I kind of want to be held, to be honest. But how do I ask for that? What if he turns me down? What if he laughs at me? Logan turns his head and meets my gaze. He looks so fucking earnest. What is life, if we don’t try? “Hold me?” I whisper. He freezes, his eyes widening in shock, and then, without teasing or questioning, he twists and pulls me into his arms and buries his face into my neck. “Thank fuck. God, I love cuddling.”
