The Mistake(111)

“Gonna stop you right there, broski,” Pace says, rubbing his scruffy beard growth in dismay. “You just threw around a lot of big words. How ’bout you dumb it down for us—I mean, for peeps who might not be good with the English language. Shout out to all our ESL listeners out there!”

A laugh rips out of my throat. Oh, Pace. Never change.

Logan sounds like he’s trying not to laugh as he rephrases himself. “Bottom line? I screwed up. I said some stupid shit I didn’t mean, it pissed her off, and she stormed off.”

Pace sighs. “Bitches be cray.”

“Hey, Logan?” Evelyn drawls.

“Yeah?”

“You sound hot. Are you sure you even want this chick? Because I’m free tonight if you’re interested.”

A strangled cough fills the airwaves. “Um. Uh, thanks for the offer. But yeah, I want her.” He pauses. “I’m in love with her.”

My heart soars like a kite in the wind. He’s in love with me?

Then it sinks like a stone. Wait. What if he’s only saying it because I said I loved him?

“I’ve been in love with her for a few months now,” he continues, and his husky confession re-inflates my heart. “I didn’t tell her because I didn’t want to scare her off by saying it too soon.”

“Dude, you should’ve told her.”

I’m startled by Pace’s earnest response. Touched, even. At least until he finishes that sentence.

“If you say it right off the bat, they drop their panties super-fast. Means you don’t have to put as much work into bagging them.”

“Uh-huh,” Logan says as if he’s in agreement, but I’ve known him long enough to be able to pick up on his sarcasm. “Anyway, this girl…she’s the love of my life. She’s smart and funny and unbelievably compassionate. She forgives people even when they don’t deserve it. She—”

“Good lay?” Pace interrupts.

“Oh yeah. The best.”

God, my cheeks are on fire now.

“But the sex is just icing,” Logan says softly. “It’s everything else that matters most.”

A shadow crosses my peripheral vision. I turn my head expecting to see Daisy or Morris on the other side of the glass door.

My breath hitches when my gaze locks with Logan’s. He’s on his cell phone, wearing faded jeans and his hockey jacket, and his blue eyes shine with sincerity.

Our esteemed hosts notice him as well, and a gasp echoes in the air.

“Wait—we’ve been talking to John Logan?” Evelyn shrieks.

“Wait—you’re talking about Gretchen?” Pace exclaims, his gaze darting like a Ping-Pong ball from me to Logan.

“No, I’m talking about Grace,” Logan says, smiling at me through the glass. “Grace Elizabeth Ivers. The woman I love.”

I don’t know whether to stand up on my chair and shout out “I love you too,” or hide under the desk in embarrassment. Big, public displays freak me out. If I owned a cloak of invisibility, I’d wear it every time a birthday or some other major event rolled around, because I hate, hate, hate being the center of attention.

But I can’t tear my eyes off Logan. I can’t breathe, or move, or form a single thought other than He loves me.

“Anyway, I’m hanging up now,” Logan tells the hosts. “I’m pretty sure I can take it from here.”

The line cuts off, and I shoot a panicky glance at the switchboard. Shit. The show is still on the air. I’m supposed to put on the next caller.

To my relief, Morris appears, giving Logan a friendly thump on the arm as he hurries into the producer’s booth. “Go,” Morris orders. “I’ll cover the rest of the show.”

“Are you sure?”

He grins. “That was always the plan. Who do you think screened the call, Gretch?” He points to the door. “Go.”

I don’t need to be told twice.

I hurry out of the booth and throw my arms around Logan’s strong shoulders. “I cannot believe you just did that,” I blurt out.

As his laughter tickles the top of my head, his arms slide down to my hips, large hands curling around my waist. “I figured nothing short of a grand gesture would convince you how shitty I feel about what happened earlier.”

I pull back, tipping my head to meet his gorgeous eyes. “You should feel shitty,” I chastise. “I can’t believe you said all that stuff. I don’t plan on ever breaking up with you.”