Page 107 of Riding the Sugar High

So perfect, I bite my tongue hard to make sure I’m not dreaming.

“Logan?” she whispers, and my eyes abandon her mouth. But she’s not staring back—her gaze is on my lips.

It looks like the same thoughts running through my mind are going through hers too. Like whispering my name wasn’t her calling my attention and reminding me I promised her the meaning of my tattoo, but an invitation. To kiss her, to take her.

“Because I always have his back,” I mumble. “That’s why I got the tattoo there.”

She blinks, meeting my eyes. “You two were that close, huh?” she asks.

Yeah. We were that close before he ruined my life.

Glancing at the view of the farm, I move a hand to my chest. It starts with a subtle shift, almost imperceptible at first. A tingling sensation prickles at the back of my neck, then a spot in my chest begins hurting. Before I can do anything about it, it’s throbbing as if I’ve been stabbed.

I breathe, but it feels like air can’t move past the lump in my throat. As I set a hand on the ground for support, the world spins around me in a dizzying blur.

I think it’s happening again.

I’m suffocating, trapped in a whirlwind and unable to stop it.

I close my eyes, trying to steady my ragged breathing, and Primrose’s voice feels miles away. Much louder is my brother’s voice, then the two of us shouting at each other as my mom cried and tried to keep us apart. The weight of it all presses down on me like a twenty-pound blanket, leaving me gasping for air.

A soft “Hey” reaches me, but I can’t get my breaths to steady. Prim’s sitting on her heels in front of me, terrified wide eyes and pale skin.

“You’re okay,” she says. I can’t hear her, but I read her lips, then shake my head.

No, I’m not okay. I’m dying.

It’s happening again, and I don’t understand why. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, except that something is. I can’t breathe—can’t speak. Sweat gathers as I attempt to inhale, and I wish I could peel my skin off.

“Logan?”

When her hand gently grasps my arm, I cringe as if it’s burned me, my wide eyes meeting hers as I open my mouth and inhale the biggest breath I can.

“I’m here. I’m right here with you.” Her brows are taut, her lips twisted into a sad frown. “Remember the trick I taught you? You can do it.”

Yes. Three things I can see.

I let my eyes roam over her, then jerk my chin toward her ear. “Ice cream cone earrings,” I croak, My gaze dips down. “Yellow dress.” Then down again. “White boots.”

“Good. Great.”

Aaron’s voice echoes in the depths of my mind, nausea twisting my stomach as my head begins pounding. “I’m a fuck up—he’s right,” I say as I look up at Primrose. Though my eyes are open, everything’s blurry. “I killed my relationship. I killed the farm. Everything I touch turns into failure and heartbreak.”

I bring my shaky hands to the side of my head, pressing hard as if I’ll get the noise to die out. But it doesn’t work. It just gets louder and louder.

“You’re wortheverything.”

My eyes meet Primrose’s sad but determined gaze, and only then do I notice I’ve been repeating the very opposite out loud.

“I’m worth nothing.”

“That’s not true, Logan.”

Yes, it is. If I was worth something, my brother wouldn’t have betrayed me. Someone would have taken my side. I wouldn’t have been dumped in such a callous way.

When everyone leaves you behind, you have to wonder ifyou’rethe problem.

Sitting beside me, she tentatively moves her arm around my shoulder, then pulls me closer. My muscles are stiff, and the thought of being hugged makes me claustrophobic, but I let her drag me down until my forehead rests against her neck, my ear to her chest.

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