Page 29 of Straight to You

RYDER

“ W hat? For how long?” I try to keep the panic out of my voice.

Logan just got an email reminder for their company’s mandatory HR meeting tomorrow, and I somehow hate email even more now. It’s not a surprise—they do this every quarter—but with everything going on, we completely forgot it was coming up until the reminder hit his inbox.

We’ve been grateful they’ve let him work from home this whole time without complaint, but what meeting needs to happen in person at this point?

They’re a creative agency for fucks sake, they all know how to do virtual meetings.

There’s no reason Logan needs to sit in a meeting room and leave me here all alone.

This is the first time I’ll be alone since this whole nightmare with Kyle started, and I’m trying not to show how much that’s affecting me.

As promised, Logan hasn’t left my side at all, and the thought of being separated from him makes my stomach churn, especially after the last email.

It left me feeling so powerless, exposed, and utterly violated.

That was one of the most intimate moments of my life, and the fact that Kyle saw it makes my skin crawl.

That video was proof that no matter how safe we thought we were by locking ourselves in the apartment, he’s still steps ahead, and he’s not giving up. And his idea that I need saving from Logan, of all people, is laughable. All I need is for him to excuse himself from our lives forever.

But if there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that he’s never going to come between Logan and me.

Ever. All he’s managed to do is push us closer, and I don’t think he even realizes it.

After everything that’s happened lately, I’m positive Logan is my future.

There’s no world where we don’t end up together.

“Usually, they’re about two or so hours, so I’ll probably be gone three-ish hours,” Logan says, breaking through my thoughts. “I won’t stick around any longer than I need to. I’ll do what I need to do and come back home to you as fast as I can, I promise.”

Being apart from Logan was something I knew I’d have to face eventually, but now that it’s happening, I’m not ready for it. It’s probably irrational and unhealthy to need him this much, but the moment he said he had to leave, I felt panic start to set in. I’m not ready to be without him.

“I don’t like leaving you here alone,” he adds, like he can sense what’s going through my head.

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 before this 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’re in love 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?”