4. Sierra

4

SIERRA

I 'm sitting cross-legged on my childhood bed, submerged in a sea of memories. The photo album in my lap feels heavier than it should, each page filled with snapshots of the life I left behind. My fingers trace the edges of a picture—Logan and myself at seventeen, his arm draped casually over my shoulders, both of us grinning like we had the whole world figured out.

God, we were so young. So naive.

I flip to another page, and I draw in a breath. It's us at the Harvest Festival. Logan is holding a caramel apple, and I'm reaching for a bite. The happiness radiating from that moment is almost palpable.

"We were so good together," I murmur to the empty room.

I can't help but compare the golden memories to last night. God, the way Logan looked at me, his eyes flickering with something familiar yet new? For a heart-stopping moment, I was convinced he was going to kiss me. I wanted him to kiss me.

But he didn't.

I brush my fingers over my lips, remembering the almost-kiss. Everything about that moment had felt right. The air between us was charged with mutual desire. Why didn't he kiss me?

No, I know why. I'm not the same girl he was in love with at seventeen.

A knock on my bedroom door jolts me back into reality. I look up to see my dad standing in the doorway, his kind eyes filled with concern.

"Hey, sweetheart. How are you doing?"

I snap the photo album shut and force a smile. "I'm good, Dad. Come on in."

He settles at the foot of my bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. "You sure? You've been awful quiet since you got back last night."

Like that, my facade crumbles. I run a hand through my hair, sighing. "I'm…I don't know, Dad. I feel so lost. Like I don't even know who I am anymore."

"Is this about your career?"

"Partly," I say. After a moment of hesitation, I go on. "Seeing Logan yesterday stirred up all these feelings I thought I'd buried years ago. Now I'm more confused than ever."

My dad nods, his expression thoughtful. "I won't pretend to have all the answers, Sierra. But I do know one thing. You can never go wrong by listening to your heart."

His words hang in the air between us. I fidget with the edge of the comforter, avoiding his gaze.

"So you still have feelings for Logan?" he asks gently.

I open my mouth, then close it again. How do I even begin to explain the storm of emotions swirling inside me?

"I don't know," I finally say. "Last night, when we were together, I definitely felt something. But it's all so confusing and complicated. We're not the same people we were at seventeen."

A knowing smile tugs at my dad's lips. "Of course you're not the same people you were at seventeen. But that doesn't mean the love you once had for each other is gone."

I blink, surprised by his words. "Dad, when I was seventeen, you thought Logan and I were too serious. You were always telling me to slow down, remember?"

He chuckles, shaking his head. "I know. I remember. But it wasn't because I didn't like Logan or didn't believe in your feelings. I just didn't want to see you close off other options before living life. You were so young, with so much ahead of you."

His words sink in, and I feel a lump forming in my throat. "And now?"

"Now?" He reaches out, squeezing my hand. "Now you've lived. You've chased your dreams, experienced the world. If your feelings for Logan are still there, well…that's something worth exploring, don't you think?"

I nod, feeling some of the weight lift off my chest. "Thanks for the advice, Dad. When did you get so wise?"

He laughs, standing up from the bed. "I've always been wise. You just finally got old enough to notice."

I roll my eyes, but I'm smiling.

"Why don't we all do something as a family today?" he suggests. "Maybe go on a hike or something? Get your mind off things for a bit?"

The thought of spending the day with my family, away from the tangled mess of emotions I have about Logan, feels like exactly what I need. "That sounds perfect."

The hike we go on is breathtaking. Autumn colors paint the landscape in vibrant reds, oranges, and golds. The crisp air fills my lungs, renewing me with each step. For a few wonderful hours, life feels simple and good.

But that night, I find myself wide awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. The peace I felt earlier has evaporated, replaced by another cascade of thoughts about Logan.

I can't stop thinking about how ridiculously hot he looked working on that tractor, all tan skin and defined muscles. And how every time he smiles at me, it makes my heart race. With Logan, I laugh so much more. I feel good .

But I came here to find myself, not to fall back into an old relationship. Is reconnecting with Logan really what I need right now?

It feels risky. Messy.

Then again, Logan knew me before all the fame and fortune. He saw me as just Sierra, the girl with big dreams. Maybe this is exactly what I need—to spend time with the person who knew me best before I lost myself in the whirlwind of stardom.

I roll over, reaching for my phone on the nightstand. Before I can second-guess myself, my fingers fly across the screen, writing a text.

Twenty minutes later, I'm tiptoeing down the stairs of my parents' house, wincing at every creak of the old floorboards. My heart pounds as I ease the front door open, praying it doesn't wake anyone. The cool night air hits my face as I slip outside, closing the door with extra care behind me.

Logan's truck is idling at the curb, his strong silhouette behind the wheel. I hurry over, feeling like a teenager sneaking out. As I climb into the passenger seat, the scent of leather and Logan's cologne envelops me. He looks devastatingly handsome in the dim light.

"Hey, troublemaker," Logan says, his voice low and warm.

I can't stop myself from grinning. "Hey."

He puts the truck in gear and we cruise through the quiet streets of Eagle Falls, the radio playing softly in the background. It feels a little surreal, like we've stepped back in time. Especially when an old favorite of ours comes on the radio.

I glance at Logan, wondering if he's thinking of the same things as I am—all those slow dances, and heated kisses, and everything else. The look on his face tells me he does, and my chest squeezes tight.

But as the last notes fade away, my stomach drops. The opening chords of one of my own songs start playing. Embarrassment rushes through me, and I reach out to change the station.

But Logan catches my wrist, stopping me.

"Leave it," he insists, cranking up the volume. Then, to my utter shock, he starts belting out the lyrics, perfectly in time with my recorded voice.

