Page 112 of The Mistake

Then it sinks like a stone. Wait. What if he’s only saying it because I said I lovedhim?

“I’ve been in love with her for a few months now,” he continues, and his husky confession reinflates my heart. “I didn’t tell her because I didn’t want to scare her off by saying it too soon.”

“Dude, you should’ve told her.”

I’m startled by Pace’s earnest response. Touched, even. At least until he finishes that sentence.

“If you say it right off the bat, they drop their panties super-fast. Means you don’t have to put as much work into bagging them.”

“Uh-huh,” Logan says as if he’s in agreement, but I’ve known him long enough to be able to pick up on his sarcasm. “Anyway, this girl…she’s the love of my life. She’s smart and funny and unbelievably compassionate. She forgives people even when they don’t deserve it. She?—”

“Good lay?” Pace interrupts.

“Oh yeah. The best.”

God, my cheeks are on fire now.

“But the sex is just icing,” Logan says softly. “It’s everything else that matters most.”

A shadow crosses my peripheral vision. I turn my head expecting to see Daisy or Morris on the other side of the glass door.

My breath hitches when my gaze locks with Logan’s. He’s on his cell phone, wearing faded jeans and his hockey jacket, and his blue eyes shine with sincerity.

Our esteemed hosts notice him as well, and a gasp echoes in the air.

“Wait—we’ve been talking toJohn Logan?” Evelyn shrieks.

“Wait—you’re talking aboutGretchen?” Pace exclaims, his gaze darting like a Ping-Pong ball from me to Logan.

“No, I’m talking about Grace,” Logan says, smiling at me through the glass. “Grace Elizabeth Ivers. The woman I love.”

I don’t know whether to stand up on my chair and shout out “I love you too,” or hide under the desk in embarrassment. Big, public displays freak me out. If I owned a cloak ofinvisibility, I’d wear it every time a birthday or some other major event rolled around, because I hate, hate,hatebeing the center of attention.

But I can’t tear my eyes off Logan. I can’t breathe, or move, or form a single thought other thanHe loves me.

“Anyway, I’m hanging up now,” Logan tells the hosts. “I’m pretty sure I can take it from here.”

The line cuts off, and I shoot a panicky glance at the switchboard. Shit. The show is still on the air. I’m supposed to put on the next caller.

To my relief, Morris appears, giving Logan a friendly thump on the arm as he hurries into the producer’s booth. “Go,” Morris orders. “I’ll cover the rest of the show.”

“Are you sure?”

He grins. “That was always the plan. Who do you think screened the call, Gretch?” He points to the door. “Go.”

I don’t need to be told twice.

I hurry out of the booth and throw my arms around Logan’s strong shoulders. “I cannot believe you just did that,” I blurt out.

As his laughter tickles the top of my head, his arms slide down to my hips, large hands curling around my waist. “I figured nothing short of a grand gesture would convince you how shitty I feel about what happened earlier.”

I pull back, tipping my head to meet his gorgeous eyes. “You should feel shitty,” I chastise. “I can’t believe you said all that stuff. I don’t plan on ever breaking up with you.”

“Good. Because I’m never breaking up withyou.” He brings one hand to my cheek, stroking it with infinite tenderness. “Actually, I think I’m going to marry you one day.”

Shock jolts through me. “What?”

“One day,” he repeats when he sees my expression. “I mean it, Grace, I’m in this for the long haul. You still have two years left at Briar, and I’ll be in Munsen during that time, but I promise you, I’ll come see you as often as I can. Every available second I have will be yours.” His voice thickens. “I’myours.”

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