Brie

I wake up the next morning curled in Logan’s arms. I doubt we got more than a few hours of sleep, but my mind won’t shut off, and I doubt his has either.

We lay there in silence for several minutes. Logan draws lazy circles on my arm while staring up at the ceiling. I want to ask him what he’s feeling right now. I’ve never seen him this quiet, this at a loss for words.

So, I’m the one who talks instead.

“Do you remember me as a kid?” I ask, and he nods, then shrugs one shoulder.

“I suppose. You’re seven years younger than me, though. You...