“You need to know that Hanlon isn’t a fling, Logan, and he’s certainly not myboy-toy. I’m sorry if I hurt you, but it isn’t like I fell in love with him to spite you. What’s happened between Han and me is complicated, but it runs deep. I apologize for being a little dense. I had no idea you felt that way about me. I just always thought you enjoyed fucking with me. But I need you back as my pilot because Deacon is good, but he’s not as good as you, and with a series of storms moving in this week, I need to be able to trust my pilot because I won’t send anyone else out in that weather.”
“So, you’re okay asking me to riskmylife, but not anyone else?”
Shit. That’s not what I meant.
“No, I’m asking you to potentially save mine.”
Logan sighs heavily before caging me in against the wall with his arms.
“Being in this position is hell, Stone. It physically fuckinghurts,” he says with the most vulnerability I’ve ever seen from him. “Of course, I want to keep you safe. The fact that you trust me with your life should tell you something. But instead, you’re asking me to keep you safe just so I can return you tohim.” Logan is breathing hard, his panted breaths coasting across my lips.
“Hey, there you ar—what the hell is going on?” Hanlon asks from the doorway.
Logan drops his arms and pushes away from me, pain painting his features.
“Nothing,” he says to Hanlon.
“Logan,” I start, unsure if I’m going to apologize or beg him to fly for me one more time.
But he answers before I can find the words, his voice low so Hanlon can’t hear.
“I’m transferring at the end of the season.” He shoulderchecks Hanlon on his way out the door and says, “He’s all yours.”
Guess I’m still flying with Deacon.
“What was that all about?” Hanlon asks, moving toward me in a rush.
“Well, Logan confessed he’s in love with me, now refuses to fly with me, and apparently, he’s transferring at the end of the season.”
Not understanding the difference because he’s never flown in a storm—nor would I ever let him—Hanlon shrugs.
“Okay, but none of that’s really shocking, is it? Plus, Deacon does really well.”
Yeah, on sunny days with clear skies and no crosswinds,I think to myself, but I’ll be damned if I tell Hanlon that.
“You’re right,” I say, giving him a tight smile. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” I push off the wall with Hanlon matching my stride. Seeing him in his patrol jacket honestly hasn’t gotten any less mesmerizing. Watching him really lean into his role here has been incredible. Not to mention, he’s added so much to our team. Evenmyboss has noticed the quality of Hanlon’s contributions. It didn’t take long before I realized I was singing Hanlon’s praises a little too excitedly, hoping they’d offer him a job, and I had to dial it back or risk giving myself away.
“I just need to confirm a couple of test results and some forecast info with Jeremy, and then I’ll be ready to head home,” Hanlon says. “I wonder if Chase has eaten everything in sight yet,” he adds.
Chase got in two days ago and is only staying for two more. Having him here has been nicer than I thought it would be. I tried to give Han the day off yesterday so they could ski, but Hanlon refused. ‘If you’re at work, so am I,’ he’d said.
Between his work ethic and his stubborn streak, he’ll be an asset wherever hegoes, and I’m so fucking proud of him.
As a compromise, I clocked out at eight-thirty and had Chase meet us at the resort for first tracks at nine. I told my team I was on call if they needed me, but no calls ever came. The three of us skied until four, stopping every hour for Hanlon to get warm. We shared a couple of beers, and it was the most fun afternoon Han and I have had in a while. I could tell Hanlon has missed his best friend, and I’m hopeful that having him here helps alleviate the stress I know he still feels from our parents’ silence.
“Hey, text him and ask him to put on a pot of chili, will you?” I ask. “There’s ground beef in the fridge, and there should be plenty of cans of beans he can dump in there.”
“No problem. I’ll meet you in your office in twenty minutes,” Hanlon says, fingers typing away on his phone as he heads toward the table where Jeremy’s still sitting.
As soon as I step outside the lodge to head back to the office to wait for Hanlon, the wind damn near blows me over. The storm is picking up, and I can’t fucking wait to get home.
My cell phone rings as soon as I step inside my office, and my boss’s voice rings out over the line.
“Stone, Rick here.” He always answers the same way, as though I don’t have caller ID and haven’t had his contact saved in my phone for four years.
“Hey, Rick. What can I do for you?”
“I just got off the phone with the new resort owner. Nice guy. Certainly more sensible than the man before him. Seems to genuinely care about the people who make this resort run smoothly and isn’t just concerned with chasing a dollar.”