I can't help but laugh, both mortified and oddly touched. "Seriously, Logan? How do you even know all the words?"

He grins, still singing along without missing a beat. The crescendo of Logan's off-key singing reaches its peak, and I'm laughing so hard my sides hurt.

Suddenly, a deafening bang interrupts his singing. The truck lurches violently, and I let out a scream.

"Shit!" Logan hisses, wrestling the steering wheel as he guides us to the side of the road.

My heart is pounding like crazy as we come to a stop. Logan gets out of the truck and I follow, the gravel crunching under my feet.

"Blew a tire," Logan says, crouching to inspect the damage. "Damn it."

Without hesitation, he rolls up his sleeves, revealing his burly, muscular forearms. "I'll have this fixed in no time. Hop back in the truck where it's warm."

"Not a chance," I say, moving to the bed of the truck. "Where's your jack?"

Logan raises an eyebrow. "Sierra, you don't have to?—"

"I'm helping," I insist. "I might be a city girl now, but I haven't forgotten everything."

A slow smile spreads across Logan's face. "All right. Let's see what you've got."

We work in tandem, Logan loosening the lug nuts while I position the jack. As he lifts the truck, I can't pull my eyes from his flexing muscles. Swallowing, I silently chide myself for feeling so turned on.

"Hand me the tire iron?" Logan asks, and I do it without missing a beat.

As we lower the truck back down, our hands brush. A little spark of electricity passes between us, and for a moment, our gaze holds, both of us breathless from more than just the physical exertion.

"We make a good team," Logan says softly.

I nod, suddenly very aware of how close we're standing. "Always have."

Logan wets his lips. "You've got a little something on your cheek."

Before I can react, he reaches out, brushing his thumb against my skin. His touch sends a shiver down my spine, and I find myself leaning into his hand. For a moment, the world around us fades away. Logan's gaze drops to my lips, and my heart races with anticipation.

But then he clears his throat, breaking the moment. "We should get back in the truck. It's not safe to be out here on the side of the road like this."

Disappointment courses through me, but I nod, following his lead. Once we're both back in the truck, I expect him to start the engine, but he doesn't.

Instead, he turns to face me, his blue eyes intense in the dim light.

When he speaks, his voice is low and husky. "What would you do if I kissed you right now?"

Suddenly it's hard to breathe. A thousand thoughts race through my mind, but only one answer feels right.

"I wouldn't stop you."

That's all the invitation Logan needs. He leans over, cupping my face with his big hands. When his lips meet mine, it's like coming home. His kiss is soft and slow at first, then becomes more heated as years of pent-up longing pour out.

I melt into him, my fingers threading through his hair. Logan's hand trails down my neck, sending sparks of electricity over my skin. When his fingers graze the chain of my necklace, he pulls back slightly, curiosity in his eyes.

Gently, he tugs the necklace out from behind my shirt. His eyes widen as he recognizes the pendant.

"You still have this?" he asks, his voice filled with wonder.

I nod, feeling a pleasant blush creep up my cheeks. "I wear it every day."

And with that, his lips are on mine again.

Later, after Logan drops me off at my parents' house, I tiptoe through the darkened house, my heart rate still recovering from our little make-out session. I'm almost at the stairs when a voice cuts through the darkness.

"Late night?"

I nearly jump out of my skin. "Jesus, Gabe!" I hiss, clutching my chest. "You scared the crap out of me."

My brother's silhouette emerges from the kitchen doorway. "Come here," he says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Sighing, I follow him into the kitchen. He flicks on the light, and I blink against the sudden brightness. Gabe leans against the counter, arms crossed, looking way too awake for how late it is.

"It's not what you think," I say, but I can hear how unconvincing I sound. "Logan and I were just catching up. I didn't want to wake anyone up, that's all."

Gabe's eyebrow quirks up. "At two in the morning?"

I feel heat creeping up my neck. "We had to fix a blown tire. It's not a big deal."

"Sierra," Gabe says, his voice softening. "I'm worried about you. Both of you."

"What do you mean?"

"Logan never got over you, sis."

I freeze, my mouth suddenly dry. "What are you talking about?"

"He hasn't been with anyone since you left," Gabe continues, his eyes locked on mine. "Hasn't even looked at another girl. I'm pretty sure he's still in love with you."

The words hit me with a blow. I sink into a chair, my mind reeling. "But...it's been years."

Gabe nods, his expression grim. "Exactly. Which is why I'm worried. I don't want to see him get his heart broken again."

I stare at my brother, still struggling to process his words. "I had no idea. But Gabe, I promise, I'm not here to hurt anyone. Especially not Logan."

"I know you wouldn't ever do it on purpose, Sierra. Just be careful, okay?"

I nod, stumbling as I head upstairs. My head is spinning as I enter the guest room and collapse onto the bed.

Logan can't still be in love with me. It's been over a decade.

But Gabe wouldn't lie about something like this.

I roll onto my back, staring at the ceiling. Is it really true that Logan hasn't been with anyone since we were together? The thought makes my stomach flutter in a way I'm not prepared for.

But then a sobering realization hits me: I haven't been with anyone either. Sure, there have been a few casual dates here and there, carefully orchestrated by my PR team.

But nothing real.

I've always told myself that I had to stay single because of my career. That I was too busy, too focused on my music to get distracted by relationships. It was easier that way, wasn't it? To pour everything into my songs, my performances, my fans.

But now, lying here in the dark, I'm forced to confront a truth I've been avoiding for years.

Maybe it wasn't just about the music.

Maybe I've been avoiding relationships because I knew, deep down, that no one would ever measure up to what I had with Logan.