Ella
With my evening of pizza and true crime shows having been abruptly shattered by Logan’s obnoxious honking outside, I sighed and leaned on the balcony railing. There he was, sitting in his red convertible with a sheepish grin on his face.
“Wanna go for a joyride?” he called up to me, the grin on his face only widening even more.
I raised an eyebrow and frowned down at him. “A joyride, Logan? Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously,” he replied as he climbed out of the car. “It’ll be fun.”
I paused for a moment, glancing down at my clothes. I had only just gotten home from work less than twenty minutes ago, and was already in my sweatpants and hoodie. My hair was pulled up into a messy bun on top of my head, and my makeup was smudged. Not to mention the uneaten, greasy pizza tha
