Page 112 of Just Say Yes

My breath slipped out in a rush.

Logan.

His words weren’t elaborate or carefully crafted. They weren’t meant to manipulate or guilt me. They were simple, honest, real.

I stared at the message, the lump in my throat easing just a little.

My thumb hovered over the keyboard, the weight of the day pressing down on me as I tried to figure out what to say.

Tonight was perfect. Good night.

It was short, but it felt like more than enough.

I set the phone down, curling into my blanket as memories of Logan wrapped around me.

For the first time that night, I felt myself start to settle, the ache in my chest softening into something quieter.

But sleep didn’t come easy.

I stared at the ceiling, the faint glow of the moonlight outside spilling through the curtains. My mind wouldn’t stop spinning, replaying Trent’s text, Logan’s voice, Bug’s words.

Her advice had sounded simple enough—Don’t let fear keep you from something good.

But what if I wasn’t the one keeping it away? What if Logan was just passing through, like everyone else?

What if I wasn’t good enough for him to stay?

The last thing I remembered before sleep finally claimed me was the sound of Logan’s voice in my head, warm and steady.

And the thought I couldn’t shake: I had to figure out how to trust that a man like Logan wouldn’t leave.

* * *

Bluebird Booksalways smelled the same—like paper, pine, and the faintest hint of espresso from the coffee maker tucked into the corner. It was comforting in a way I hadn’t expected tonight.

The room was buzzing with laughter and chatter, women perched on mismatched chairs and leaning against shelves crammed with paperbacks. Someone had brought a charcuterie board that was already half empty, and there were at least four open bottles of wine scattered across the tables.

This wasn’t just a book club. It was a ritual—a midweek reset where we could talk about anything and everything, with only the occasional mention of the actual book we were supposed to be discussing.

I’d barely made it through the door when Annie spotted me. Her eyes lit up, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.

“Well, well,” she drawled, crossing her arms and tilting her head. “Look who decided to grace us with her presence—and looking all glowy too.”

My cheeks burned instantly. “I’m not glowing.”

“You don’t just walk into book club looking like that without some juicy details, MJ,” another voice chimed in. Emily was already swirling her glass of wine like she was interrogating me.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I muttered, heading straight for the wine.

Annie wasn’t having it. She grabbed my arm, steering me toward a circle of chairs near the back. “Oh, you know exactly what I’m talking about. Come on, spill it. What’s going on with you and Logan?”

The sound of his name sent a jolt through me, and I fumbled with the corkscrew. “Nothing’s going on.”

“Liar.” Emily leaned in, her grin widening. “That smile says otherwise.”

I fixed my face. “I’m not smiling.”

“You’re totally smiling,” Annie countered. “And blushing. God, you’re the worst at hiding things. So what’s he like? Are the abs as good as they look in the photos?”

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