Willow
Sitting up in bed, I scrubbed the sleep from my eyes, gazing across the room at Logan’s empty bed, the cyclone in my belly picking up speed and doubling in size.
He’d staggered in here in the middle of the night, reeking of booze and looking several shades of miserable, running out before I’d had a chance to explain myself. I knew what it looked like—Lucas and I snuggled in bed together. Yet, we’d only spent the evening talking—catching each other up on our last several months apart… minus one very important detail on my part.
Careful not to disturb Lucas, I climbed quietly out of bed and tiptoed across the room. Pulling one of Logan’s flannels from his top bunk, I slipped into it, wrapping it tightly around me and burying my nose in the collar. As his scent engulfed me, and I continued staring at his neatly made bed, wave after wave of crippling guilt and worry continued to wash over me.
“‘Morning,” Lucas whispered against my ear. Shrieking, I spun around, shrieking again as he lifted me straight off my feet and planted a kiss on my lips. I froze against his mouth, quickly turning away as his tongue touched mine.
The cabin door swung open, crashing into the wall. Logan stood on the threshold, his clothes covered in mud, dark circles ringing his eyes. Taking in the sight of Lucas and me clutching one another, his nostrils flared.
“Bro,” Lucas said, setting me down. “Where were you last night?”
Logan, his stormy gaze meeting mine for only one brief, horrible second, headed to his dresser. Stripping out of his mud-streaked shirt, he tossed it away. “I had stuff to do.”
Lucas chuckled. “You hadstuffto do? That’s code for a girl, right?”
Pulling on a clean shirt, Logan muttered, “There’s no girl.”
“Is it the girl with short brown hair?” Lucas teased.
“There’s no fucking girl,” Logan growled, shoving past Lucas. The bathroom door slammed shut behind him.
Lucas looked at me, grinning. “There’s definitely a girl, right? Why else would he be out all night?”
I only stared and shrugged, my stomach still swirling with dread. I couldn’t even dream up a lie like that. Just thinking about Logan with someone else, my entire body vehemently rejected the very notion.
“Come on, bro.” Lucas knocked lightly on the bathroom door. “Tell me who it is. It’s the blonde, right? It’s gotta be the blonde.”
The door flew open; Logan, his jaw locked and ticcing, glared at Lucas. “I said, there’s no fucking girl. So would you please shut the fuck up about it?”
The smile slipped from Lucas’s face. “It was just ajoke,” he spat, his tone rising with anger. Straightening, he stepped closer to Logan, bringing them nose to nose, his light, chiseled features shrouded in dark discontent, his body simmering with rage. “So why the fuck are you getting so bent out of shape?”
Logan looked just as startled as I felt. Lucas didn’t curse, and he definitely didn’t stand up to his big brother. For several seconds, I could only stare dumbly at the two men until Logan’s stunned expression shifted into a sneer.
“All grown up now, huh?” Logan bit out.
Lucas responded with a lift of his chin and a squaring of his shoulders.
“Hey,” I said, shoving between them, grabbing hold of Lucas’s hand. “Remember how I wanted to introduce you to Britta today? We should get going before I have to be at work.”
As I pulled Lucas from the cabin, he continued to glare over his shoulder. “Did you see him?” he demanded. “I thought he was going to fucking hit me.”
No, I thought you were going to hit him, I wanted to say. Instead, I muttered, “He was a mess after you… disappeared. He was really angry at me. At the world. I think he’s still angry at… everything.” It wasn’t exactly a lie; although it could hardly be considered the truth, either. Not the whole truth, anyway.
Lucas remained tense, his expression tight. Looking up at him, I couldn’t help but feel that the differences in my childhood friend went far deeper than a haircut and a shave and a couple of curse words. Who he’d been when he’d dropped out of sight many months ago wasn’t the same person that reemerged.
We had all changed, though, hadn’t we? In the blink of an eye our trio had become a duo, and in Lucas’s case, he’d been forced to forge an entirely new way of living. It only made sense that he would change alongside his circumstances, and I certainly had no right to hold those changes against him—especially not after I’d developed such intense feelings for Logan in his absence.
But, I wondered dismally,where did all these changes leave us?
“Lucas,” Britta drawled. “So it’s true? The dead boyfriend returns—and here I thought Doc was just yankin’ my chain.”
Britta, who lay in her hospital bed flipping through an old magazine, looked Lucas over with a grin. Each day she looked better than the last; in terms of healing, she still had a long road ahead of her, but her color had returned, as had the mischievous glint in her eye.
“Not quite so dead after all,” Lucas replied dryly. “Britta, right? Willow told me all about you.”
Britta looked at me, her brows peaked. “Did she now? A good an’ glowin’ review, I hope?”
