Adrian arched a brow, amusement tugging at the corners of his lips. “Am I? Because I’ve known you for less than a week, and I’ve already been this close—” he held up his thumb and forefinger, leaving only a sliver of space between them “—to death twice now.”
Logan only grinned wider, tilting his head like he was considering it. “Then maybe you should stop following me.”
That was not going to happen, and Adrian knew it. He would follow that man everywhere he went and be thankful for the opportunity to be there by his side.
But Adrian didn’t move, didn’t step back. Instead, he gazed at Logan with something softer, something weightless and unguarded, like he was caught in the quiet pull of something neither of them fully understood.
Logan was still riding the high of the fall, his heart thundering, his breath light and easy, until suddenly, it wasn’t.
His pulse stuttered, because that look—the way Adrian was watching him, eyes dark and blissful, his lips slightly parted, his skin still slick with the lake’s shimmer—did something strange to Logan’s chest. Made it feel tight, stretched thin, alive in a way that had nothing to do with adrenaline.
Before he could think, before he could stop himself, his hand lifted—hesitant, shaking just slightly—as he reached forward.
A single strand of hair clung to Adrian’s cheek, damp and curling from the water. Logan swept it away with the barest brush of his fingers, his skin grazing Adrian’s with a touch so light it was almost unreal.
Adrian didn’t move. Didn’t speak.
And Logan, God help him, couldn’t look away.
The air between them thickened, heavy with something unspoken, something weightier than the fall, than the water around them.
Logan swallowed, but it did nothing to steady the wild, uncharted thing clawing at his ribs.
What the hell was this?
His throat felt tight, a deep ache as he swallowed, feeling the steady pound of his heart echo in his chest. Every nerve seemed to wake under Adrian’s gaze, his presence filling the air between them, charged like thesun-slicked surface of the ocean before a storm. The slight brush of his fingers against Adrian’s cheek felt electric, sending a low hum through him, a tether he couldn’t pull away from.
Logan’s hand lingered on Adrian’s face, fingers skimming slowly over his skin, his palm warm against Adrian’s cheek. But then he heard himself whisper, almost as though the words surfaced from a depth he hadn’t known was there. “Who was he?”
Adrian’s breath hitched, his hand lifting to cover Logan’s gently, like the delicate brushing of sea foam on sand. “Who?” His voice was so soft, filling the air between them, gentle, and yet steady as a returning tide. His fingers traced the back of Logan’s hand, soothing, tender.
“The guy you talked to yesterday,” Logan managed, his voice barely holding. His hand trembled lightly, and he didn’t know why he asked, why he couldn’t shake the thought of Adrian speaking with that man. The ease of their laughter, the way he touched Adrian, and how he looked at him. Logan’s chest tightened as he remembered the way they’d seemed, the way Adrian’s face had softened in that man’s presence. He didn’t know why it mattered so much. But it did… some ancient ache, quiet but immovable, lodged beneath his ribs, clinging to him, refusing to release its hold.
But Logan reminded himself that while Adrian talked with that other guy, Adrian’s eyes scanned the crowd for him, and when Adrian could not find him, he left everything behind—that man included—to search for Logan. How Adrian had run back to him, like the wave chasing the shore, Adrian bolted back to him and spent the night with him, and cooked for him, and now they were here together.
Adrian found himself confused by this question; after all, he had already told Logan that this guy was another surfer he had met before. “I told you, I met him around here before—”
Logan shook his head softly. “No,” he insisted, one word that carried so much more weight, begging Adrian to understand. “Who is he… toyou?” Logan was trembling now, maybe it was anger at that guy, maybe it was the expectation for the answer, or just the chill waters.
Adrian stilled, and suddenly everything fell into place. The way Logan had disappeared last night, the look in his eyes now, the tension thrumming between them like the pull of the tide—
Logan was jealous.
Adrian felt a spark of something warm and fragile ignite in his chest, like a flame he’d only dared to imagine.
“He is no one to me, just barely a friend.” He reassured Logan, grabbing his hand tightly now, his head just scarcely pressing back against Logan’s soft palm. Adrian’s voice barely above a breath, the words catching on the air, the hum of the live nature around them buzzing.
Adrian longed to articulate his thoughts, his heart brimming with sentiments yearning for expression. He wished to convey the depth of his feelings while tenderly preserving the delicate bond they were nurturing. Logan was clearly bothered by this guy. The last thing Adrian wanted was to sow seeds of doubt in Logan’s mind or jeopardize the beautiful connection they were forging for some guy he didn’t even care about.
“When we met, he tried… but he isn’t what I want.” His gaze held Logan’s, burning steady as he added, “He tried last night too. But I don’t want him. I want…”
He didn’t finish the sentence, but Logan felt it, felt the unspoken words hum between them like an unbreakable thread. His hand, still resting against Adrian’s cheek, drifted down along his jaw, feeling the faint scrape of stubble, feeling Adrian tremble beneath his touch. Logan’s fingers moved almost unconsciously, brushing along Adrian’s neck, and he felt the quiet shudder that coursed through Adrian’s body, the way his eyes closed for a single, quivering moment.
Adrian’s hand never left Logan’s, clenching his wrist, not with force but with a quiet urgency, as though release would unmake something fragile and invisible. Around them, the world seemed to contract, folding in upon itself until there was nothing left but the hush between their breaths. The silence was taut, shimmering, full of words that trembled yet refused to be born. They lingered there, tethered by a touch as delicate as salt spray on skin, yet freighted with the gravity of all that remained unsaid.
Logan’s voice finally broke through, hushed and thick. “Let’s… let’s get out. The water’s freezing.”
Adrian nodded, unable to trust his own voice, his mind hazy as he let Logan’s hand drop. They moved toward the shore in silence, each step carrying the ache of something beautiful and unknown, something that ebbed and flowed between them like the endless, pulling tide.
