John Logan was used to being wanted.
He laughed, hollow. “Grace? Yeah, I figured that one out.” The Mistake Vk Elle Kennedy
Logan’s hand moved before his brain caught up. He caught her wrist. Gentle. Just enough to stop her. John Logan was used to being wanted
How had he missed it?
Romi had always been there. On the sidelines of his games. In the kitchen at 2 a.m., making him grilled cheese after a bad loss. Rolling her eyes at his terrible jokes but laughing anyway. Yeah, I figured that one out
Not in the way his best friend Dean was—all swagger and sharp grins, collecting hookups like hockey trophies. No, Logan was the quiet kind of wanted. The steady boyfriend. The guy you brought home to your parents after the bad boys had their fun.
Or so he kept telling himself.