I engage in subtle stalking. That's entirely different and perfectly socially acceptable.

The craving to touch her is like an itch I can't scratch.

This girl holds my heart in her hand and she's squishing it to nothing with her confession.

He roars laughing as he raises our conjoined hands to his lips. “Have I told you lately that I love you?”“About ten thousand times.” I smile.“Get used to it, Alma Sadie,” he says, tucking an errant strand of hair back into my elegantly coiffed chignon. “Because I’ll never tire of telling you.

I’m not going to be caught unawares again,” Haydn argues. “Loving her made me weak. Foolish. And it was totally pointless anyway, because she has only ever loved you.

Plastering his hand behind my neck, he pulls my mouth to his. The intensity of the kiss takes me by surprise. I think he’s trying to bury the memory by kissing it out of my mind.

Ignoring the pain is more desirable than confronting it. And that’s survival one-oh-one.

Haydn’s instructions are imprinted on my brain much the same way Logan’s face is imprinted on my heart.

Logan owns my heart, and he always will. Whether he is aware or not. Whether he wants it or not. That much I know with absolute conviction.