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Logan's POV

I hadn't expected James to take me to his apartment that day. I mean, I don't think I expected to ever go in his apartment.

But that afternoon he took me there.

It was what I would expect from a "beach bum" (as he called himself sometimes). It was small and somewhat messy, though he claimed he tidied up the night before. Nothing fancy- a small TV, an old couch, messy kitchen and bathroom, and a small but homey bedroom. I could tell it was home to him- he made it his nest.

"I thought I would make you some breakfast," James said, sitting on the arm of the couch as I looked around.

"Really? It's lunchtime."

"So?" James smiled. "I can do pancakes or French toast or eggs or anything. Except bacon. I don't have bacon."

"How about…" I said, thinking as I looked at pictures of him and his mom on the bookshelf. "Chocolate chip pancakes?"

"Good choice," James beamed. "I'm surprised you didn't ask for dry toast and black coffee."

I grinned back at him and watched him make his way to the kitchen. A man who cooks is probably one of my turn-ons. Maybe it's because I can't really make food all that well, but it's really sexy to me when a man cooks and is good at it.

"Feel free to snoop," he called, his voice echoing. "I don't think I have anything suspicious."

"We'll see," I teased.

Of course there weren't many books on the shelves. More pictures and knick-knacks. There were a few books, though- they were photography books. I picked one up and flipped through, seeing stunning photos of beach scenes. He had a few marked with sticky notes, which I guessed were his favorites.

I ventured into his bedroom then, and was hit by the intoxicating smell of James. The bed was unmade and clothes littered the floor, which drove me insane, but it was James so it was okay. There wasn't much to see in there besides his colognes and clothes, and I wasn't going to snoop in drawers or anything, so I exited.

James was singing as he cooked. I mean really singing. Not softly, either. It was like he was performing. I smiled a little to myself, listening as I entered the living room.

He had a lot of movies stacked atop his TV, which ranged from Disney to horror to romantic comedies. He didn't seem to have a cable box, and I figured he didn't have the money or time for that.

Finally I smelled pancakes and made my way to the kitchen. I sat on the counter and listened to him sing and watched him flip pancakes.

"What song was that?" I asked after he was finished.

"Let It Go," James said, brows knitted like I should know that.

"Never heard it."

"What?" he snapped. "You've never even seen 'Frozen'?"

"Isn't that a Disney princess movie?" I teased.

"Okay, yeah, but it's family fun for everyone," James said defensively, but I could see that he wasn't really mad. "We'll watch it today."

"Two grown men watching a Disney movie together," I smirked. "Isn't that about an ice princess?"

"Okay, Elsa isn't an ice princess," he corrected. "Elsa is an ice queen."

I put my hands up in surrender and he smirked.

"You'll love it," he said. "Everyone loves 'Frozen'."

It was strange eating pancakes on the couch, but I soon realized that James didn't have a table to eat at.

"You don't have much, do you?" I teased as he knelt before the TV and put "Frozen" in the DVD player.

"I don't make a lot of money, and I live here alone," James reasoned with a shrug. "What would I need a table for? Mostly I eat on the balcony or the couch anyway."

The movie started and he hurriedly picked up his plate of pancakes and sat beside me excitedly.

"How're the pancakes?" he prodded as the previews continued.

"Really good," I said.

"My own recipe. Just take pancake powder and add water," he winked. "And as many chocolate chips as your heart desires. Too chocolaty for you?"

"No- just perfect."

James seemed to beam at that as he took a bite of his pancakes and fast-forwarded to the beginning of the movie.

Eventually the plates disappeared and James' head was on my shoulder, his legs casually over my lap and arm around my lower back. I pulled my arm out from the bundle and stroked his hair, which he seemed to like.

Honestly, I'd rather be using this time making out… But James seemed so happy.

The movie turned out to be not as bad as I was expecting. As the ending credits showed, James looked up at me.

"So?" he asked.

"I liked it," I admitted. He grinned and kissed my cheek before heaving himself up into a sitting position. "What now?"

"I dunno," James answered thoughtfully.

"I thought you 'had a plan'?" I teased.

"Darling. You'll learn that I never have a plan. That's what you're for," James grinned, getting up.

James's POV

Having Logan there in my apartment really gave me a taste of what being with him would be like. I mean, living together, being together all day, cooking for him. I really loved having him around. He was a better houseguest than Mercedes, at least. He didn't open drawers and rummage, he didn't whine, and he wasn't bossy. He wanted me to take the lead, and I think I liked it.

"You're cute with your mom," Logan said, nodding his head to the shelf with pictures of Mom and I on it. Honestly, I didn't like the pictures. In most of them I was a chubby kid, and in some I was a spoiled high schooler. There was only one that was recent.

"We used to be pretty close."

"Why aren't you anymore?"

