“God,” I murmur. “I don’t want to feel like I’m dying if my boyfriend isn’t with me.” Sudden panic scorches me, and I waft my sequined pink sweater. “I think I lied to him last night.” “Wait, what?” “I told Thatcher that I’d rather survive with him than without him, and sitting here, talking to you, I know that I’d rather be able to survive on my own more than anything else.” Yet, my throat closes like that’s not entirely truthful either, and my cheeks crinkle in a wince. “I’m not being logical, am I?” He hugs my shoulders with a tough arm. “I don’t know if there’s a lot of logic in love.”
...more
