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So don’t.

I want to say it, but instead I force myself to nod, even though every part of me is screaming to ask him to skip it. “It’ll be daytime. I’m sure it’ll be fine. Kyle will probably be at work, and we’ve got the cameras now,” I say instead.

Besides, it’s only three hours. I used to go days without seeing him, but I’m no longer the same person I was beforethis all started. Not after I learned what it’s like to be his sole focus, to get all his kisses, to feel so completely and utterly loved—even if neither of us has said we’reinlove with each other yet.

I feel it.

It’s not a new feeling, either. It’s more like…all these years of knowing him are suddenly coming into focus in a new way. The signs have been there for years, I just didn’t let myself see them, and I wonder if he convinced himself it was all platonic, too.

There was the time I had the flu, and I told him to stay out of my room so I wouldn’t get him sick. While I was sleeping, he ran to the store to buy ingredients to make me homemade soup. Then, despite my protests, he sat on the floor next to my bed with his pillow and blankets, in case I needed anything, and so I didn’t have to be alone.

Or the bookshelf I’d bought and let sit unassembled for far too long. One Saturday, I came home to find it fully assembled and lined with all my favorite books. When I asked him about it, all he said was, “You weren’t going to do it, and I got bored.” All of my books are still organized by color, and I never want to change that because it’s so Logan, and every time I look at them, it reminds me of him.

Whenever we take road trips to visit my mom, he always puts on my playlists. I know he’s grown to like my music over the years, but he does it because he knows it makes me happy. And he almost always comes with me, like we’ve been boyfriends all along.

Any time I’ve gone without him, it’s felt like something was missing, and even though I love my mom, I didn’t enjoy the visits as much. It felt like I was always counting down the hours until I could be back with him.

And then, the Monday a few weeks ago, when I called him to tell him about the email while he was at work, he didn’t hesitate to tell his boss he needed a half day, and he showed up at my door. Told me to pack a bag and told his boss he needed to work from home indefinitely.

I used to think that was just Logan being Logan. That he’s a good friend who cares about me, but now I see it so much more clearly. You don’t make soup from scratch when someone is sick and sleep on the floor beside their bed unless you love them. You don’t drop everything or take half days to make sure someone isn’t alone through something scary unless they matter more than anyone else.

He’s been loving me in a thousand quiet ways over the years, and I’ve been loving him back just as long.

If this is what it feels like to fall in love with your best friend—this slow, steady, undeniable realization that everything you’ve ever wanted has been standing beside you the whole time—then I’m the luckiest man alive.

I’m more dependent on him now than I’ve ever been in the ten years we’ve known each other, and I’m not ashamed of that. Not after everything we’ve been through. Not after the fear, the violation, the way he’s shown up for me without hesitation every single time.

That kind of love—the quiet, constant, show-up-every-day kind—doesn’t scare me.

Losing it does.

And the idea of being without him, even for three hours, feels terrifying.

Logan nudges my knee with his. “Hey.”

I look up and he’s watching me carefully. “I’m coming back. You know that, right?”

I nod, my throat tight.

“I won’t be gone long. I’ll text you the second I get there and when I’m coming home. It should be right around lunch,” he reassures.

“Okay,” I croak out as I reach for his hand and thread my fingers through his. I love being able to touch him so freely. “I just hate how hard this feels,” I whisper.

“I know, baby.” He nods. “But it won’t be like this forever. We’ll figure out how to prove it’s him. Just a little longer,” he soothes, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to my temple.

“Now come on, let’s go lay down. I need to wrap myself around you, okay?”

21

LOGAN

Iwake up before my alarm because my anxiety over going into the office won’t let me sleep. I’ve been tossing and turning for what feels like all night—it’s a miracle Ryder is still snoring lightly beside me. He’s always been a heavy sleeper, though, so I lean over and brush my lips against his forehead before dragging myself out of bed.

He’s so cute like this, peacefully curled up in the sheets, completely unaware that my brain is spiraling over leaving him. I want to crawl back in and pull him into me, pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist.

The realization hit me hard last night that the only thing in the world I care about now is him. We curled up together, kissed slowly, held each other through every lingering and unspoken fear, and it ended up being one of the best nights of my life. That makes leaving him alone for hours on end today feel even more unbearable. I don’t want him out of my sight for a second.

I sigh and force myself into the morning routine I haven’t missed at all, starting by turning on the shower. When I stepin, the water is scalding against my skin, but I don’t care. I hope the burn will settle my thoughts, or at least distract me from them, but they keep playing on repeat.