She was so right. Lizbeth Landon really did specialize in decorating as if she were personally at war with good taste. It still happens on occasion. Like every single holiday.
A slow song comes on over the speakers, and people migrate over to a makeshift dance floor under the canopy of bright orange twinkle lights.
“You mind?” Gage looks to Logan while taking younger me by the hand. “Just one dance, I promise.” His dimples wink in and out as he pulls her in.
“Just one.” Logan glares at him a moment before relenting.
We watch as this younger, doe-eyed version of me follows Gage’s hot-to-trot scent all the way down the stairs and into a thicket of swaying bodies at least fifty deep. Logan will never see them, and that’s the entire point.
“I’m not going to lie, Skyla”—Gage breathes the words into my ear as he holds this younger version of me close, his hips moving so hard over mine, I can feel that baseball bat he keeps in his pants— “I’m dying to talk to you. I’m dying to spend time with you. I need you more than ever. This separation is killing me.”
“You have the visions, Gage. Hold on to those. I’ll be speaking with my mother soon, and everything is going to get straightened out.” I watch as I pull back enough to see him. The tangerine glow from above makes him look haunted, demonic, desperately broken.
I shoot my mother a look. We all know how easy communicating with her can be. But nevertheless, I lean into Logan.
“It was moments like that,” I sigh at the drama of it all, “that made us who we are. And oddly, I think I can add Gage into that equation.”
Logan shakes his head. “It’s always the Gage math getting in the way.” He shrugs. “But you’re right. I can practically see our growing families on the horizon from here. Even though the faction war was just around the corner.”
“I believe it’s my turn.” The younger version of Logan crops up, pulling Gage back by the shoulder.
The music switches gears to something way upbeat, and the past version of Logan looks as if he’d rather slit his neck than lose it to the funky groove.
“Oh, come on!” Younger me tries to pull him out onto the dance floor, but he doesn’t budge.
“Just my luck,” he laments. “I’ll catch the next slow dance.”
“Come on, Logan,” Gage teases. “Skyla here wants to see you bust a move.” He whips out his phone. “I’ll record it, and we can play it back for the team.”
“You wish.” Young Logan pulls her in and takes her hand. “You mind if I take a rain check? Maybe a private dance later, say in the butterfly room? The bowling alley needs me. Three more people just called in sick.”
“I’ll go with you,” younger me whispers. I don’t know why I felt the need to whisper since there’s only Gage in the vicinity, and this isn’t exactly a top-secret conversation.
“I get it.” Gage holds up his arms. “I’ll get lost.”
“No, wait—” Before the younger version of me can properly protest, he’s drifting through the crowd.
“You’d better find him.” Young Logan brushes his fingers over the top of her brow with a look of resolute sadness. “I should have closed the damn place tonight. It’s dead anyway.”
“I’ll remind you of that next year.” The past version of me pushes him in by the small of his back, and they sway together to a rhythm all their own.
Logan’s eyes widen before he frees a tiny smile. “I don’t want to think about next year. I’m enjoying this moment, right now.” That destitute sadness comes over him again. “I thought we held something big, Skyla. I thought we’d last forever.”
I can practically feel my stomach pinch at the use of the wordforever. That’s sort of Gage’s self-proclaimed buzzword. I watch as I slip my hands down over the back of his jeans and into his pockets. I was pretty smooth back then.
“We get happily ever after, remember?” The younger version of me bumps her forehead to his and pulls back. But it’s almost as if Logan doesn’t remember a thing, and it scares her to death.
“Yeah.” He looks down and fills his lungs to capacity. “I gotta go.” His lips twitch as if he’s fighting a smile. “Do you think I could steal a quick kiss?”
“You bet. I hear if you kiss someone on Halloween night, it means something spectacular is about to happen.”
“Really?” He ticks his head back a notch, slightly amused.
“No, not really. I totally just made that up, but wouldn’t it be great if it were true?” She gives a soft laugh, raking her fingernails lightly over his back.
“Oh, I think it’s true.” Logan twirls her until they land farther from the party, and the fog acts as a privacy screen just for the two of us. Something in Logan wakes up, and he’s brimming with that sexy grin again. “We’re on our way to something spectacular, Skyla. I can feel it. I just have no damn idea how we’ll get there.”
She puts her finger to his lips. Logan is getting ready to veer off the cliffside again, and she doesn’t want him to.
