“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his breath brushing against Logan’s skin, warm and intimate as he spoke directly to his ear. “I didn’t know Itay would be here today. If I’d known... we wouldn’t have come.”
Logan nodded, his heart tightening with questions that lodged in his throat, thoughts he couldn’t bring himself to voice. Was Adrian remembering this morning, when they’d lingered in the haze of dawn? Did he wonder, as Logan did, what it would be like to spend a lazy morning wrapped in each other’s warmth, to let their moments stretch?
“Dean’s the best,” Adrian continued softly. “But he’s… he has a hard time with new people. And I told him I wanted to travel alone, so I think he’s… surprised.”
Logan didn’t miss the way Adrian’s voice dropped to that quiet, vulnerable tone. He felt Adrian’s breath warm against his skin, seeping into him, twisting him up inside. The soft edge to Adrian’s voice, thesubtle heat of his body close beside him—it all felt like a choice, a silent confirmation that Logan wasn’t just a passenger on this journey. Logan felt his insides getting warm and tingling at the thought of Adrian choosing him, of him occupying more space in Adrian’s life, more of his time, his essence.
“So… why me?” Logan blurted out before he could catch himself.
They’d spent countless hours together, side by side on beaches and in crowded markets, in the unspoken camaraderie of the waves. They laughed at the same things, moved with an ease that felt as if they’d known each other for years. But this—this was something else. This was a space where the air hung heavy with unsaid things, where even silence seemed to hint at more.
Adrian didn’t answer. Instead, he just looked at Logan, his eyes soft, glinting like sunlight over the water. There was something shy in his smile, a faint color rising to his cheeks, and Logan felt his heart lurch, as though it were reaching toward something deep and elusive. That look held the answer—an answer so fragile, so close, that he could almost feel it, like the sea’s hush just before the wave breaks.
The rumble of the bus lulled Logan into a state where thoughts softened and exhaustion crept in, blurring the edges of reality. His hand lay inches from Adrian’s, the memory of Itay’s touch still fresh and bitter as salt on his mind. Itay, with his lingering hand on Adrian’s hip, his gaze that knew too much, the weight of a history Logan could only guess at.
In a small, reckless moment, Logan bridged the distance. His fingers slipped into Adrian’s, hesitant yet resolute, like a swimmer diving into deep water, unsure of what might be waiting below the surface. And then it wasdone; their fingers laced together, a simple, miraculous knot. Logan felt Adrian’s hand jolt in surprise, his breath hitching.
For a second, Logan feared Adrian would pull away, but instead, Adrian’s fingers tightened around his, firm and warm, an anchor in the restless current of Logan’s feelings. Logan felt the ground beneath him steady, felt something profound settle in his chest, filling the space where doubt had been. Boldness sparked through him, and he allowed himself to drift closer, leaning his head against Adrian’s shoulder. His eyes closed as he let his face rest in the crook of Adrian’s neck, breathing in the scent of ocean and sunbaked skin.
Here, leaning into Adrian, he was weightless, as if every insecurity, every unknown, had been swept out by the tide. And beneath the pulse of Adrian’s breath, he could hear the sea inside him, a vastness he was no longer afraid of, a feeling as deep and powerful as the ocean’s pull.
He opened his eyes, taking in the sight of their tangled fingers. It felt like a revelation, the kind that’s known in the body long before it reaches the mind. This connection, simple yet anchoring, was a wordless answer to all his silent questions. And Adrian was watching him, his lips softening into a smile that felt like sunrise over still water, warm and open, unfurling something in Logan’s chest that had been knotted tight for too long.
“It’s okay,” Adrian murmured, his voice low, brushing over Logan. His thumb traced a small, reassuring arc over Logan’s knuckles, and Logan felt his own heart answer, settling into an easy rhythm that felt like home.
They shifted together, trying to get comfortable in the cramped seats, laughing softly as they did, the sound filling the small space between them, echoing with something both unspoken and understood.
“You are too damn tall!” Adrian said lovingly, his hand holding Logan’s tight.
“Just saying that I got room back here,” Jack interfered from behind them. “I will kick Leo away in a heartbeat for you, Logan.”
“Thanks, man,” Leo said dryly. “Can’t believe you’re my best friend.”
“So, Logan, what would it be?” Jack pressed.
“Shut up,” Logan called.
Logan smiled at Adrian fondly, feeling as if he were high as his hand was laced with Adrian’s, like a tangled shoreline where land and sea can’t quite let go of each other. The feeling rushed over him, electric and endless, like the thrill of riding a wave he thought might break too soon.
When the bus finally stopped, Logan stepped out, his legs shaky with the sudden release of everything he’d been holding inside. The beach sprawled out before him, waves cresting and breaking against the shore with a power that felt almost alive. The salt air filled his lungs, sharp and cleansing, and he stood there, awestruck, not caring about the crowd around him. It was as if the sea itself had welcomed him, as if he’d come home.
Adrian appeared beside him, handing him his bag and board, a small, ordinary gesture, but one that left Logan speechless. It was the little things that Adrian did, the quiet attentions, that spoke loudest to Logan, and he felt his heart beat just a little faster.
The sea called to them both, and as Logan looked at Adrian, he could see his own yearning mirrored back at him. Here, with the ocean stretching vast before them and the warmth of Adrian’s hand still imprinted on his own, Logan felt like he’d found something he didn’t even know he’d been searching for.
“You brought your camera, right?” Adrian’s voice was easy, playful, and Logan grinned widely in answer, the excitement rising sharp and bright beneath his skin as he pulled his shirt off. The thrill of capturing these moments—the waves, the way sunlight glanced off the water, the way Adrian looked at him sometimes like he was trying to solve a mystery—was all part of the day’s promise.
Before he could say more, they heard Dean call from down the beach. Adrian answered with a casual “Coming!” as he peeled off his shirt, revealing sun-kissed skin, his muscles shifting beneath. Logan didn’t miss how Itay lingered close to them, how his eyes were glued to Adrian’s half-naked body.
Logan tried to keep his expression still, tried to mask the slow, gnawing thing inside him, but jealousy was an unruly beast, and it stirred deep in his chest, restless, hungry.
Itay’s gaze was a weight, heavy with knowing, with something possessive, something Logan couldn’t compete with. He wasn’t even subtle about it—his eyes tracing Adrian like a map he already knew by heart, like a song he had memorized long before Logan had even heard the first note. There was history there, woven into glances, stitched into the space between them, and Logan hated it.
It was the knowing in Itay’s eyes that ruined him. The certainty. The ease.
Itay moved toward them, cutting through the salt-laced air with the kind of confidence that made Logan’s pulse tighten. “Adrian, can we talk for a moment?” His voice was smooth, deliberate—and in English. Logan clenched his jaw. It wasn’t lost on him. Itay could’ve spoken in Hebrew,could’ve made it a moment just between them, but he didn’t. He wanted Logan to understand. He wanted Logan to hear.
Adrian hesitated, a flicker of apology in his gaze as he looked at Logan, something uncertain settling in the space between them. But then he nodded and followed Itay, and Logan had to watch as Itay stepped closer, as their bodies fell into an old rhythm—muscle memory, familiarity. Logan could see it in the way Adrian’s shoulders tensed, in the way his hands fisted momentarily at his sides before relaxing. A battle fought and lost in the space of a breath.
