“Logan. Touching.”
“Logan was close enough for me to touch, to smell, to feel his breath on my forehead. Close enough to kiss. If only he were alive.”
“Logan steps in between us.”
“I love you too, Logan”
“I shake my head. I don't want anything from Logan. Logan is dangerous. Handling a wholesome dairy product does not ease the effects of the malfeasance he's guilty of.”
“Personally." My mother digs a smile into the side of her cheek. "I'm rooting for Logan."Logan produces a grin that suggests he's the cat that ate the canary, and suddenly I'm feeling rather canary-ish.”