Page 129 of Hypothetical Heart
Logan presses his lips into my hair, wrapping his arms securely around my waist. “I love you,” he whispers.
It’s the one thing I never need him to say because his love already resides so deep in my soul, and the sentiment only makes it run deeper through my bones. “I love you more than I ever have.”
My boyfriend scrapes a hand along his jaw. “The sex was that good?” he jokes.
My lip quirks. “Don’t get cocky now.”
He kisses me, this time on the lips. “Not cocky, accurate.”
God, we sound like Jameson and Genevieve bickering right now.
It doesn’t last long, though, and without either of us saying anything else, we sink further into the couch and the comfort of each other. Everything slows to a speed I could cruise with him forever at. Everything just feelsright.
All of the broken pieces have mended themselves, fitting right into place. This love, however scary it may be at times, isours,and there’s nothing greater than that.
38
FEBRUARY
Iwake up to flowers on my bedside table, just like I have for nearly a decade, on Valentine’s Day.
Except, instead of the boy I received them from sleeping in the house next door, he’s now sleeping in my bed with his arms wrapped around me.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed and pick up the vase, holding it to my chest as I inhale the familiar scent of white and pink roses. The glass may be chilling my skin, but the gesture turns my insides warm and gooey.
Not wanting to leave Logan’s presence just yet, I set the flowers back down and lay back in my place next to him. His arm automatically wraps around me, and I know he hasn’t been asleep this entire time.
“When did you get the flowers?” I ask, resting my head in the crook of his neck and shoulder.
He turns to face me. “Last night, I kept them in my apartment and went down to get them before you woke up.”
“I didn’t hear you leave.”
“Of course you didn’t.” He laughs. “You could probablysleep through a freight train plowing through our building.”
I rip the pillow out from behind his head and hit him with it, but before I can even laugh about it, he takes it back and throws it at me. When the pillow lands on the floor, he rolls toward me, bracing his arms on either side of my frame and making it so our faces are only inches apart.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.” He smiles.
My face mirrors his, and I feel every ounce of the love I have for him flood my body. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Logan.”
Logan leans down, brushing his lips against mine in a kiss that's soft but filled with years of history. When he pulls back, the warmth in his eyes makes my chest feel like it’s about to burst.
“What do you want to do today?” he asks, his fingers gently brushing my hair behind my ear.
I shrug, feeling content just lying here with him. “I’m not sure. What about you?”
He grins. “Well, I figured we’d start with breakfast. Then I have something planned, but it’s a surprise.”
My eyebrows lift. “A surprise? Should I be worried?”
He chuckles, dipping his head so that his nose skims against my cheek. “When have I ever let you down?”
I roll my eyes playfully.
He grins again, that charming, easy smile I’ve known my whole life. “Trust me. I’ve been planning this for weeks.”
Weeks?My curiosity piques, but I don’t push him for any information. Loganlovesplanning surprises, and I would feel too bad taking that away from him.
