Toxic Part Two (Celestra Series Book 7.5) by Addison Moore Page A

be exact.
    I twirl my fingers against Logan’s bare neck and marvel at the way he glows in the early morning light. I suggest Marshall gets used to seeing Logan’s gorgeous face. It’s obvious to me he’ll be my husband one day, my only husband.
    Logan opens his mouth then retracts. Instead, he graces us with a sly smile, so hot, it has the power to inspire every woman on the planet to spontaneously disrobe in his presence.
    Logan taps the side of my arm before rubbing me lovingly.
    I don’t feel so bad that you’re staying with Dudley now that I know you’re planning our wedding .
    Shit. He totally heard that husband comment, so I go with it.
    “Morning, honey.” I dot his cheek with a kiss.
    The vertical dimple I gave him in a fit of rage depresses. I love him like this, resplendent and beautiful with a genuine affection for me pouring from his existence.
    “What’s going on?” He asks.
    “Nothing,” I assure him. “Absolutely nothing.”
    Marshall pulls me back as though I were about to fall from a ledge—funny how he didn’t employ that maneuver yesterday when I actually did fall from a ledge.
    “We’ve just indulged in a wild orgy of a breakfast.” Marshall steps into Logan. “Skyla was in need of nourishment after a long night tucked safe in my arms. Isn’t that right, love?” Marshall ticks his chin up and smiles because, well—he might be telling the truth.
    “Skyla?” Logan doesn’t hide his disapproval.
    “What?” I gag. “I was scared. You would have totally done the same thing if you knew the freaky shit that went down in this house last night.” Of course, if Logan were here, I might have been far more willing to listen to that whole “human life raft” line Marshall tried feeding me by the bulldozer—although it didn’t stop me from clinging to him like one, wrapping my legs around him while trying to stay afloat in the madness. 
    Life raft? Logan pulls me in. Clinging to him with your legs? He cuts a death threat to the Sector in our midst before reverting back to me. “You wanna hang out?” He tightens his grip around my waist as if it’s the only way to keep me safe. “I took the day off.”
    “I sort of have to pack for the Cape.” I thump my fingers over my lips. “Wait, we’re leaving today… It’s the twenty-first! Happy birthday!” I jump up and down and warm a kiss, square over his lips.
    “In that case,” Marshall says, widening the door, “do come in. I have a gift.”
    Logan secures himself to my side as we make our way in.
    Marshall slams the door behind us with the finality of a gunshot and glares.
    “How old are you this fine day?” He seethes into Logan.
    “Eighteen.” Logan is unmoved by Marshall’s terroristic show of bravado.
    “Do you wish to end your days at this tender age?” It comes out more a fact than question.
    “What the hell is wrong with you?” I smack Marshall in the arm. “Logan and I are going to live very long lives. It’s been prophesied.” Albeit from a questionable source.
    “What the hell is wrong with you ?” Marshall towers over Logan.
    I swear, Marshall just grew three feet in his fit of anger, plus he invoked a quasi-expletive, which leads me to believe he is extravagantly pissed at the birthday boy.
    Logan sears Marshall with his hatred. They seem to be traveling in a linear direction with the topic and I’m clueless as to what it might be.
    “Shelf it—I’m not interested in getting into this with you right now.” Logan steps out in a defiant stance.
    “Let’s go for a drive,” I say in an attempt to usher him out of range from Marshall’s fist. “I was thinking about running over to Demetri’s to log a couple hours, not to mention spy on my mother. Did I forget to tell you that she’s shacking up with him now? Oh, and she’s sort of kidnapped Brielle’s baby.”
    Neither of them flinch from their venomous stares. There’s not one note of interest in my mother or baby Beau’s