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“What? Oh, no, of course not. Everything is fine. I was actually trying to teach him some sign language so he can communicate better.”

Logan’s mouth turns down slightly. “Listen, I don’t care what my people do. At all. You can fuck who you want or pair up or make the rounds or whatever. I don’t care. But sometimes relationships end in conflict, and choices have to be made.”

I’m still confused, but my stomach is also sinking—like it knows what’s coming even before my mind does. “Choices?”

“Yes. Sometimes things end in a way where both can’t stay. And Deck has been one of my people for twelve years. He started working for me at seventeen.” Logan meets my eyes with a clear significance. “Sometimes choices have to be made, and Deck isn’t going anywhere.”

My stomach drops all the way down. I swallow hard over tension in my throat. Because I know exactly what Logan is telling me.

I’ve hooked up with his group, and it’s been working out great. I’m safer than I ever could have been otherwise.I like these people. I want to stay. I’m actually enjoying being part of things. Contributing.

But if something happens between Deck and me that leads to an angsty breakup, I’m out.

I’mout.

I’ll be left all alone.

If it ever comes down to a choice between me and Deck, Logan will always choose Deck. Of course he will. He probably likes me fine. He seems to anyway. But I’m new, and Deck is like family to him.

“You understand what I’m saying?”

“Yes,” I manage to get out. “I understand.”

“You’ll be careful?”

“I’ll be careful.”

Logan nods and turns away from me, heading toward the front of the house like Deck.

And I’m left alone with a lot of heavy, confused revelations.

They’re a hopeless muddle in my head, but they basically boil down to just this. I’m starting to maybe want something to happen with Deck, but it can’t. It absolutely can’t.

Because there are so many things in this world more important than getting a boyfriend. And it’s not just my heart that would be put at risk.

It could end up as a threat to my life and safety, and no relationship is worth that.

For the rest of the day, I’m upset but trying not to show it. Partly because it’s no one’s business why my heart got thrown into such turmoil and partly because it seems smarter to not let these people view me as emotionally messy.

I’ve worked hard to be an easygoing and useful member of this community, and I’m not going to throw all that effort away because of insignificant relationship issues.

Overall, I do a good job. I avoid the front porch where Deck is helping some of the other guys replace rotting wood. At dinner, I chat with Micah and Burgundy and make an effort to not pay particular attention to Deck.

I’m sick to my stomach but also proud of myself for handling the situation so smoothly when it starts to get dark. After washing up and going to the bathroom outside, I climb into my lower bunk in the turret room.

Because I’ve been so resolutely ignoring Deck’s presence, I’m actually not sure where he’s gotten to after dinner. I’m settling under my covers when the bedroom door opens and his big body fills the small space.

He’s holding a flashlight, and he shines it in my vicinity but not directly in my eyes.

“I’m here,” I say, assuming he’s simply checking for my presence. “Good night.”

Leaning lower, he peers at me with a questioning frown. He waves a hand vaguely in my direction.

Because I know him and because his face—even hidden by so much beard—usually conveys what he’sfeeling, I understand what he’s asking. “I’m fine. Nothing is wrong.”

It’s a lie but not a big one. Whatever is happening in my heart is not his concern. I don’t have to share it with anyone.

His frown deepens. His thick eyebrows pull together more tightly. He gestures more emphatically.

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