Page 63 of Thirst Trap

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Beautiful.

I wish I was there.

With you.

Logan froze.

The words lit through his chest hotter than the sun clawing over the horizon.

For once, he didn’t run.

Didn’t shove the phone in his pocket.

Didn’t lie to himself that it meant nothing.

He just let it sit in his palm.

Real. Simple. Dangerous.

***

The city never slept. Neon and sirens painted the night outside my window, but I was curled up on my couch, laptop open, articles half-written, coffee going cold.

Then my phone buzzed.

I glanced down, expecting another pointless alert.

Instead,

?? [IMG_0691.jpg]

A sunrise.

Golden. Quiet. Soft.

From him.

My breath caught.

Logan Creams, king of shadows, sender of one-word texts and threats dressed as jokes… had sent me the sky. I stared at it toolong, waiting for the trick. For the punchline. For him to follow with delete this or wrong number.

Nothing came.

My fingers shook when I typed back.

Is that a sunrise, Logan Creams? Did the emotionally unavailable twin just send me

a photo of the sky?

I almost deleted it. Too much. Too sharp.

Then I hit send.

His reply didn’t come. Not right away.

The seconds stretched, my heart hammering.

I was supposed to be better than this.

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