“Pretty good?” Candace arches a perfect eyebrow. “You had no idea you were dancing on the edge of a celestial war, completely unaware that half your classmates weren’t human. I’d say ignorance made for excellent bliss.”
Logan huffs a little laugh. “Says the woman who orchestrated half of it.”
“Only half?” Candace presses a hand to her chest in mock offense. “Are you suggesting I’m losing my touch?”
“I wouldn’t dare,” he counters.
I shake my head at him. “Do not egg her on,” I warn. “My mother makes nuclear weapons look like party favors.” A laugh gets caught in my throat as I spot something near the fireplace that makes my heart stop beating, and all laughter has just been taken off the table.
I suck in a quick breath as I take in the scene. “So it’sthisnight,” I say lower than a whisper.
Logan sits by the fire, and next to him is Michelle Miller with her curtain of glossy brown hair falling forward as she leans inclose in an effort to seduce him. Even from here, I can see the calculating seduction in her eyes, the way she positions her bronzed body to maximize her bestassets, AKA those boobs she’ll spend the better half of the next decade tossing at anyone who glances her way. I’ve caught them accidentally a few times myself, and not only are they the real deal, they’re infuriatingly perky.
Michelle has always wanted Logan with the single-minded determination of someone who collects hot Oliver trophies rather than relationships. She definitely looks hot herself in that slutty way that made high school boys stupid—all big brown eyes and the kind of curves that seemed designed to make guys forget their own names. And by the looks of it, Logan Oliver wasn’t immune to her obvious charms.
Logan follows my gaze and lets out a long-suffering groan. “Oh geez.”
“What night is this?” Candace asks with a tone that I’m positive is feigning innocence. Candace Messenger is a lot of things, but she is not a good actress.
I don’t answer; I’m too busy watching my younger self across the room, scoping out the fireplace scene with enough anguish to fuel a nuclear reactor.
“It’s the night of the diary,” Logan confirms, wincing as if the words themselves cause him physical pain.
It’s the night Logan locked lips with Michelle Miller, but Chloe’s infamous diary was also a key player here, so props to Logan for adding the lube.
We watch as this past version of me stands withpastGage, both of us fixated on Logan and Michelle as they canoodle by the fire like only teenagers can.
I remember this moment with crystal clarity—the jealousy burning in my chest, the confusion over why Logan would choose her company over mine, the sting of seeing his hands on her. And honestly, it still stings despite the fact that we’ve moved so far past this, Michelle’s perfectly perky C-cup boobs are just a blip on the screen.
“I can’t stand watching him with Michelle,” the old me growls to Gage, the words carrying over to us despite the music. “Why does he care so much about a stupid diary when it hurts me?”
Logan stiffens. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”
“That was kind of the problem with us back then,” I say with a sigh. “We didn’t tell each other anything important, and that led to everything important imploding spectacularly.”
We watch as Gage follows me like a shadow, his eyes never leaving mine, even as I stare daggers at Logan and Michelle. The naked adoration on Gage Oliver’s face makes my chest ache for how simple things seemed back then. How pure everything was—heck, even our hatred.
“You know he’s just using her, right?” The old me nods to where Michelle has wrapped her arms around Logan’s midsection, his hand casually stroking her neck. “He’s just listening in,” past me insists. The desperate edge in my voice is painfully obvious from this vantage point.
Gage, however, doesn’t look convinced. And believe me, his jealousy is as evident as my own.
“I would never do that to you,” he says with a sincerity that cuts through time.
There’s something desperate in his tone, and I wholeheartedly believed him. I still do.
“Why does he want this diary so bad, anyway?” past me whispers, and I almost can’t stand to watch myself unravel at the seams like this.
Gage winces. “He thinks it has some vital piece of information.”
“To what? Finding her killers?”
As in finding Chloe Bishop’s killers. Honestly, I should have been greedy with my Celestra blood and withheld it from Dr. Oliver when he asked to milk me for my lifeline. I should have penned the counts who killed Chloe a thank you. But I’d never say any of that out loud.
“I heard,” my mother says.
“Me, too.” Logan gives my hand a squeeze, and I wince a little.
“Would you believe that Chloe and I are actually friends now?”
