As I’m sizing up the rocks around the hot spring, looking for the safest point of entry that will get me out of the cold the fastest, I can feel Logan’s heated gaze on my body. It feels nice, almost safe, since none of his family is around to tease him for staring. When I catch his gaze lingering on my breasts, he looks down and coughs into his hand, acting innocent and distracted. I can’t help but laugh. He’s a much better hockey player than an actor.

I climb over the rocks, trying not to slip, and when I sink into the water next to him, I’m careful to leave more than an arm’s distance between us. Because, you know. Reasons.

“So, I’m sure it’s been a lot of stress to be back here,” I say, sinking my toes into the clay at the base of the spring. “A lot of old emotions to face with your family.”

His gaze narrows, one dark eyebrow arching. “Are you going therapy mode on me?”

“You did say that we could still have a counseling session,” I remind him.

“Right, right.” He stretches out his arms, settling back against the rocks.

I can’t help but notice how his pecs flex, the rounded caps of his shoulders carved out by the shadows of the trees. It takes my full attention to keep my eyes locked on his instead of ogling his physique for this whole session.

“Things are . . . tough,” he grumbles, scratching at the stubble along his jaw. “I don’t even know anymore. Most of the time I feel like I’m just going through the motions with my dad gone.”

“I get that. It’s okay to miss him. It’s okay to be angry. But it’s not okay to give up on your dreams or stop living your life. Your father wouldn’t want that for you.”

“I know,” he says softly.

Our conversation seems a little strange. It’s like I’ve known Logan forever, and my advice is from one friend to another. As someone who cares deeply about him.

“It’s just that being away from the family is hard. But being back here is hard too,” he says.

“None of this is easy. It’s not supposed to be,” I say gently.

He nods, a lump of emotion bobbing in his throat as he forces a hard swallow. “I guess you’re right. I just wish it could be simple.” He’s quiet for a moment, one damp hand working through his messy brown hair.

He looks so hopeless that, as unprofessional as it is, I find myself moving closer to him and bring my arms around him. Logan relaxes against me, releasing a deep sigh.