeeze to signal she remembered.
His Adam’s apple bobbed against a hard swallow. “My parents…” Logan scratched his beard, his eyes shifting to the floor. “They fought alot. And they took their anger out on me. It sucked. That dog was the only one who made me feel loved.” He blew out a breath, and his jaw flexed, like the words were hard to get out of his mouth. “Sundae and I would sneak out for a walk when they started yelling. Whenone of them called me lazy or useless for leaving a shoe in the wrong spot or a dish on the counter, he’d let me cry into his neck until I felt better.” Logan’s eyes sank shut, and he paused for a long time, gathering himself.
“They didn’t want the hassle of an aging dog, so they surrendered him when he got old. I visited the shelter every day. It was the only thing I could do.” His body stiffened, and he cleared his throat. Everly’s stomach twisted. A part of her knew what was coming, and she wished she could press her temple to his, absorb the next details so he didn’t have to share them out loud. “No one ever adopted him. He died in that cage. And even though I was, like, thirteen at the time, I swore I’d do better by others someday. To make it up to him.”
“That’s why you adopt the older ones.” Everly pressed a hand to his heart. The pain in his voice was palpable, and a sadness sat heavy on her bones. She knew firsthand how much animals could comfort kids. She couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for him to have to say goodbye to his dog in such an awful way when his life was already so tumultuous. She deepened her touch. It was the only way she could think to make sure he knew she was there. That she was hearing him.
That she was listening with her whole self.
“Exactly,” he said softly.
“My grandmother started the sanctuary for similar reasons. She wanted animals to have a place to live out whatever was left of their lives, comfortable and in peace.”
