Page 58 of The Star

I huff. “Every look is a good look for me.” He laughs, and we both pull another piece of candy from the bowl. We sit in silence, both eating sweets and staring at the TV.

At some point, Carson got comfortable on my pillows, crossing his legs over one another on my bed. He turns to me. “So, the point of this movie is… what?”

I look at him out of the corner of my eye. “That men ain’t shit.”

He hums between his lips in thought. “Except she has to eat them to survive, so… theyareshit.”

I laugh. “Shechoosesto eat only boys because they’re the worst – you should know this, being a boy and all.” I wave a hand. “It’s symbolic of how men are the worst.”

“Ah.” He nods. “Gotcha.”

I stand up. “I need to wash all this blood off of me, feel free to finish the movie.”

He grabs my hand as I’m passing him, pulling me back a little. “Show me the pictures you took first.”

Laughing, I shake my head. “Absolutely not.”

He holds onto my hand tightly, throwing his leg off the side of the bed so he can stand up and step toward me. “C’mon, Logan. Show me.”

I sigh, rolling my eyes. Without a word, I pull from his grip and walk to my dresser to get my phone. He follows me and looks over my shoulder when I unlock my phone to go to the photo album.

I click on the first one, which is just a close-up picture of my face, my mouth wide as I hiss through my fangs. He grabs the phone from my hand, and I let him, and he starts scrolling.

I don’t look at my phone with him, so I can watch his face. He goes from laughing, to grinning, back to laughing, and then he’s biting onto his lip so hard that my stomach clenches.

“Jesus, Logan,” he breathes as he continues to scroll.

My stomach flips at the desire laced in his tone, and when he flicks his gaze up to mine, my chest tightens. He narrows his eyes, his grip on my phone tight.

Gritting his jaw, his nostrils flare. “Who did you send these to?”

I roll my eyes at him, snatching the phone from his hand. “No one, caveman. Relax.”

I glance at my phone before I lock it, seeing that it’s open on a photo of me on all fours, my hair hanging loose toward the floor as I crawl at the camera. The rips in my bodysuit had grown wider by the time I took pictures, and the way I’m positioned makes it so you can see my bare breasts hanging loose under the material.

“You better not have,” Carson growls, reaching out to stroke a finger down the center of my throat. I step back far enough that his touch falls from my skin, and I swallow roughly at the look in his eyes.

“I’m gonna go take a shower,” I say, looking deep into his eyes to drive my point home.

He licks his lips, pausing for a moment before he takes a step backwards and nods his head at me. He heads for the door without a word, and after he’s pulled it open, he turns to look at me once more. “Happy Halloween, Logan.”

I give him a closed-lipped smile. “You too.”

twenty-eight

LOGAN

After another uneventful and lonely five days of school, the day finally arrives. Wedding weekend.

Sara is rushing around the house, putting the final touches on her wedding plans, and I’m sitting on the couch watching her, offering emotional support.

She storms back into the living room. “Do we think lilies were a bad call? Maybe we should change it to roses.”

“The wedding is tomorrow. I don’t think there’s time to change anything, Sara,” I answer her, watching her pace back and forth.

She shakes her head but doesn’t look at me. “You’re right, you’re right. You have your dress?”

“Yes, it’s at the hotel with everyone else’s.”

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