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MARTI
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MARTI LAUGHED AND CURLED her legs up underneath her on the couch, unable to help her smile.
“What’s so funny?” Her mom glanced over at her from her recliner, eyes bright.
“Oh, nothing.” Marti waved her away and bit her lip, thinking of what to type back when he beat her to it.
Logan: Want to know a little secret?
Marti’s stomach flipped.
Marti: What?
Logan: I secretly like those movies.
Marti: Of course you do.
Logan: Come on, what’s not to like?
Marti: Um, hello? Read the above conversation. They’re so predictable. Girl meets boy. Girls falls in love with boy. Something bad happens, and in the end, they magically end up together anyway.
Logan: It’s called romance.
Marti: My point exactly. Also known as fiction.
Logan: You have a heart of stone.
Marti: Never claimed otherwise.
Logan: I wonder how much it’ll take to crack.
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MARTI GROANED. IT WAS Saturday night, and it felt like hours since she went to bed, but she was wired and couldn’t sleep. A glance at the neon glow of her alarm clock told her it was after 1 a.m..
She turned in bed and pounded her pillow once before flopping back down again. She wondered what Logan was doing.
Probably sleeping like a baby.
With a sigh, she flicked on the lamp next to her bed and snatched up her phone. She might as well cruse social media until she got tired.
A minute later, she found her fingers hovering over Logan’s contact. Before she could think twice, she quickly clicked on the message icon and typed.
Marti: What’s up?
Only a minute later, a message popped up, and she felt an odd sense of vindication.
Looks like she wasn’t the only who couldn’t sleep.
Logan: Well, well, well. Look who texted me. Bored? Miss me already, McBride?
She huffed and typed.
Marti: You wish.
Logan: I’m back at my place if you want to come over.
Marti: Why would I do that?
Logan: So I can kiss you.
Marti swallowed. If she was being honest, their earlier texts had been flirty, but this was definitely next level.
Marti: Are you drunk?
Logan: Lol No. Do I need to be to want to kiss you? Not exactly a ringing endorsement.
I don’t even know how to answer that.
But as it turned out, she didn’t need to say anything because another text came through.
Logan: Maybe I said it because I want to. Kiss you, I mean.
Marti’s stomach dipped.
Marti: Logan . . .
Logan: Marti . . .
Marti: Would you be serious?
Logan: I’m being 100% serious.
Marti: But we’re faking.
She slapped her forehead. We’re faking? That was her response?
Logan: So? That means we can’t kiss?
Marti’s heart leapt to her throat. For some reason, the prospect of kissing Logan Love felt dangerous.
She typed nothing back, sitting in silence. The sound of her breath the only thing in the room until another text pinged.
She checked the screen. Another text—his home address.
Marti yelped and clicked her phone off, setting it back on her nightstand like it was on fire.
You’re a complete coward, she admonished herself. You know you want to kiss him.
She laid there, letting her pulse slow to a natural rhythm, when a tiny, insignificant little thought niggled at the back of her mind—she didn’t loathe Logan Love. Not at all. Quite the opposite. And if he were ever really serious about her, she’d be in trouble.