Tucked against the stone pillar in front of the hotel, I watched the pedestrians hustle down Park Avenue.

Jerking my attention to Logan when he picked up my rollaway, I said, “You don’t have to do this. I can catch a cab.”

He didn’t say anything, just turned and strode toward the Mustang idling at the curb. We’d barely spoken since last night’s show. After everything that went down, I was surprised he’d slept in my bed. And even more shocked when he woke me at dawn, pressing kisses to my shoulder and nudging my legs open.

But then, it came to me. This was our “until.” And Logan was trying to tell me without words that we’d be okay. Friends. No hard feelings.

I knew it was silly to mourn the loss of something that never was, but I did. So when he left the suite an hour later, I decided to move up the date on my trip to Austin. Give myself a little time to adjust. Three days, and then I’d rejoin the tour upstate.

Wiping my shaky hands on the front of my jeans, I turned to Daryl with a forced smile. He pushed off the wall where he’d been trying not to watch the awkward exchange between Logan and me.

“Sorry about the last-minute changes,” I said. “You can stay here or head up to Bethel. It’s up to you.”

Daryl thought about it for a moment, rubbing his chin. “You sure you don’t need me to go with you?”

Surprised and more than a little touched by the offer, I shook my head. “No. I’ll be fine in Austin. But thank you for asking.”

A rare smile curved his lips. “Call me if you need anything.” He patted my shoulder, a clumsy gesture that led me to believe he didn’t offer this treatment to everyone.

Before I could think better of it, I levered up on my toes and pecked his cheek. “Thank you again.”

He grunted something that sounded like goodbye before shadowing me to the curb.

Sliding into the passenger seat, I blinked against the tears stinging the back of my eyes as I fumbled with the belt.

Everything about this felt like the end.

“Ready?” Logan asked once I was strapped in.

I willed him to look at me, but he didn’t.

“Yep. All set.”

Moments later, as we crossed the Queensboro Bridge, Logan laid a little bag with a fancy label on my lap.

Le Pain Quotidien, Columbus Circle

Peeking inside, the smell of chocolate wafted to my nose. “Little cookies.” I smiled over at him. “You bought me little cookies.”

“I thought you were well traveled, princess. Those are macarons.”

“French little cookies, then.” As I broke a tiny piece off of one of the treats, it dawned on me. “Is this where you went this morning?”

“While you were planning your escape?” He spared me a glance. “Yeah.”

Fingering the serrated edge on the bag, I chewed my lip. After a moment, Logan reached over and freed the abused flesh with his thumb. “Don’t do that. I like your mouth the way it is.”

Laying his hand on my knee, palm up, he wiggled his fingers until I got the hint and linked our digits.

“I wouldn’t have left without telling you,” I said, tipping forward to get his attention when he didn’t acknowledge me. “You know that, right?”

Inhaling slowly, he shook his head. “I don’t even know why you’re leaving. So, no, I can’t give you that.”

“I wanted to make things easier.” It sounded stupid now, but he deserved the truth, so I pushed through. “I thought, after last night, that you wanted to move on.”

Traffic ground to a halt, and with nothing to distract him, Logan finally shifted his attention my way. “Do you always think the worst?” As if the answer were written on my face, he smiled. Not a bitter smile, or a happy smile. Reflective. Like he could see straight into my head. “Yeah, I guess you do.”

It was more of an indictment than an observation, and I thought about protesting, but I really couldn’t. Because it was true.

I blew out a breath. “Do you ever think about balance?”

He quirked a brow at my abrupt change in topic. “Balance?”

“I don’t mean balance like you’re balancing something. What I’m getting at is … you know how people have bad things happen to them? A fucked-up childhood, and then they become, I don’t know, a rock star?”

Trying to make this personal wasn’t a good idea, because Logan’s jaw hardened to granite.

“Okay … what about …” I snapped my fingers. “JK Rowling. She’s a good example.” He went stone still, so I added, “Harry Potter? You’ve read Harry Potter, right?”

His nostrils flared, and he pulled his hand free. “Is there a point coming anytime soon? Or are you just trying to redirect the conversation so you don’t have to tell me what’s really going on?”

There was something different about his tone. An edge I’d never heard, not even when we used to spar.

Sinking back into my seat, I swallowed hard. “I was trying.” My gaze dropped to my lap, to the little bag of cookies. “Never mind. I guess I’m not explaining it right.”

Moments passed with only the sound of the traffic on the interstate and the hum of the engine.

“I didn’t read Harry Potter,” Logan finally said in a tone that sounded like he was confessing to a crime. “I’m not much …” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t read.”

I laughed. “A lot of people don’t read.”

He nodded, pressing his lips into a thin line. “So are you going to finish your story?” I shifted my gaze to the side window and a second later I felt his hand on my leg again. “Tell me, Victoria. I want to know.”

Resting my head against the glass, I squinted into the sun. “I’ve read your bio, Lo. I know you don’t like to talk about it, but your childhood was bad, right?” His reflection nodded. “And then it took five years for Caged to make it out of the dive bar scene. And JK Rowling … she was on welfare. And she got rejected I don’t know how many times before someone took a chance on her book.”

A lump formed in my throat. Only Logan’s hand on my knee, his thumb tracing lazy circles, calmed me enough to continue.

“See, I had a perfect childhood. My parents … they’re amazing. I never tried out for anything I didn’t get. I won my first talent show when I was eight.” I shook my head. “I don’t even remember because it was only a blip. One of many. And then my first band, the Austin Dolls, we got discovered in a fucking mall.”

Chancing a peek to my left, I found Logan smiling. “You’re the full package, princess. What’s the problem?”

“The problem is, there’s always a price. But I didn’t know that. Things came so easy. The perfect career. The perfect marriage. Money. Fame. And now I’m just trying to find my balance.”

I cursed the tear racing down my cheek, but didn’t have the will to wick it away. So Logan did it for me.

“I still don’t know what you mean by balance,” he said gently.

“It’s that place in the middle where all the good things that happened are equal to all the bad things that came after. And I can start at zero again.” I swallowed hard. “Maybe when I find that place, I won’t expect the worst. And about last night. That woman—Harper?” He nodded. “She was the star of Dylan’s sex tape. I should’ve just told you. But he doesn’t even know I know.”

Logan’s eyes darted to mine. “What?”

“It’s a long story. And we don’t have time right now for me to explain. Maybe after I get back …” After I got back everything would be different. There would be no more talking. Not like this.

Logan didn’t say anything, just took my hand and pressed a kiss to my palm.

We rode in silence for a half hour, the whirr of the jet engines overhead increasing in volume the closer we got to the airport. When the GPS signaled our exit one mile ahead, Logan slid into the right lane. But something didn’t look right.

“This isn’t the terminal,” I said as we made the turn into long-term parking.

Logan never squirmed. Not in all the time I’d known him. So the slight shift in his posture was noticeable. “I’ve got a couple things to take care of at home, so I thought I’d tag along. Unless you got a problem with that.”

Another choice. But this one had consequences. Because Austin was home. Roots. Memories. Whatever vague notion I had of us didn’t exist there. My lips parted, a refusal dancing on the tip of my tongue. But then I looked down at the bag of cookies in my lap. And I smiled. “No problem at all.”