In his nervousness, Logan touched a hand to it, a hand with bruised and swollen knuckles. He sighed and made a noise with his lips like a huff of exasperation.
“Sorry,” Hana said, biting her lip with remorse. “I didn’t mean to stare.”
Logan’s face clouded with contrition. His fingers rested close to hers on the table. “No, don’t worry. It hurt when I laughed at your rat story. The doctor stitched the inside of my lip and you’re funny. Anyone ever told you that?”
Hana bit her lip and shook her head. “Stupid, dumb, an i***t. Never funny.”
Logan narrowed his eyes and hid his surprise. His irises shifted colour, from a gentle grey to the colour of grit. “You’re none of those things,” he replied. His soft tone resonated somewhere deep inside Hana’s soul. She felt the overwhelming déjà vu st
