Page 102 of The Way We Touch

She shakes her head, exhaling a laugh. “I have to get out of bed. I’ve got class, and you have to get back to New York.”

“New York will be fine without me.”

“Maybe, but you’ve worked too hard for TMI to knock you off track, and I’ve met that Ricky guy. He’s gunning for you.” She steps out of the bed then puts her hand on her head, sitting down again. “Damn, what was I thinking last night?”

“You were hurt.” I stand in front of her. “I’m going to do what I can to get them to print a retraction or at least take down that damn photo. It’s going to be hard, but I’ve messaged my lawyer.”

“We’ll just have to deal with it.” She slowly rises to her feet again. “I remember when Jack went through it. He was so upset, and I didn’t really understand. I understand now. It’s brutal.”

“Get back in bed. I’ll bring you some toast. You’ve got time.”

She’s standing right in front of me, and her head only reaches the center of my chest. If anything, what happened has made me more sure than ever this is where I want to be. I want to be with this little firecracker who’s stronger than she knows.

Then she reaches up to touch my face. “About what you said last night…”

“Yeah?” My brow furrows.

“I love you, too, Logan Murphy.”

Her whiskey eyes hold mine, and I cup her face in my hands. I seal my mouth to hers, parting her lips, and we’re lost together in our little paradise.

24

Dylan

“It’s like he got a second wind. He’s playing better ball than he’s played all season.” My brothers sit in their usual spots in front of the big screen televisions in the restaurant, and the crowd for football night has grown.

Ever since the story was published, the community has rallied around us like they always do when a storm hits. It was almost like they saw the big city gossip sites coming after us, and they decided Logan and I needed their help.

We’re a village that faces down life-threatening storms every couple of years, so dealing with a sneaky take-down artist is small potatoes. Even if I’m still embarrassed that photo of me blowing Logan is out there for everyone to see.

Unexpectedly, I’ve had a few of the older ladies give me knowing nods and elbows, like we all share a secret now. The worst was Salina Duck’s mom telling me it’s important to keep your man happy.

“I wanted to die.” I grab Allie by the arm as I hide behind my friendly column. “I was just delivering the leftover Carolina Reaper sauce I made for Oliver that night, remember that?”

It was the same night the little brat finally said I’d made the Dare dish hot enough.

Allie nods, her eyes fixed on the screens above the bar. “Oliver Duck has a crush on you. That’s why he acts the way he does. He’d melt his ass off to get your attention.”

“He’s fifteen.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t take your ballet class. Probably didn’t want you to see him in tights beside Austin and Josh.”

“Well, anyway, I figured he was the only one who’d want that leftover sauce. Then his mom just came on out and started telling me about how when Mr. Duck was going through his midlife crises, the one way she kept him from philandering was with tantric massage.”

My friend’s eyes cut to mine. Mine are wide, and I press my lips together in a grimace.

“Dylan Bradford, that is a visual I did not need in my head.”

“Tell me about it.”

Waldorf Duck is shorter than I am, round, and always sweaty. We both shudder then start to laugh, but it’s short-lived.

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god!” Allie is on her feet jumping up and down.

The guys are all standing as well, and even Austin is jumping around yelling. Logan is making a 50-yard run to the end zone.

We all scream when Garrett goes down, taken out by a defensive lineman.

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