"Money. And I realized my true sexuality and sometimes I'm afraid to be around her- I might blurt it out," I sighed.

"You should just tell her."

"I've been really thinking about it," I said honestly. "But… It's such a scary thought. How did you come out to your mom?"

Logan twisted his body and got comfortable, his dark eyes on mine seriously.

"My mom knew something was up with me. I got quiet and always stayed in my room and was emotional a lot," he said. "I bet your mom knows something's going on, too."

"Doubtful."

"And she kept asking, and I kept telling her it was school- I was stressed out," he said. "Then one day Kendall came over and we sat Mom down and I told her. It was better with him there to support me, but he didn't say much."

"What did you say?"

"I told her that something has been on my mind lately. And I was quiet for a long time. Thinking. Trying not to cry. Then I just said it. 'Mom, I'm gay'."

"Just like that?"

"I expected her to cry, considering what happened with my dad," Logan continued. "But she just got quiet for a minute. Then she looked up and asked if Kendall and I were dating. Kendall was quick to deny, then she laughed and I knew it was all okay. And it was."

My eyes dropped as I thought. I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to call the wedding off and come out to my mom. Maybe she would reject me, but wouldn't I be happier knowing that I am myself, and I can be with whoever I want, AKA Logan? And like Logan said, I was all she had, and she was my mother. She couldn't disown me.

"James?" Logan asked softly, taking my hands in his. I looked up into his eyes, and found that he was searching mine. "It'll be okay. I promise. If you decide to tell her, your life will be so much easier and happier. I know you're scared, and that's okay. But if you never tell her, you won't be free."

I found myself falling into his arms, clutching to me.

"I'm so scared," I said softly.

"I know," he said, rubbing my back. "Just do what will make you happiest."

And that meant coming out to Mom and ending the wedding madness. That meant being with Logan and never letting him go. It meant going for my acting, singing, or modeling dreams.

"You're not alone," Logan reminded me. "You have me and Kendall, and most importantly Carlos. Maybe he can go with you."

"Thanks, Loge," I said, pulling away. "I think I'm gonna do it."

Logan smiled a little, supportively.

"It'll get better after you do," he said, giving me a peck on the lips. "I promise you that."

Logan's POV

I kissed James again, a longer and more intimate one this time. He hummed in contentment, his warm fingers brushing my cheek. We pulled apart and I looked up into his trustworthy hazel eyes, and we just stared at one another.

As if on cue, our lips connected again, more intense now. My hands reached up to tangle my fingers into his hair as my tongue entered his sweet mouth. His hands were warm through my clothes on my ribs, then his arms wrapped around me.

Before I knew it, I was being lifted off the couch and carried. I felt like a princess or a bride or something, but it was so sexy how James could carry me with such ease. I found that almost everything he did was sexy to me.

"Where are we going?" I asked against his lips.

"Bed," was all he said, and that simple word sent my heart leaping and stomach filling with anxiety.

It's not that I didn't want him to take my virginity. Anyone would be crazy to not want to give their first time to this man. I was just afraid- typical for me. Things could go wrong. What if he has an STD? I don't know anything about his sexual past, other than he did it a lot in high school. What if after we have sex he's done with me? What if he sees me naked and doesn't like what he sees? What if-

I found myself clinging to his neck, my fingers tight in his hair. Keeping him close made me feel safer, though he was the one I was anxious about.

James laid me carefully on the bed, placing a gentle kiss on my jaw before climbing in beside me, lying on his side and looking at me.

I stared back at him in confusion. Wasn't I brought here for sex?

"What's wrong?" I asked, soft enough that my voice wouldn't shake.

"I don't want you to be afraid," he said softly.

"I'm not afraid. Nervous. But excited."

"Really?" he smiled a little.

"Are you afraid?"

"No. I'm ready. Whenever you are."

I was about to open my mouth to ask him to just give me more time, but I realized I didn't have more time. I only had a few days, and if I wasn't ready now, I wouldn't be by the time I left. Then I looked into those gentle hazel eyes and I found that I had nothing to worry about. Like everything else, James would find a way to take care of it.

If I was going to lose my virginity, there was nobody better to give it to. James was perfect.

"Be gentle," I whispered, looking deep into his eyes.

"Always," he murmured sweetly, propping himself up to kiss me.

His hand slid up my leg, then beneath my shirt against my warm skin.

Soon there were gentle lips going to my neck, his hands tugging my shirt up and over my head. His kisses trailed down my body, making my heart thunder and breaths become shallow and quick.

I stared up at the ceiling, my mouth gaping for breath as he kissed my stomach. My fingers groped from his hair to the shoulders of his shirt and started to tug. It was a gentle time, yet so impactful.

He giggled and stood, pulling his shirt off and kissing my lips again.

