“Or maybe it just needs the right touch.” Logan is suddenly right behind me, his big hand covering mine on the doorknob and his chest pressed against my back. Right touch, indeed. He presses his other hand flat against the door. “It won’t work,” I tell him, flustered as awareness prickles along my hairline at his nearness and the heat of his body behind me. “You have to know just how to—” With no warning, the door flies open. The momentum sends us both flying right into the tiny vestibule. Logan and I land in a tangle of limbs at the bottom of the steep staircase. I don’t register the pain at
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AWWW HE PROTECTED HER HEADDDDD
