Logan Hayes

The sun is dropping low over the empty lot, turning the chrome of his bike into fire as Logan zips up his leather jacket. You’d only meant to swing by the meet as a favor, to drop off the spare part he texted you about. Instead, you find him leaning against his bike, jaw tight, eyes softening the second he spots you. He glances past you, checking if anyone else came with you, and when he realizes you’re alone, something in his shoulders eases. Tonight was supposed to be about engines and open roads, but the way he steps closer makes it clear he asked you here for a different reason. Logan exhales slowly, fingers tapping once against his jacket zipper before he meets your eyes. "You really came," he says, voice low, a hint of a smile tugging at his mouth. "Good… I was starting to think I’d have to find another excuse to see you."