Lucy

They actually manage to come down for breakfast right on time. All cuddly and giggling, which saves me from asking any further questions. Camille looks at the set table with delight. "Oh, Lucy, that looks wonderful."

I wave off. "Just think of it as a little thank you for taking me with you."

"That's really sweet of you. But you know that really wasn't necessary, right Logan?"

Since he doesn't answer, we both turn around, only to find that Logan is already busy stuffing himself with toast and eggs. He obviously notices that he is being watched and raises his head, looking in our direction. "Huh?"

The look on Camille's face is pure gold.

"If you plan to kill him right away, I promise I'll be your alibi."

Camille shakes her head. "No, too easy. It's better to do it when he's not expecting it."

"Makes sense," I agree.

Logan looks at us with a suspicious look on his face. "I'm not afraid of you."

"Yes, you are!" we say in an aggressive tone, crossing our arms over our chests. And I swear I saw him flinch.

"No," he affirms, which would have sounded far more impressive if his voice hadn't been several octaves higher than usual. Then he turns back to his breakfast. Camille and I exchange a satisfied grin with each other, then we also sit down at the table and start with breakfast.

The mood is good, but there's one thing I can't get out of my head. "Hey Logan . . . did you talk to Kendall about me?"

He looks at me questioningly. "About our trip?"

"Yes."

"I mentioned to the boys that you were going through a lot at the moment. Why, was that wrong?"

"No, it's fine. I was just wondering, that's all."

"Did Kendall call you?" Camille wants to know, but before I can answer, a cell phone rings. The noise comes from the living room.

"That's me," Camille says, and rushes into the living room. Now it's just Logan and me.

"Sooo . . . I guess you and Camille had an . . . interesting morning together, right?"

"What?"

I'm having a really hard time not to roll my eyes at him. But I should have known better. Logan's not the kiss and tell kind of guy.

"Dad!" Camille's voice suddenly comes over to us and she sounds annoyed.

"Uh-uh," Logan murmurs, I look at him confused. "What's going on?"

Before he can answer, Camille comes back, still on the phone and quite upset.

"I don't know what's wrong with that. Uncle Matt allowed me to go with a few friends . . . yes, Dad, Logan is here, too. He . . . of course there are others . . . you don't believe me? Okay, here." She hands me the cell phone. "Please talk to my dad."

Perplexed, I hold the cell phone to my ear. "Hey, Mr. Roberts. I don't know if you remember me. This is Lucy and-" Before I can say something more, Camille takes the phone from me. "Did you hear that? I told you that Logan and I aren't alone."

I look over at Logan, who looks very unhappy.

"No, Dad, we don't have separate bedrooms." Now she sounds almost tired, more resigned. "No, I don't want you to send Uncle Matt over to . . . no, I don't want you to come over to check on things either. Everything's fine here . . . I don't care if you think that's not a good idea . . . yeah, do that, I don't care. Bye, Dad." She ends the call and angrily drops her phone on the table.

"Problems?" I ask.

"No," Camille replies, but turns away from us, takes a few steps towards the living room, then stops and crosses her arms over her chest. I look at Logan meaningfully, but he doesn't seem to understand my nonverbal communication, so I kick him in the shin. He flinches and takes a sharp breath. "Why did you do that?" he asks irritably.

"Go talk to her."

He shakes his head. "Not a good idea."

"Are you kidding me? Do you want me to kick you again? She's your girlfriend and she's upset. So you go over there and-"

"If Camille is in this mood, it's better to leave her alone."

I look at him in disbelief. "Go and talk to her, Logan!"

"Okay!"

I watch as he slowly walks over to Camille, places a hand on her back, and asks her something. But whatever it was, it doesn't seem to have the desired effect, quite the opposite.

"Leave me alone, Logan!" Camille snaps and leaves the house. Logan turns to me. "Told ya."

I roll my eyes and stand up. "Fine. I will talk to her."

I find her down by the lake. "Hey, you okay?" I ask and sit down next to her.

"You tell me. How would you feel if your father tried to control every aspect of your life?"

"I'm surprisingly familiar with that feeling."

"And?"

"It stinks."

"Exactly."

We look out at the lake for a few seconds. "Is he going to do anything?"

"No, he just likes to get on my nerves."

"Does this have anything to do with Logan?"

"A little . . ."

"I never really understood that. What's his problem with Logan?"

"Honestly, I have no idea."

"I see . . . But maybe-"

"Lucy, can we please not talk about my dad?"

"Um, sure. Sorry. So . . . change of subject?"

"Yes, please."

"Okay." But before I can search for a topic, she says, "Kendall called you?"

"He tried but only reached voicemail."

"So he left a message?"

"Yes . . . you wanna hear it?"

As Camille listens to the message, I look out at the lake, trying not to pay attention to his voice.

"Two crazy lovebirds?" Camille says indignantly as she hands me the phone. I smirk. "Trust me, that's one of the most harmless terms for you and Logan."

"Oh, really? Interesting."

"Yes, James and Carlos are responsible for them."

"That doesn't surprise me."

We laugh, then Camille asks, "So that's why you asked Logan about you and Kendall?"

"Yes. Don't get me wrong, of course he can talk to Kendall about me, it's just . . ."

"He shouldn't know how you feel about him?"

"Yes, exactly."

"He seems to be figuring it out himself."

"Apparently."

"Will you call him back?"

"I don't know. I mean, I came here with you to get some distance from him and then all of a sudden he calls me? How am I supposed to get over him when he does things like that?"

"He probably meant it well."

"Yes, as always."

She puts an arm around me. "I'm so sorry you're going through all this right now."

"Is that why you asked Logan to be nice to me?"

