Candice Woods is not your normal freshman. She's a survivor of a dreadful past that she'll do everything in her power to conceal. Her earthshaking dreams are her motivator, and love is her absolute enemy. Until her life gets turned upside down the m...
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Logan's book is coming soon on Radish! Don't forget to head over there to check out the blurb and add it to your library to be the first to read the upcoming prologue!
And yes, it will be published here too, once Blues is completed!
If you're a fan of Romance and angst, with a speck of Comedy—just like Blues—then you should be pleased with this one.
Nova Rios and Logan Hunter are awaiting you! ___________________ "Two sides twist and then collide You're coming off the guard, I'm coming through, I'm coming through..." My Blue Heaven by Taking Back Sunday
"You.." I drawl slowly, trying to fathom the scene before me, my eyes never stopping perusing the black shirt she's wearing, one I've seen on Dylan before. Actually, I'd never forget something about him, especially if it's something affiliated with his bodacious looks.
"The slut who fucked Dylan?" She asks, raising one eyebrow. "Yeah, that should be me." She eyes my outfit with an assumptive look, not bothering to hide her condescension.
Just before I call her out on it, Dylan emerges from the hallway, dressed in a pair of sweats, matched with a black tee. His eyes immediately fly to where we're standing by the door, her inside, and I'm outside, like an unwanted pariah. His eyes fall on Melissa first, giving her a confused look. "What are you-" He stops dead when he sees me standing outside, his eyes widening slightly with an expression that I don't get to apprehend. "Candice?" He says my name like a poser, advancing to the door.
I remain speechless for a few seconds, trying to think about a felicitous answer. "Uh-" I start, shuffling my feet, and trying to enshroud how pained and broken I am, seeing her like that, in his apartment, while I'm being treated like a hated reject. "I came here to say something, but I guess it doesn't matter. I'll uh- leave now."
"Leave." He doesn't miss a beat, his voice mild and untroubled.
There's a walloping, requisite difference between my relationship with Ethan, and my so-called relationship-ish with Dylan. With Ethan, I was treated like no one important, but I never had a problem with it. I wasn't a woolgatherer with him, entirely convinced that being romantic is not in his nature; that he was a guy who meant business, and not emotions. I thought he wasn't the type of person that would express his feelings freely, which was why I always forgave him for treating me like absolute trash sometimes, always giving him excuses.
With Dylan, the least action he does hurts. It's always something that hits a sore spot. Ethan has done worse things to me, but seeing that girl at Dylan's place, wearing nothing but a piece of clothing that smells of the cologne that I yearn to smell, and then him encouraging me to leave without trying to stop me, without caring even for a second, makes my heart shatter and bleed. It might have something with me being starry-eyed with him, or maybe the amount of emotions I feel for him exceeds the amount I felt for Ethan.
