Page 136 of The Lumberjack and the City Slicker

Maybe I belong in a place where people wear flannel and the weather is insane.

Where neighbors know your name and greet you in the morning.

Where grizzly bears wander people’s yards and log cabins are an actual thing.

Where I actually meet a man who’s worthwhile.

But that’s crazy.

People don’t just uproot their lives because they start dating someone.

If that’s even what this is.

Shit.

I’m spiraling.

This is what I do.

I overthink.

I over analyze.

I build catastrophic scenarios in my head and then react to them like they’re real.

When I want something—when I decide I want it—I give it everything.

But this?

This feels different.

It’s more than want.

And even though it feels like Greyson and I might be something real—I don’t actually know how he sees us.

I don’t know what choosing means to him long-term.

For all I know, he’s just riding the wave.

Enjoying the sex. The novelty. The distraction.

I mean, the sex is amazing.

Mind-melting. Body-breaking. Heart-shifting.

But what if that’s all it is to him?

What if I assume he wants me and I do something reckless—like rent a place here, sign a lease, buy into this small-town life—and then he’s done in a week?

I’m not sure I could survive that kind of humiliation. Or the heartbreak—because I know this time it would be very real.

Not like Geoffrey.

And not like any of the boys pretending to be men I used to date.

“What’s going on in that brain of yours, Trouble?”

His voice pulls me back.