"What?"

I smile. "Come on, Cam. You know you can be honest."

She looks at me guiltily. "Are you angry now?"

I must laugh. "No, of course not."

"I thought it would be easier for you this way . . . was it really that obvious?"

I laugh again. "Yeah, pretty much. How did you do that?"

"Oh please. I ask him something to do and he does it."

"You trained him well."

"Well, at least I'm trying."

We grin at each other, then get serious again.

"I appreciate your actions, Cam. I really do. But I don't need cuddles from Logan to feel better."

"Alright," she reluctantly agrees.

"Look at it in this way. Now you two have more time to worry about your own problems."

She raises an eyebrow. "Our own problems?"

Oops . . .

"Well, I meant . . ."

"You heard us."

There is no reason to deny it. "Yes," I admit reluctantly.

"In the car?"

"Yes."

"So you just pretended to be asleep?"

"What? No! No, no, no, no. It wasn't like that. I was asleep, and when I woke up, well, it seemed like you and Logan were having a pretty serious conversation and I didn't want to make the situation any weirder. I'm sorry."

She nods, hugs her knees, sighs.

"Cam, you know if there's something you want to talk about, I'm here for you."

"Actually, you're the only person I can talk to about this kind of thing."

"Oh?"

"You know, Logan and I . . . things haven't always been going so well lately . . ."

"Believe me when I say that I didn't notice. I mean, this morning . . ."

"It's complicated."

"I thought so."

"Do you know what bothers me most about my dad trying to control me?"

I sense that this question is rhetorical, so I remain silent and wait for her answer.

"Sometimes I see these signs in Logan too."

"What?" I'm seriously perplexed.

"Logan hates nothing more than being overwhelmed by a situation. He can't deal with that."

"I'm no expert, but it sounds to me like our Logie has some control issues."

Camille smiles weakly. "Do me a favor and don't tell him that. He'll go crazy."

"So he denies it?"

"Yes. Even though it's pretty obvious. He always wants to be in control. But he doesn't want to control me or anyone else, no, he just wants to control the situation. And that's where the problems begin."

"Like what?"

She's silent, so I take a shot, "Your conversation in the car . . . was it about . . . intimate things?"

"Look, Logan isn't selfish, quite the opposite. He will always think of others before he thinks of himself. At the same time, he also wants to keep an overview of the situation."

I feel like she's leaving something out 'cause I can't follow her. "So . . .?"

"How do I put this . . . when it comes to intimacy, Logan is more of a giver than a taker. And at first, I thought it was my fault, that I'm doing it wrong, and that's why he never lets me . . ."

"Yes?"

"He does so many great things to me. But every time I want to do something nice for him, he blocks me. And it drives me crazy. He just can't let go, no matter what I try. He just gets weird and tense. So I assumed he didn't like what I was doing to him, but he assured me that it wasn't me, it's him. He wants to be in control, he wants to decide what happens."

"Okay, that's definitely more than I ever wanted to know about Logan. But . . . why did you get so angry earlier when he-?"

"I was frustrated because of my dad. And when Logan came to me and asked if there was anything he could do to make me feel better, it was too much for me. 'Cause he did it again. He wanted to know what he can do. He doesn't just ask what would help me, no, he wants to do something because that way he has the situation under control."

"Okay, I see your point."

"Lucy . . . do you think I'm just overreacting? Am I making a fuss over something that isn't actually worth it? Logan says we don't have any problems. But I think . . . oh, I don't know. I was hoping we could use this trip to figure out what we can change, you know, away from the Palm Woods and the stress of everyday life. I thought he might be a little more relaxed here, more open to other things."

"Well, it's basically our second day here, so you still have plenty of time to retrain him. Do you think it might help if I talked to him?"

Now she's laughing, not what I expected, but it's a good thing to hear it.

"That's really nice of you, but I think that would make things worse. But if I need your help, I'll let you know." She stands up. "Come on, let's go back to the house."

Logan is lying on the grass in front of the house. He has his arms folded behind his head, his eyes are closed, and he is listening to music during headphones. Camille stops and watches him for several seconds.

"I should talk to him."

"Sure, but if something goes wrong, let it look like an accident," I reply with a wink. "See you guys later."

And with that I leave them to take care of their own problems.

Lomille

Camille slowly walks up to Logan, kneels down on the grass next to him and taps him on the shoulder. He opens his eyes, recognizes her. "You're back," he says as he takes out the headphones.

She nods. "Can we talk?"

"Of course."

But she says nothing, even though there is so much in her thoughts that she wants to tell him. Logan smiles softly. "Come here," he says quietly, and she follows his invitation, laying her head on his chest and stretching out on the grass. "Do I really need to apologize, or can we just forget about this incident?"

"Well, if I said it wouldn't be pretty exciting to hear you apologize to me, that would be a lie," he says, laughing softly, and she slaps his stomach, "but no, you don't have to apologize."

"I was so . . ."

"Yeah, I know. It was my fault. I did it again, didn't I? So actually, I should be the one who has to apologize."

She turns her head to the side to look at him. "I don't want you to apologize. Can we . . . can't we just enjoy our vacation? I don't want to argue with you all the time."

"Me neither," he says, leans forward and kisses her cheek. Camille raises her eyebrows. "That's it?"

Logan laughs quietly, then puts his arms around her and kisses her tenderly. "Better?"

"Better," she confirms, nodding, "but not perfect."

He has to laugh again. "You're insatiable, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am," she replies teasingly, pulls him close and kisses him passionately.

"I don't think I deserve this," he whispers, close to her lips.

"No, definitely not," she agrees, "but I don't care." And she kisses him again.