Chapter 89
Logan didn't say anything. He just kept pressing on my neck with those skilled hands. I had to admit that his massage was working. The tension in my neck began to ease with every careful press.
"Um… you don't need to keep going. It's fine now," I whispered, barely audible.
However, he didn't hear me. Focused and determined, Logan continued his slow, deliberate motions. I found myself glancing at the shadows cast on the wall.
His profile was strikingly handsome. The sunlight fell on his face, casting a soft silhouette on the wall, sharp and clean, like a work of art. Even the stray strands of his hair fell in perfect arcs.
I lifted my head slightly, watching as the shadow of my own face nestled under his chin. The image before me felt peaceful, almost too perfect.
My heart warmed, a sweetness spreading inside me, as if I had gone back to being 18 again, carefree and full of hope.
For a brief moment, I let myself imagine. What if the first man I'd been drawn to was Logan? A soft,
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