"Have you spoken to Megan since you've been back?" Micky asked over the music.

I leaned forward on the table so she could hear me properly. "Not yet, have you?"

She nodded. "She's doing well, Logan. That new facility she was moved to helped her lots." She smiled proudly. "She's clean, and she's started to sort her life out." Then her features flattened. "It would mean a lot to her if you called, or something. Just let her know that you're safe, and that you don't blame her for what happened. She's carrying around a lot of that guilt—"

"What?" I interrupted.

"Yeah," she said timidly. "She thinks it's her fault, what happened that night, and you leaving. She even called Amanda to apologize."

I looked over to Amanda who was laughing at Ethan missing the hole from only inches away. "I'll call her," I promised. "I don't want her thinking any of that shit. I just wanted the time to make things right, you know?" I faced her again. She was nodding, understanding what I meant.

I just wanted Amanda.

Amanda

Logan and I left the party right after Cameron and Lucy did. They had to be up early to head home. Tomorrow was the anniversary of Lucy's mom's death, and, like every year, they went to visit her with the rest of her family.

"You promise you can't see anything?" he asked.

I gripped his arm tighter and took the final step onto the roof. "Do you promise this isn't going to be like the last time you blindfolded me?"

"Holy shit, babe, my dick just twitched in my pants."

"Really?"

"Yup."

"Let me touch it."

The warmth of his breath from his chuckle hit my cheek. "Okay," he announced. "You ready?"

"Yes." I blinked a few times, adjusting my eyes to the small amount of night light that filtered through once the blindfold was off. We were on the rooftop of the apartment, like I’d suspected, but there was nothing different about it. "Um, I don't—"

His laugh cut me off. "Just wait right here, okay?" He moved swiftly to an outlet next to the door. "Ready?" he shouted.

I nodded.

Then the entire place lit up from above. My eyes darted up to the hundreds of fairy lights that were strung up above us. In the center was a bunch of different sized and colored paper lanterns. But that's not what made me gasp; it was the dozens of tiny glass vials weaved through them.

"See?" He stood next to me, and followed my gaze. "Now we just wait for it to rain, and we can start collecting more moments."

I slowly turned to him. His eyes were still focused above us. But he wasn't seeing what I was seeing. What I saw my future, my life, my world. "Logan, this is amazing."

His smile was instant. That all-out, carefree, deep-dimple-displaying smile I loved so much. He took my hand. "Come on." He led me to a rug set out underneath the center of the lights. I followed. Once we were seated, he said, "Hi." He chewed the corner of his lip and played with a loose thread on the rug.

"Hi," I replied.

We sat cross-legged, facing each other. Our grins matched each other’s. "Happy birthday."

"Thank you."

"I got you something."

"No. You've already done so much. You've spent way too much money."

He rolled his eyes. "This didn't cost me anything."

"You sure?"

"Yes, babe," he drawled. "I'm sure."

I perked up. "Okay, then. Gimme!" I threw my hand out, palm up.

He sighed. "It's not—" He took a deep breath and let it out with his words. "It's not what you think it is, and I don't want you to get excited, or mad, or disappointed because you will, and it's—"

"Logan. Stop!"

"Okay . . ."

I moved my hand suggestively closer to him.

And then I waited.

And waited.

It felt like forever.

But the instant the metal hit my palm and the lights from above shined reflectively on the diamond—I flipped my hand and dropped it.

I glared at him, my eyes falling out of my head. His expression matched mine.

I glanced down at the ring, now sitting on the rug.

Thump. Thump.

I looked away.

"I told you it's not what you think it is."

"No," is all I could say. My mind was racing. My palms were sweating.

"Amanda." He tried to get my attention.

I started to stand up but his heavy hands on my legs stopped me from moving any further.

"What is wrong with you?" He'd started chuckling. I didn't know what was so funny.

"You're giving me an engagement ring, Logan. That's not funny."

He quit laughing. His tone was serious when he said, "It is an engagement ring, but it's not for you. I mean it's not your engagement ring."

My face must've shown how confused he just made me because he dropped his head and let out the sigh of all sighs. When he finally lifted it, his eyes were focused, determined. Picking up the ring between us, he asked me to come closer. I did. "Closer," he said again. I moved. "Closer." I was sitting across his lap by the time he was satisfied. "I'm not asking you to marry me," he started. My shoulders relaxed. I wasn't ready for that yet. "I'm not saying that I won't. It's just not our time—yet." I smiled, so glad we were on the same page. He continued, "Remember how I told you about Dad's Tina?"