Page 18 of Meet Me in the Valley (Oakwood Valley #2)
It takes a second to adjust to seeing in the dark, both of us squinting to gain focus.
Our eyes blow wide as saucers when we make out two faint silhouettes behind a shed close to us, just between a few grapevines.
The vines surrounding us give us some coverage, but it doesn’t take long for us to realize who’s behind the shed.
Jackson and Isabel.
And they’re totally fucking.
“Holy shit,” Logan whispers. “That’s fucking hot.”
I slap Logan’s chest, and he mouths “What?” to me with that boyish grin I love so much.
He’s still on top of me, forearms caging my head.
I have to tilt my head backward a bit to see Jackson holding Isabel up against the shed, slowly moving in and out of her.
Their shadows move suggestively. Erotically. Sensually.
It is pretty fucking hot.
My cheeks flush with intense heat, listening to their soft pants and moans.
“That could’ve been you,” I whisper to Logan. The intent was to be playful, but then I remember how they walked off together earlier, laughing and smiling.
It’s a sobering reminder that Logan is not mine. Not mine to claim. Not mine to love. But he is my best friend, and I won’t let anything get in the way of that. Especially my stupid heart.
“It was never going to be me, T.”
I tear my gaze away from Isabel and Jackson, my face etched with confusion as I search Logan’s eyes for clarity. “You mean … you didn’t? You never …?”
“No. I didn’t.”
I bite my lip to stop the smile that’s spreading across my face quicker than a wildfire. Logan doesn’t miss a thing, cocking one eyebrow.
“Does that satisfy you?” he asks with seduction in his tone.
The moans from Isabel and Jackson grow louder, clearly chasing their climaxes. The intensity is growing—not just between them, but between us.
Logan’s erection presses against my thigh, hard and demanding. My fingers tingle, itching to reach down and explore it myself.
“Yes,” I admit. “I didn’t like seeing you with her.” Logan finds satisfaction with my answer, subtly grinding his length as the sweet friction hits the spot I need him to.
My traitorous body hums with need. It’s been too long since I’ve had a proper lay and the mess between my legs is proof.
“Well, I’m not with her now, am I?” The deep timbre of his voice sends violent shivers down my spine.
My eyes flutter shut, and I shake my head no, falling deeper into the sensation of our body heat thrumming together. The high from the weed heightens every sense from head to foot, my body literally vibrating with extreme arousal. It’s maddening.
I sink my teeth into my bottom lip to suppress a whimper.
Think, Tia. If you keep going, you’re on a path to get hurt. He can’t give you what you want. You’re both just really, really stoned. And drunk. God help you.
I can’t let Logan take this any further. Give that man an inch, and he’s taking a whole damn marathon. He may be halfway to the finish line already with the way I idiotically blurted out that I’m in love with him.
“You are so horny right now, aren’t you?” he smirks, eyes trailing down to my lips. “Do you like listening to them? They’re both close. I can tell.”
Yes, I’m horny. Yes, I like listening to them. And I know they’re close. I can tell, too.
There’s a playful lilt to his tone, but the way his breath fans my cheek and his thumbs absentmindedly stroke lazily behind my ears has me dizzy—and ready to make more stupid decisions.
With all the strength and willpower I can muster, I lift my hips to buck Logan off, pinning him beneath me as I push all of my weight onto him.
He lands on his back with a quiet thud, his eyes lighting up with amusement. Logan’s hands rest casually behind his head, a silent challenge he’s used to edge me all night. He wants me to give in, give him my body, and whatever else he can take.
I can’t. As good as it feels, some part of me still hears the warning bells—the last thread of self-preservation telling me to stop before I lose myself completely.
I take my hand and push his face to the side as I get up to head back toward Donovan and Audrey’s cabin.
“Oh, come on!” Logan whisper-yells. “He’s about to come!” I hear his soft chuckle, then his feet padding after me. He throws his arm around my shoulder, burying his face into my neck with a laugh. My eyes roll, but my smile is hard to hide as I cover my face with my hands.
Leave it to Logan Harper to always find a way to make me smile, no matter how annoying and aggravating he can be.
Or how sexy and fucking charming he is, too .
Our steps are uneven, clumsy. We cling to each other just to stay upright, laughter bubbling between stumbles.
He’s so effortlessly carefree, and I find myself leaning closer, drawn in like I’m trying to absorb whatever it is that makes him feel so light.
Everything about him sets me on edge. Yet somehow, he calms me, too. It’s a constant push and pull. Tension and ease, chaos and quiet. An easy kind of gravity that only makes sense when it’s Logan I’m orbiting.
The thought that has me spinning is just how terrifyingly easy it is to fall for your best friend.
Maybe it wasn’t just one moment. Maybe it was a slow build, a quiet stacking of memories, one on top of the other. We laid the bricks ourselves without realizing it.
Laughter, glances, late-night talks, touches that hovered a second too long.
And then one day, all those moments hardened into something solid. Something undeniable. Now it’s right in front of me—a wall too high to climb over, too obvious to ignore. And with that, the truth hits me.
I’ve already fallen for him. When my eyes linger too long on his profile, he looks down at me with the brightest of smiles, and I have to believe that smile is for no one else but me.