CHAPTER 48

  Rebel

  Logan has a password to his computer—of course, he does. I have up trying to get into it. Now I'm lying on his couch, flipping through titles of

  various movies until I hear Logan enter the flat.

  He seems happy.

  I can hear him humming, and then there is a promising rustle of a plastic bag that I bet is filled with ingredients. I wet my lips and look up toward the ceiling, smiling when I see Logan.

  "You were fast," I tell him from my place on the couch. The fan in the ceiling is spinning, and maybe it's made me half-dizzy because I swear Logan looks like a god from here.

  His eyes look so, so dark. I always deemed them brown, but I can tell they are hazel in this light. But they shift depending on the light. I decide that I like them a lot, and the aching in my body agrees.

  Logan is a hottie.

  "You still haven't taken off your hat," he points out, and I can hear the sound of the plastic bag again.