Full Strength

Thirty Eight-Lillian❤️‍🩹

        With my towel wrapped tight around me, my heart soared as I crossed my bedroom. There was a dress hanging on the back of my door that was sparkling in the morning sunlight, fragments of silver scattered throughout the pale pink semi-sheer fabric. The sleeves were puffed and off-the-shoulder, meeting a sweetheart neckline. The skirt was short and looked like it would swish when I walked. Carefully, I reached out to touch the hem, hardly daring to believe it was real.

        On my bed was a small stack of boxes. The largest one contained gold sandals, with cords that laced around my feet and ankles. One box contained small gold earrings; another had a thin golden chain with an L pendant. The last box contained a set of gold hair pins, designed with flowers and swirls on the edge. 

        It took me about a half hour to change, do my hair, and put on my jewelry. The entire time my heart was racing. Logan had done all of this just for me. He'd put serious thought into his gifts, his flowers, even the cinnamon pancakes we'd had for breakfast. I knew Graham must've helped him-a lot-but Graham must've looked at Logan like he was a crazy person. All of this, for a girl he wasn't even dating. 

        My heart was thumping wildly as I opened my bedroom door, peering out into the living room. "Logan?" 

        The familiar clumping of his crutches came from the garage. I began wandering in that direction, but he met me halfway in the living room. In a suit and tie, with hair that was still slightly damp but combed neatly, Logan looked amazing. He was all sharp angles and soft romance in one. My face burned; it was almost impossible to believe that this was the same man who'd kissed me in the kitchen less than an hour ago. I would've given anything for him to kiss me again at that moment. 

        He cleared his throat. "You look beautiful," he said in a voice that was too rough and too deep to be his own. It was a voice dripping in both desperation and admiration, paired with the sweeping gaze of his green eyes that seemed to drink in every inch of my skin. Flames touched the sides of my face as I realized that my dress was probably showing more of my skin than he'd ever seen before.

         Logan had picked out this dress for me.

         My eyes widened at the thought. Logan, who was so sweet and gentle and got flustered at the lightest touch, had picked out this dress. This dress, the one that was breathtakingly beautiful and sexy at the same time. Heat washed over me; I was enjoying this version of Logan way too much. The way he was looking at me, with his gaze sharp and his cheeks stained with splotches of pink, had me blushing furiously.

       "You look gorgeous," I said, smiling when he looked flustered. He rubbed the back of his neck, sheepishly saying, "Thank you."

        "So, what are we doing today?" I asked.

        He hesitated. "Would you like to go to the art museum?"

        I bit my lip to keep from smiling. "And how do you know that I like art?" I asked, beaming.

        Logan looked even more embarrassed. "I might have asked Jade, and she said it's one of your favorite places to go," he admitted.

        Standing up on my toes, I kissed his cheek. "You're the best, Logan. Thank you."

        It had been a good six months since I'd taken a trip to the art museum. When we got there, Logan and I had a small debate about his means of getting around. He insisted that it was too much trouble for me to push him in the wheelchair, while I strongly protested that he would get too tired walking through a museum on crutches. Finally, I was forced to use the "I'm your doctor and know what's best for you" card, which was my least favorite card to play when talking to Logan. He sat down and I patted his shoulder, his grumpy look already trying to become a smile.