I Hate Football Players 3 | 18+

Chapter 21: Ellie

After he dropped the eggs into the now boiling water, I turned my attention away from Logan when he opened the fridge. I set up a quick assembly line of a breadcrumb mixture, eggs, and thin chicken breasts. Once I dipped and coated each one, I put them into the InstaPot and covered them with some of Mom's jarred sauce. With a sigh, I pulled out a block of mozzarella cheese from the fridge, grabbed my hand shredder, and, once I had a small cheese pile, I topped the chicken with it and set the timer for twenty minutes.

"So..." Logan started from the sink while I grabbed the broccoli out of the fridge, another pot, and my hand strainer. "How did you meet Charlie?"

"We were paired up as roommates freshman year," I replied. My hip brushed against Logan's while I stuck my pot under the running water, then rinsed off the broccoli. "Guess it was our majors but we got along really well."

"Stuck with Nutrition Science, huh?" he asked and patted the zucchini dry on the handful of paper towels I handed him.

"I did," I murmured while I set up the pan on the other stove's burner with the metal strainer, then dumped in broccoli pieces as I broke them off. Once the broccoli bunch was a bunch of stems, I tossed that on top and put the lid over it. While I hated the stem, I figured I'd blend it down into one of Logan's smoothies and he'd complain about it later.

"It fits you," Logan's words cut through my absent-minded actions. Since Logan was on noodles, I assembled all the other dry ingredients for his protein powder into the blender, set it aside, then put everything for that back in the cabinets.

"Thanks," I said from my kneeling position on the counters, then jumped down to the sound of Logan's chuckles.

"You going to show me how to do this?" He pointed a zucchini at the mandolin.

"Sure." I stepped over, guided Logan's left hand to hold the slicer over an empty plate, pressed my hand on the outside of his right hand, and guided the zucchini against the blade. Before he touched it, I pushed a button and the blades popped up. "See these?"

"Yeah," he replied with a thread of uncertainty in his voice.

"Be careful." I hit the button and retracted the blades, then moved his hand in a back and forth motion with the lengthwise zucchini parallel to the slicer. "Slide it back and forth a few times, the noodles will fall onto the plate."

I nodded at the three zucchinis he'd set on the counter. "Make all of them, we'll eat them in other meals."

"Got it, boss." He grinned at me then slowly sliced up the first one while I watched. All his fingers stayed intact, so I just nodded and went back to my food. The broccoli and boiled eggs were done so I shut off the stove burners, drained both their pots, then dumped the eggs into some ice water. After I topped the broccoli with some butter and parmesan cheese, I covered them with a towel so they stayed warm.

I'd just unplugged and opened the InstaPot with some really good-smelling chicken parm when a string of curse words erupted next to me.

"Fuck!" To my horror, Logan lifted up a very bloody right hand. By the two red streams that trailed down his hand, he'd nicked his index and middle fingers.

Shit, right hand is his throwing hand.

"Oh my gawd!" My fingers trembled while my eyes tracked his movements over to the sink. Thankfully, he cupped his other hand underneath so the blood stayed on his hands. My face felt the life drained out of it but a quick glance showed that he hadn't bled on the counters or noodles.

My next choice of words were absolutely no help in this situation. "You cut yourself, Logan!"

"Sure did." He actually just chuckled but winced at the sight of his hand. "Death machine."