Page 140 of Riding the Sugar High

“Logan, the doctor thinks you should stay. Stop being stubborn and?—”

“It’s just because my heartbeat isslightlyelevated.”

“That sounds like a good reason!”

“It’s not, trust me. My heart is fine. I just need to get this over with. Let’s go back to the station, book me, and I’ll pay the bail.”

Exhaling, I take a step forward. There's no way I'll let any of that happen, and Josie's here. As an officer, she won't be able to ignore it if I confess.

With my heart in my throat, I pull the curtain open, my eyes landing on Logan, sitting on the hospital bed with no shirt and part of his tattoos covered by cables and electrodes attached to monitors around him.

“Primrose,” he breathes out, but his voice is drowned out by the machines’ beeps, which go from a soothing, stable rhythm to a rising, irregular cacophony.

The blinking light on the screen to his right turns red, and on the monitor, the numbers rise and rise until his heartbeat reaches one hundred and twenty. Unable to say a word, I meet his gaze.

Is his heart...beating faster?

For me?

“Are you okay?” he asks, and if I had the ability to utter a word, I’d point out the absurdity ofhimaskingmethat question. But his heartbeat is at one hundred and forty now, and genuinely worried about his well-being, I point at the screen.

“Should I leave?”

He swallows, a pink hue spreading over his neck and cheeks as he shakes his head, then takes the pulse ox off his finger and throws it to the side.

His heart beats for me.

So fast, sohonest.

I rush to his side, then awkwardly set a knee on the bed and try to climb in, his hands gripping my hips to help me up just at the right moment. My face sinks into the crook of his neck, and throwing my arm over him, I feel his heart pounding against my chest.

His heart is my favorite thing about him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into my hair, and my hold on him tightens. I don’t care about anything else right now but the fact that he has feelings for me. And feelings that actively modify your vitals are feelings you can’t argue with. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

I can feel it in his quavering voice, and smiling against his skin, I nod. Today, he had his first panic attack without me around. He must have been so scared. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you. Iswear.”

He smiles softly, then his eyes dip to my mouth, and answering his silent question, I press a kiss on his lips. I’ve missed them so much.

Josie coughs. “Um, so...I’m sorry to interrupt, but you both don’t seem aware of what the other has been up to, so I figured I should catch you up.” She points at me, then at him. “You’ve both confessed to the same crime, then sworn again and again that the other was not involved.”

“You what?” Logan hisses.

Right. I nearly forgot to scold him about that. “Why would you confess, Logan?”

“Jesus, Primrose. Why wouldyou?”

“Because I can’t let you go to prison for my crime, obviously,” I whisper.

His chin jerks back. “Well, same!”

I should get off him, but he only lets me shift to a seated position before he turns to Josie. “Ignore everything she said. It was me who?—”

“No!” I burst, my heartbeat picking up. “No, that’s not true. I was the one who set Derek’s garbage on fire, and?—”

“Bullshit,” he insists. “Why the hell would you have stolen his piglets?”

“Why would you be using a pink scrunchie?”

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