CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
LOGAN
“You can’t be serious?” I ask Kayla as soon as she holds up the sweater she bought for us. “It looks like Buddy the elf vomited all over it with his obnoxious Christmas spirit.”
“Hey now.” She points her finger at me and tries to hide the smirk forming on her lips. “No bad talking Buddy. He’s legit.”
Sitting on her bed, I tilt my head back and laugh. “I’m sure he is. But does that mean I have to wear that?” I arch a brow, hoping she changes her mind. Instead, she sticks out her lower lip and pouts.
“But you said we could wear matching sweaters,” she reminds me, giving me her best sad puppy eyes.
Groaning, I brush a hand over my face and give in. “Okay, fine.” I grab her hand and pull her over by me. I grab the sweaters out of her other hand and toss them behind
