Logan POV “I can’t believe my baby’s gone,” sighs Kate, putting her purple oven mitts on. They match the apron she’s wearing and the bandana in her ponytail. Layla’s Mom is obsessed with the color purple. She pulls out a tray of blueberry muffins from the oven. She likes to cook at my place, because she thinks that the professional chefs at her own house might judge her. “Yeah, I know. So how is she settling in?” I ask, the words coming out too fast. “We called her last night, and it seemed like she was at some party. I’m just worried about her, you know? I don’t trust men these days.” Oliver makes a rough sound from his seat at the coffee table. Me too, buddy, me too. I don’t like the idea of any man even breathing the same air as her. “She started her classes already,” he says, frowning into his bourbon. I take a sip of my own. The warmth coating my throat makes it all feel okay, even if it’s just for the moment. But really though, her parents being as distraught as I am almos
آخر تحديث : 2026-08-27 اقرأ المزيد