Shifting Boundaries
The next day at school felt like walking into a minefield. Every hallway seemed to buzz with whispers, heads turning as I passed. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the kiss at the party or just my own paranoia, but either way, I could feel the weight of their stares.
And then there was Logan.
I spotted him leaning against the lockers, that effortless bad-boy charm radiating off him like a second skin. His dark hair was tousled like he hadn’t bothered to run a brush through it, and his grin was just sharp enough to make me wary.
“Hey, Em,” he called out as I approached, his voice warm and teasing.
“Hey,” I muttered, keeping my head down.
I tried to walk past him, but he stepped in front of me, blocking my path. “Whoa, whoa, what’s the rush?”
“I have class,” I said, trying to sound annoyed, but the heat rushing to my cheeks betrayed me.
Logan tilted his head, his smirk widening. “Funny, you’ve never cared about being on time before.”
My gaze flicked to his, and that was my first mistake. His eyes were on me, full of mischief and something deeper, something that made my pulse stutter.
“What’s going on with you?” he asked, his tone softening just a fraction.
“Nothing,” I said quickly, stepping around him.
Logan didn’t follow, but I could feel his eyes on my back as I hurried down the hall.
***
By lunchtime, I was a mess. I had spent the entire morning replaying the kiss in my head, trying to analyze every detail, every flicker of emotion I’d seen in Logan’s eyes. But no amount of overthinking could prepare me for how he acted.
Logan wasn’t giving me space—far from it. He sat next to me in the cafeteria, his shoulder brushing mine, his leg casually pressed against mine under the table. Every accidental touch sent little jolts of electricity through my skin, and I hated how easily he got under my defenses.
“You’re quiet today,” he said, leaning close so his voice was just for me.
“I’m always quiet,” I muttered, focusing on my tray.
Logan chuckled. “Not with me.”
My throat tightened, but before I could respond, Vanessa strutted over, her heels clicking against the tile. She slid into the seat across from us, her gaze flicking between me and Logan.
“Logan, there you are,” she said, her voice honey-sweet but sharp underneath. “I’ve been looking for you all morning.”
He didn’t even glance at her. “I’ve been here.”
Vanessa’s smile faltered, her eyes narrowing as they landed on me. “You’re awfully cozy, Emma.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but Logan beat me to it. “Relax, Vanessa. We’re just friends.”
Friends. The word hit me harder than I expected, even though I knew it was true.
***
By the end of the day, I’d managed to avoid Logan entirely. Or at least, I thought I had.
I was pulling books from my locker when I felt him behind me. His presence was unmistakable, all warmth and intensity that made my pulse race.
“Logan, what—”
I turned, and suddenly he was right there, his hands braced against the locker on either side of me, caging me in.
“Why are you avoiding me?” he asked, his voice low.
“I’m not,” I lied, though my flushed cheeks probably gave me away.
His eyes searched mine, his smirk softening into something more serious. “You’ve been weird all day. Is this about the party?”
I swallowed hard, my thoughts tangling. “It didn’t mean anything,” I blurted out.
Logan’s brow arched, and his smirk returned, sharper this time. “Didn’t it?”
I hated how easily he could unravel me. I hated even more how much I wanted him to keep doing it.
“Logan—”
He leaned in, his lips a whisper away from mine, his breath warm against my skin. “I’m not stopping,” he murmured, “until you tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”
