Updated Nov 27, 2025 • ~7 min read
Jo woke up to sunlight streaming through her window and Logan’s arm heavy across her waist.
For a moment, she just lay there, processing.
Last night had happened.
They’d said I love you.
They’d slept together.
Everything had changed.
“You’re overthinking,” Logan’s voice rumbled against her neck.
“How do you know?”
“I can feel your anxiety from here. Your whole body tensed up.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Just talk to me. What’s going on in that head?”
Jo turned to face him. Logan looked sleep-rumpled and soft, dark hair messy, eyes still half-closed.
“Just processing,” she said.
“Processing what?”
“Last night. Us. All of it.”
Logan propped himself up on one elbow. “Regrets?”
“No! God, no. Last night was perfect. I just—” Jo stopped. How did she explain the fear creeping in?
“You’re scared,” Logan said. Not a question.
“A little.”
“Of what?”
“Of this being too good. Of waiting for it to fall apart. Of…” Jo took a breath. “Of needing you so much it terrifies me.”
Logan’s expression softened. “I’m scared too.”
“You are?”
“Terrified. This thing between us—it’s big. Bigger than anything I’ve felt before. And I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. For you to wake up and realize I’m not worth it.”
“Logan, that’s never going to happen.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do.”
They lay there, facing each other, both scared, both trying to be brave.
“What if we mess this up?” Jo whispered.
“Then we fix it. Together.”
“What if we can’t fix it?”
“Then we tried. That’s more than most people do.”
Jo’s chest tightened. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“You won’t.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“No. But I can promise I’ll fight like hell to keep you.”
They were quiet for a moment.
Then Logan said, “Maybe we’re putting too much pressure on this.”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe we should just… keep it casual. No expectations. No pressure. Just see where it goes.”
Something in Jo’s chest twisted. “Casual?”
“Not casual like that. We’re exclusive. I love you. That doesn’t change. But maybe we stop worrying about the future and just focus on now.”
It made sense. Took the pressure off. Gave them room to breathe.
So why did it feel like a step backward?
“Okay,” Jo heard herself say. “Casual. We can do casual.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Makes sense. Less pressure.”
Logan nodded. “Less pressure.”
They both knew they were lying.
Nothing about what they felt was casual.
But the fear was real. And protecting themselves felt safer than admitting how desperately they needed this to work.
Later, after Logan left for work and Jo was alone with Olive, she called Erika.
“So we said I love you and slept together,” Jo announced.
“FINALLY! How was it?”
“Perfect. Amazing. Everything I hoped.”
“I sense a ‘but’ coming.”
“This morning we agreed to keep it casual.”
Silence.
“Erika?”
“I’m processing. You… what?”
“We both got scared. Decided to take the pressure off by not worrying about the future.”
“Jo. You’re in love with him.”
“I know.”
“He’s in love with you.”
“I know.”
“So why the hell are you pretending to be casual?”
“Because we’re both terrified of screwing this up! If we keep it casual, maybe it won’t hurt so much if it falls apart.”
“That’s the stupidest logic I’ve ever heard.”
“Thanks for the support.”
“I’m being supportive by telling you you’re being an idiot. You can’t love someone casually. It doesn’t work like that.”
“I know. But I don’t know what else to do. Every time something good happens in my life, it falls apart. Gran died. My last three relationships imploded. What if Logan’s next?”
“Or what if he’s not? What if he’s the one who stays?”
Jo wanted to believe that. Desperately.
“I don’t know how to trust that,” she admitted.
“Then fake it until you make it. Act like you trust it. Eventually your heart will catch up.”
After hanging up, Jo sat on her couch, Olive’s head in her lap, thinking about trust and fear and the impossible balance between protecting yourself and being brave.
Her phone buzzed.
Logan: Miss you already. Ridiculous?
Jo: Not ridiculous. I miss you too.
Logan: Lunch later?
Jo: Yes please.
Logan: It’s a date. Even though we’re being casual.
Jo: Very casual.
Logan: Extremely casual.
Jo: The most casual.
Logan: This is working great.
Jo: So great.
Logan: We’re terrible liars.
Jo: The worst.
Logan: Lunch at Brewed Awakening? 1 PM?
Jo: I’ll be there.
Lunch was anything but casual.
They sat at their usual corner table, knees touching under the table, hands finding each other constantly, eyes locked like magnets.
“This doesn’t feel casual,” Logan observed.
“Not even a little bit.”
“Want to admit we were lying?”
“Not yet. I’m committed to the bit.”
Logan laughed. “How long are we maintaining this charade?”
“Until one of us breaks.”
“I give it three days.”
“I give it two.”
They made it approximately six hours.
That evening, Logan showed up at Jo’s door with takeout and a sheepish expression.
“I can’t do casual,” he said without preamble.
“Thank god. Me neither.”
Logan stepped inside, setting down the food, pulling Jo into his arms.
“I love you,” he said. “Not casually. Not with reservations. Completely and terrifyingly and I want a future with you even though it scares me.”
“I love you too. And I want the future. All of it. Even the scary parts.”
“Even the scary parts?”
“Especially the scary parts. Because they mean you matter. And I’d rather be scared with you than safe without you.”
Logan kissed her. Deep and thorough and full of promise.
When they broke apart, both slightly breathless, Jo smiled.
“That lasted even shorter than I predicted,” she said.
“Six hours is pathetic.”
“We’re pathetic.”
“Completely.”
“I’m okay with that.”
“Me too.”
They ate dinner curled up on the couch, Olive between them, talking about everything except how scared they both still were.
Because the fear was there. Probably always would be.
But so was the love.
And right now, the love was bigger.
Bigger than the fear.
Bigger than the doubt.
Bigger than anything Jo had felt before.
And that was terrifying.
But it was also the most beautiful thing she’d ever experienced.
So she’d be scared.
She’d overthink and spiral and worry about the future.
But she’d do it with Logan.
And somehow, that made it okay.
Erika: How’s the casual thing going?
Jo: We lasted six hours before admitting we’re terrible liars and want the whole future together.
Erika: I KNEW IT
Erika: You’re getting married aren’t you?
Jo: We haven’t even talked about that yet.
Erika: Give it a month. You’ll be engaged.
Jo: That’s insane.
Erika: Screenshot this conversation. Come back to it in a month. I’m never wrong.
Jo: You’re impossible.
Erika: I’m a visionary.
Jo fell asleep that night in Logan’s arms, both of them in her bed, Olive snoring at their feet.
Casual had lasted all of six hours.
And Jo had never been happier about failing at something in her entire life.
Because this—whatever this was—wasn’t meant to be casual.
It was meant to be everything.
Forever.
And Jo was finally ready to believe in forever.
Even if it scared her.
Especially because it scared her.
Because the best things always did.
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