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I hesitate, and something about the ridiculousness of this situation makes me laugh. Our roles should be reversed. I should be the one breaking rules, driving recklessly, getting into accidents and then begging people not to call my parents. But instead, it’s my feisty, gray-haired grandmother. I laugh again and she cocks her head at me.

“Did you hit your head, hon?”

“No, it’s just…” I shrug. “Were you this bad as a teenager?”

That does make her laugh. “Oh no. I’mmuchworse now.”

Grandma isn’t happy about it, but I call Dad, who promptly calls the police and a tow truck. Dad pulls up behind us just slightly after the police officer arrives, but I don’t ask how much he was speeding to get here.

“Thank god you’re both all right.” He pulls me into a hug and then Grandma.

I almost joke about him cracking one of my ribs because his hug is too tight, but his twitching eye tells me he’s not ready to see the humor in this yet.

The next half hour is a blur as we explain what happened first to the police officer and then again to Dad. When there’s finally a lull, Grandma tugs me away from the others. “Why don’t you see if one of your friends can pick you up? It’s going to be a while until the tow truck driver gets here and finishes with the car. Your dad can take me home.” She raises an eyebrow. “Maybe Logan would give you a ride?”

My stomach tenses. I don’t know the road we’re on, but we were driving in the general direction of his house before the crash. He might not live far from here.

If I call him, I know he’ll come. He’d come even if we were on the other side of town. Or the state. But it feels wrong to tell him we shouldn’t be in contact and then turn around and ask him to drop everything for me.

“He’d want to know you’re okay,” she adds.

I stare at my screen and then text before I second-guess it. Today has been a lot, and he’s the one I want by my side.

His reply is almost immediate, saying he’ll come.

“Eric,” Grandma says to Dad. “One of Quinn’s friends is going to pick her up so she’s not stuck here with us.”

Dad turns from the officer and blinks—clearly too overwhelmed to take in more information. “Do I know the person? Are they going to drive safely?”

“It’s Logan, and yes, he’ll drive safely,” I reply.

He purses his lips. “Okay. That’s probably for the best.” He kisses the top of my head and returns to his conversation.

“Thanks,” I tell her. “But please try not to say anything embarrassing when Logan gets here.”

“When have I ever done that?”

I start ticking off examples on my fingers and she cackles.

Logan arrives before the tow truck, which means he must live even closer than I thought. My heart stutters as he steps down from the cab of his truck and strides toward me, his hands shoved deep in his pockets and his blue eyes warm against the gray surroundings. He’s so handsome that he makes it hard to breathe. Ridiculous wishes come to mind. I want to snuggle up so tightly against his chest that he can zip up his coat with both of us inside it. I want him to kiss me until I can’t form sentences anymore. I want him to keep driving until we’re in a new area code, a new state, a new time zone.

He says hello to my dad and the officer but gasps when he sees the car. “Are you sure you’re both okay?” He grabs my hands and squeezes hard, his eyes wide. My heart does a flip.

“I’m okay. The car looks worse than it was.”

Grandma walks over to us slowly, and Logan takes herelbow to steady her. “How about you? Are you in pain? How’s your head?”

“I’m fine—stop fretting. I suggested you come over to rescue Quinn from all this paperwork, not to worry aboutme.”

Logan glances at me for help.

“It’s okay,” I say with an eye roll. “She’s in her rebellious teenager stage.”

The tow truck arrives then. “Are you sure it’s okay for us to go?” Logan asks. “Will your dad be upset if we leave?”

“He’s too busy to notice.”

“Escape while you can,” Grandma says, and shoos us toward the truck.