Harper stepped out of her father's office with a tight smile plastered on her face, the kind of smile that only existed to mask the sting in her chest. She pressed her lips together until they almost hurt
The words still echoed: Trouble . Disappointed. You make things worse.
She hugged the envelope against her chest, exhaling shakily as she descended the stairs. Her father's disappointment wasn't new — it was practically stitched into their conversations — but this time, it cut deeper because it was true.
Her hand brushed against her mouth without thinking. Heat rushed to her cheeks, and before she could stop herself, she whispered under her breath, "Why did I even kiss him back…?" The memory flared so vividly it burned. His lips, the way the world had blurred, how she'd forgotten to care who was watching. A frustrated groan slipped out, and she shook her head. "Stupid. So, so stupid."
Her steps quickened as if she could outrun the memory. But then — thud.
She slammed into something solid, hard enough that the books tucked under her arm scattered to the floor in a messy sprawl.
"Damn it," she muttered, crouching instantly to gather them up before anyone saw. Her fingers scrambled over the polished floor until a shadow fell across her.
She froze.
Her gaze darted up — and there he was. Logan. Broad-shouldered, calm, unreadable as ever, crouching to scoop up the very books she had dropped.
Her mouth opened, but no words came out. Her throat worked uselessly. Say something, her mind screamed, but she just stared, cheeks betraying her with another hot flush.
He extended one of the books toward her, his fingers brushing hers in the handoff. "Careful," he said, voice low and steady, like the hallway didn't exist, like the world hadn't seen them kiss.
Her heart gave a wild, traitorous thud.
She ducked her head quickly, snatching the book, fumbling to stack the rest against her chest. "Thanks," she managed, barely above a whisper.
For a second, his eyes lingered on her — searching, maybe questioning — and that silence pressed heavier on her than anything her father had said.
Harper clutched the books to her chest as if they were armor, praying her face wasn't as red as it felt. Logan straightened, one brow raised, his lips curving into the faintest smirk.
"What's with the tomato cheeks, Princess?" His tone was teasing, low, the kind of voice that always managed to crawl under her skin.
She groaned loudly,rolling her eyes.
"I'm not—" She turned her face away quickly, hugging the books tighter. "I'm fine."
"Mhm. Sure." He bent slightly, tilting his head to catch her eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching as though he enjoyed watching her fluster. "You always go speechless when you see me, or is this just a new habit?"
Her pulse skipped. "Don't flatter yourself," she snapped, but her voice betrayed her, soft and uneven.
Logan chuckled under his breath, slow and deliberate, as if every sound was designed to taunt her. "Relax, Princess. It's not like I'm gonna kiss you again in the middle of the hallway."
That made her stumble. Her grip on the books tightened, her heart thundering as she stared at him. "Why…" She swallowed hard, forcing the words out. "Why did you even do that in the first place?"
He shrugged, all casual indifference, though his gaze held hers longer than it should have. "It was nothing. Just… something to make them believe."
The words landed like stones in her stomach. Nothing. Just a show. Her lips pressed into a thin line, but the sting of disappointment was harder to hide than she wanted.
"I see," she murmured, forcing herself to look away. The hallway suddenly felt colder.
She started walking, books clutched tight, her steps clipped against the floor. Logan's stride fell into place beside her, quieter than usual, but she could feel his presence like a shadow trailing her. Neither of them spoke at first; the silence stretched, thick with everything unsaid.
Finally, Harper's voice broke through, soft but steady, though it trembled at the edges. "Let's not make it happen again."
The words cut sharper than she realized. She kept her eyes ahead, not daring to look at him, afraid of what she might see on his face.
Logan slowed his pace a fraction, his smirk gone. Something shifted in his chest at the finality in her tone, something he couldn't name but didn't like. His hand flexed at his side as if resisting the urge to stop her.
He said nothing, but as he watched her retreat down the hall, her shoulders squared in forced resolve, he felt the sting too — deeper than he cared to admit.
For the first time in a long while, Logan Hayes couldn't help but feel… hurt.