Obviously I've never had sex before, and I didn't even think about the fact that I hadn't known James even a week and we both had strong beliefs about sex before love. At that point I was so sure that I would eventually love James, and he would love me, too, so what did it matter? James had this way of taking away all of my worries, all of my insecurities, and taking charge.

And I loved that.

My hands brushed over his torso, his sculpted chest and perfect abs.

Breathing hard, James stopped to look deeply into my eyes. I guess he was searching for permission and I granted it to him with a hungry kiss. My hand reached back to tug on the back of his jeans greedily. His fingers fumbled with my button and zipper before tugging everything down and kissing down my body, my heart vibrating in my chest as my eyes squeezed closed, bracing myself.

James's arm hugged my side, his cheek on my shoulder and hair brushing my cheek. We were breathing hard, both sweating and too hot to be cuddling beneath the blankets, yet we were doing just that.

I kissed his forehead, stroking the back of his head.

What we just did was magical. I was nervous at first- afraid of the pain I hear comes with the first time, afraid of awkward encounters, afraid of my inexperience. As usual, James took care of everything to make it perfect for me. I didn't regret it. In fact, I was happy we did it and was ready to do it again.

"Was that your first time?" he asked breathlessly.

"Yes. Was it that obvious?" I chuckled.

"Not at all. That was… Fantastic."

"It was?"

"It wasn't for you?" he asked worriedly, looking up at me.

"It was," I said quickly. "It was… Wow. Thank you."

"You're cute. Thanking me for having sex with you."

I laughed a little and he followed, snuggling into me again.

Suddenly I was hit with a sense of panic. I wanted this every day. Maybe not sex, but James in general. I wanted to have him to kiss and hug and cuddle every day. I wanted his mere presence, his happiness, his love.

But I was going home in a few days, and who knew if I would ever see him again or if he wanted to see me again.

James's POV

I'm not saying I was surprised that Logan was able to rock my world, but I wasn't expecting the sex I had with him to be so good. I've never had sex with a man, and maybe it's the same with all men, but he seemed so tight, so ready to give himself to me, so trusting that I wouldn't hurt him. It was so sexy.

There were times during the sex that he seemed so old and mature- like when he was cursing and taking charge. But then there were times, especially during the beginning, when his innocence, fear, and trusting nature led me to believe he was just a kid. I figured that I had the right to know just how old he was.

"Hey, Logan?" I asked softly, propping myself up on an elbow. His dark eyes turned to me lovingly and I smiled a little. "How old are you?"

Suddenly Logan went rigid, looking away. Now I was really curious. I realized then that like me, Logan was hiding something. Was it fair for me to push it when I wasn't about to tell him my secret?

"Loge?" I asked softly, waiting for his dark eyes on mine. "Why are you hiding it?"

"I just want you to like me," he said softly, breaking my heart.

"I'll never not like you," I said, stroking his cheek with my thumb. "Just tell me."

He took a deep breath and wet his perfect lips.

"Seventeen," he said, not looking into my eyes. I was shocked, I have to admit. I expected eighteen at the youngest, and I wasn't even considering that as an option.

Of course, naturally the first thing that ran through my head was that what we just did was illegal. I've been an adult for years and he isn't even legal yet. What if for some reason he decided to tell the police? I would be arrested.

"Are you serious?"

Logan's brows furrowed and he got up, pulling his boxers up.

"I'm really sorry. I should have told you before we had sex," he said, pulling his pants on and buttoning them. I watched, horrified that he was going to leave. "I promise I won't take you to court for rape or whatever."

"I didn't ask before we had sex," I said simply, pulling up my own underwear and sitting on my knees on the bed. "It's not your fault. And it doesn't mean anything to me. I don't care."

"Oh please," he said, pained. "I know you're turned off by it."

"No," I said. "A little afraid, since you're a minor… But that's it."

I reached out to pull him to me, kissing his bare shoulder and hugging his warm body.

"You'll be eighteen soon, right?" I asked.

"In just a few weeks."

"So it's no problem," I assured, pulling back to kiss his cheek. "I'm just surprised you'd want to be with an old man like me."

Logan burst into adorable laughter and hugged me around my neck.

"I was so afraid you'd ditch me if you found out my age," he said. "Thanks for being cool about it."

"You'll find that I'm cool about pretty much everything."

"I noticed. You even me out," he said, and I pulled away to look up at him with a little smile, my heart melted.

I didn't want to lose him. Never. If God was to ever smile upon me, Logan was it. Logan was what was meant to save my life from being complete shit.

It was up to me to put him to good use. I decided I would call off the wedding and come out to Mom. Right after Logan leaves Saturday, the day after tomorrow. I wanted to soak him in while I could- I didn't know the next time I would see him and had to make sure I would remember him vividly until then.

The next few days after he leaves will be hard for me. I had to enjoy what I had left with him.