Page 19

He leans down to press a light kiss to my hand that’s wrapped around him, and it jolts something awake inside me because that’s unusual, even for us. I squeeze him tighter in response, holding on until sleep slowly starts to pull me under.

“Logan,”I say, nudging him lightly. “Your mom.”

He groans, peeling his face away from my shoulder and cracking one eye open. “You talk to her. I’m sleeping,” he mumbles, shoving his face back into my arm.

“I’m not ready for that conversation,” I huff a little laugh as I shove the phone into his hand.

Reluctantly, he sits up and swipes to answer the call. “Hi, Mom,” he says, his voice still groggy.

I try not to listen, but it’s impossible not to hear the warmth in her voice as she speaks. Logan’s parents have always made me feel like part of the family since my mom is a few hours away, and I love them more for it.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Logan says. His voice starting to soften and lose the edge of sleep. “No, I wasn’t asleep—well, not really…Yeah, Ryder’s here.”

At that, he shoots me a look, one eyebrow raised as if he’s daring me to say something about being in bed with him. I bite back a laugh and flop back against the pillows, letting my eyes drift shut again. Logan keeps talking, and I have a feeling this call will lead to something.

“Yeah, I’ll tell him…Okay…Love you too,” he says finally, hanging up with a sigh.

“What’d she want?”

“She wants us to come over today,” Logan says, stretching his arms over his head, and I try not to stare at his body, but damn does he look good.

“Something about Dad fixing the back deck and needing an extra set of hands,” he adds.

“Us?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah, and if I’m going, you’re not getting out of it,” he says with a side eye glare. “And she’s not above bribing you. She told me to tell you she’s making dinner.”

“She’s evil. She knows I can’t say no to a home-cooked meal I don’t have to cook.”

“She’s smart,” Logan corrects, grinning. “And she misses you. Apparently, I’m not entertaining enough on my own. I think she’s missing Michael. He hasn’t been home since Christmas.”

“Alright, let’s go,” I say with a sigh. I didn’t expect to spend my Sunday working on a deck project, but there’s no way I’m saying no to spending another whole day with Logan.

We make the drive to Logan’s parents’ house. It’s a drive we’ve done more times than I can count, and it always reminds me how lucky he is to have them so close, and how I should call my mom more often. The last time I spoke to her was when I called to thank her for the cookies she sent last week.

When we pull into the driveway, Logan’s mom is already on the porch, waving us in like she’s been counting down the minutes until we arrive. “Hey, you two!” she calls out, her voice full of that warm motherly energy that somehow makes everything feel right in the world.

She wraps Logan in a hug first, holding him a little longer than necessary to make him squirm. “Mom,” he groans, but there’s more affection than annoyance in his voice.

Then she turns toward me. “Ryder, sweetheart, you look too thin. Are you eating enough?” she asks, pulling me into a hug that smells like she’s already been baking.

“Yes, Mrs. Hart, I’m eating,” I laugh as she releases me.

“Don’t you worry, I’ll make extra tonight so you boys can each take some food home,” she says with a wink, ruffling Logan’s dirty blonde hair as he lovingly swats her hand away.

Inside, the house definitely smells like she’s already got something in the oven, and I see Logan’s dad already outside through the window. We walk out to meet him, and he waves when he sees us, his smile so much like Logan’s it always throws me a little.

“Hey, finally! I took on way more than I could handle withthis deck by myself. Should’ve known, but that’s what I’ve got you two for,” he says with a chuckle.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re here,” Logan says, smiling as he grabs a pair of gloves from the pile on the table and tosses me a pair too.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Hart, Logan’s just here for moral support. I’ll do the real work,” I say, slipping the gloves on, shooting Logan a smirk.

“Ha-ha,” Logan deadpans, nudging me with his elbow as we head over to where his dad is. “Don’t let him fool you, Dad. Ryder can’t hammer a nail without nearly breaking his thumb. Happened at our last house. It was kinda funny though, so maybe we’ll get some free entertainment today.”

I level him with a glare, but he beams back at me.

“You two are ridiculous,” Mr. Hart laughs, handing us a few tools. “Hopefully, no one breaks anything today. And quit calling me Mr. Hart, Ryder. You know it’s Jim.”