I tried to swallow the words as they were coming out, but couldn’t stop them. My head shot up. “I’m sorry, Logan, I didn’t mean?—”
“It’s good.”
“It’s not good. You told me what happened, and then I put you right back in that box.” I lifted the half-disassembled cardboard next to me for emphasis.
Logan’s mouth twitched like he was hiding a smile. “Well. I guess you’re just a terrible person.”
“This has already been established.”
Logan looked like he was going to say something, but didn’t. He picked up the broom and moved to my side of the room. “So. Rules.”
Right. I was more than glad for the change of subject until I remembered what had distracted us. If Logan’s mom had put this whole thing into place so Logan would be held accountable, could I still avoid taking photos without causing a problem?
My heart started to race. Every time Logan was in the press, it was blasted across Douglas U. I couldn’t be in a picture with him without the entire campus finding out. “I don’t want to do photos.”
He nodded. “Okay. What are we going to say?”
“That I believe cameras steal souls?”
Logan blinked. “You’re going to pretend to be Indigenous?”
“Or Amish.” Either way, it sounded bad when I said it out loud. “Okay, maybe not. How about that I’m super insecure and have body image issues.”
Logan made a sound in his throat. “You have pink hair, Crystal. Not the choice you’d make if you wanted to blend into the background.”
“Maybe I’m overcompensating. And besides, artists are always odd ducks. I could be expressing myself only for me, you know? This isn’t for other people.” I gestured at my highlights.
Logan laughed. “Where do you even come up with that?”
I tapped my head. “It gets weird in here. You’re lucky I have a filter.”
“Not good enough to keep the Logan insults at bay.”
I flinched. “I said I was sorry!”
“Kidding, it’s fine.”
He pushed the broom, and dirt clouded between us. I coughed and stepped back, waiting for it to settle.
“Okay, no photos. What else?”
“No touching. Unless we absolutely have to.” I moved to the other side of the mountain and started there.
“Why would we have to?” Logan waggled an eyebrow.
“You’re impossible.” His grin only widened, and a thought hit me square in the chest. Was this how he was with Shar? I thought back to every moment at Ranchman’s. Logan was larger than life, but was his attention ever on her like this? Maybe it was like this in the beginning. His charm was turned up to the max, and then once they were together—once he’d gotten what he wanted—he didn’t have to try so hard.
“You okay?” Logan paused his sweeping.
I waved him off. “Oh, yeah. Just a brain fart.”
He didn’t seem convinced, but I ignored him and started in on a box that must’ve held a refrigerator. “We might have to touch if we’re walking somewhere together or we’re sitting beside each other for a long time. To make it look realistic.”
“Got it. So you’re talking an arm around the shoulder or holding hands?”
I cringed. “Who holds hands?”
“Wow. Jake from Vancouver must’ve been a real romantic.”
