Hope you had a great Thanksgiving! Let’s get lunch this weekend? I haven’t seen you in a couple weeks and I have some news!
I felt a small groan escape from my mouth, realizing that I hadn’t talked to Mackenzie since last weekend. Which meant that she had no idea how much my entire world had shifted in the last few days between leaving Noah, to now living with Adam, and having just spent an incredible night with Logan.
I’d never outright told Mackenzie about my feelings for Logan growing up, but I wondered if she ever guessed. She’d never pushed the subject, even after that disastrous trip to Mexico. Instead, she found ways to wield a more silent level of support, like finding elaborate ways to pull me out of the depths of my own mind.
She and her long-term boyfriend, Eric, had been together for almost a decade—and I was absolutely thrilled for them. Besides my parents, Mackenzie and Eric were a real-life example of love, commitment, and the consistent hard work that was necessary for a successful relationship.
They’d started dating in high school, and even through the chaos of college and the turbulent days that came in their early twenties, they’d somehow managed to survive relatively unscathed and stronger than ever.
My thumbs moved swiftly across the phone’s screen as I typed out a reply back to her.
Grateful for you, Mack ?? I’m definitely up for lunch. Sunday?
I waited for her reply, which came in not even thirty seconds later.
Mackenzie
Sounds perfect. See you then! ??
I set my phone back down on the nightstand and forced myself up from the bed to start gathering my clothes. I spent the next fifteen minutes folding everything I’d brought and tucking it all neatly away, pausing for a moment with the pajama set I’d worn last night. I brought the shirt to my face and inhaled, smelling Logan’s scent within the fabric. I caught myself smiling, despite the small bouts of worry that I was still feeling.
It was all so surreal. Last night hadactuallyhappened.
Just as I zipped my bag closed, I heard voices coming from downstairs. Rachel’s pancakes were probably ready, and I was quite literally starving after all of last night’s . . .exertions.
I made my way down the stairs, following the notes of cinnamon and vanilla that hung in the air, and rounded back into the kitchen. Rachel was at the sink, cleaning off the pan she’d just been using while a platter full of thick pancakes sat in the center of the island.
My mother was already transferring a stack of them to her plate while my father stood just behind her waiting for his turn. They were both still in their pajamas, hair rumpled, and the sight of them together in such a state was outrageously heartwarming. “Good morning,” my mother chirped when she saw me.
“Good morning! Wow, those look delicious,” I said, nodding my head at the food.
“I’ll say,” my father answered, “and they smell incredible, too. Rach, this is truly amazing.”
Rachel turned from the sink to look back at him, not even trying to mask the pride in her voice when she said, “Thank you.”
I picked up a plate from the stack on the counter and waited until my father finished getting his portion. When I was stabbing into the pancake at the top of the stack, I heard the front door open and shut as footsteps shuffled in. A moment later, Adam and Logan were walking into the kitchen, and my heart skipped a full beat or two at the sight of Logan.
He was bundled in his heavy jacket—the same one he’d let me wear yesterday at the store—and a black beanie. His face was flushed from shoveling snow, and there was a light layer of sweat on his forehead. His warm eyes found me, and I was instantly transported into the very recent memory of his body against mine.
“Good morning,” I managed to say.
Logan smiled. “Good morning.”
I couldn’t help the huge smile that formed on my face. I had to look back down at the food in front of me to distract myself from the electric buzz that was filling my head.
“This smells amazing, babe!” Adam moved further into the kitchen to wrap his arms around Rachel, who squealed when a few clumps of snow from his coat fell on her shoulder. I headed into the dining room where my parents were already seated, noticing that someone had already set out butter and syrup on the table.
It wasn’t long before Adam and Rachel bounded into the room with their plates in hand. Trailing not far behind, Logan soon followed and sat down right next to me. This time, I reveled in the close proximity to him at the table, my body oscillating in excitement. I felt his knee swing over to touch mine under the table, as if in silent acknowledgement that he felt it, too.
All through breakfast, I felt Logan look at me at least a dozen times. I would then feel compelled to glance over at him as often as I could without being too obvious. How many timeswastoo obvious? Was I acting normal? I had to admit, the secret that we were sharing, sitting here in front of my family, was downright thrilling.
With each stolen glance, memories from last night infiltrated my mind and it became difficult to focus on the conversations at the table. So difficult, in fact, that I’d completely missed as the topic of discussion turned in my direction.
“Amelia, did you hear me?” My father’s curious voice suddenly came into focus.
Oh shit.I quickly looked to the head of the table on my left and saw creases in my father’s forehead as he watched me, waiting for me to answer. “Sorry, Dad . . . what did you say?”
“When do you have to go back to work?”
