I watch Logan stiffen, his body language shifting imperceptibly. He stands, a solid wall of muscle and resolve that makes it hard to remember he's human beneath that armor. A man who just moments ago kissed me with a fire that still burns my lips.
It's almost surreal, the way he can switch from the warmth of that intimate moment to the cold, distant soldier standing before me.
"We're done," he replies, his voice low and gravelly, as though the words taste bitter.
"The hell we are." I'm on my feet before he even gets a chance to walk away. I can’t let him escape into the silence that cloaks him like a shroud. Not after what he has done to me.
"I saw you flinch when I said it," I press, my heart racing. The pulse of truth hangs heavy between us, and I can’t ignore theflicker of acknowledgment in his storm-gray eyes. "So what is it, Logan?"
Silence drapes over us, thick and suffocating.
His gaze avoids mine, choosing instead to study the floor as if the wood could offer him some sanctuary from the truths spilling from my lips.
"I think you've got more secrets than I do," I continue, feeling the fire in my chest burn brighter. "I think this whole place is built on the fallout."
I see it in the way he moves, a slow turn that radiates danger.
There's a raw intensity in his presence that sends a thrill of both fear and exhilaration spiraling through me.
It’s impossible to ignore that I’ve got his attention, even if it comes wrapped in anger and tension.
"You don't get to talk about this place like you understand it," he counters, his voice clipped and controlled, yet there’s an edge that tells me he’s barely holding back.
"You think dragging me out of the snow earns you silence?" I challenge him, stepping closer, pushing against the wall he’s built around himself.
“No. I think protecting the people who still believe in something matters more than chasing ghosts.” His words ring with conviction, shrouded in layers of meaning that taunt me.
His chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm, and I can see the tension in those lean muscles, the coiled energy ready to spring.
The distance between us feels charged, my heart racing against the weight of our scrutiny. I want to reach out, to bridge thegap, because underneath all that bravado, I can sense his fear—fear of the past, fear of the truth, of what lays buried beneath his unwavering surface.
My heart hardens in defiance. “Is that why you lied to them about me? 'Personal project'? I’m not the only one hiding."
His silence is deafening, a confession without words. I’m already too close, too drawn in by the gravity of his presence.
Then, just like that, he breaks from my gaze.
“I’m taking a walk,” he says abruptly, decisively, turning away as if that simple statement can sever whatever connection we've just forged.
“Logan—” I start, but he’s already gone, leaving only the echo of his retreat.
I stand alone for a moment, heart pounding in the stillness.
The warmth of his body lingers in the air, and I’m left with a storm of questions and frustrations swirling inside me.
What is it about him that draws me in, that makes me question everything I thought I knew?
Finally, I take a breath, steadying myself.
I can’t be here, locked in this moment of uncertainty. I head back to the others, where the guys are still drinking, laughter spilling out like a vibrant wave.
Caleb spots me first, his dimples flashing as he raises a glass.
“Hey! Look who decided to melt into the warmth!” he shouts, the mock indignation ringing in his tone.
As I approach, I see Asa hunched over his laptop in the corner, headphones on, but I catch a hint of a smile behind his glasses as he looks up. “Did you survive your wilderness excursion with Grizzly Logan?”
“Don’t let him fool you,” Caleb adds with a teasing wink. “He’s all bark and no bite. Just don’t ask him about his childhood stuffed animal.”
