Falling for the Quarterback

{"everyone has their secrets"}

//Edited//

I wake up the next morning not knowing how the fuck I got into my bed. I just assume that I'm too tired to remember because I genuinely don't remember anything after getting onto Logans motorcycle. I guess I just really had a long few days, I probably slept walked into the house.

I get up and take a long hot shower and then do my hygiene and get dressed. When I go to get my phone off the charger, I remember that I forgot to give Logan his shirt back from when he let me borrow it, so I decide I should probably give that back today. I put it in my bag so that I don't forget.

As soon as I leave out the door I also remember that I don't have my car and that it is in fact, still at school.

"Fuck" I mumble frustratingly running my hands over my face.

Now I'm going to be late because I have to take the bus, and I don't even know the schedule because I never take the freaking bus. 

As I go to lock the door, a black Range Rover pulls into the driveway. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion and watch as the window rolls down.

I release a breath of fresh air when I see Logan sitting there with a goofy smile. I've come to prefer this smile a lot more.

I mean I don't prefer it.

But it's nice to look at.

"Need a ride captain?" he reaches over to open the passenger door.

I offer a small smile as I nervously walk over and hop in the car. I've never really seen his car before I've only ever seen his motorcyle since that's what he normally rides to school in.

"Thanks" I say buckling my seat belt. "What happened to your motocyle?" I then ask curiously.

"So you like the motorcycle huh? Most girls do" he smirks.

I roll my eyes. He is so hot and cold. One minute he's being nice but then he goes and says things like that. Things that make him sound like a dick. When I don't answer him he clears his throat and speaks again, this time changing the subject.

"So what days are you free to work on the tree house?" he asks glancing over at me.

"I usually work on Tuesday's, Wednesdays and Thursday's so I'm free on Monday's and on the weekends" I reply.

"So on Monday's and Friday's I'll pick you up for school so you don't have to worry about leaving your car there anymore and we can just go straight to the treehouse. On the weekends I'll pick you up around one"

Sometimes when he speaks he forgets to put a question mark at the end of his sentences.

At least I hope he forgets because I've noticed he likes to demand when he's talking, at least when he's talking to me. He rarely ever asks when it comes to a yes or no question. It's like he thinks he has some kind of authority over me, some kind of power.

Which he absolutely does not.

Or he shouldn't. 

But I guess he does.

Because every time it happens, I don't fight him on it like I should. I should argue with him about it. I should bring up my constitutional rights and I should bring up feminism because I'm pretty sure that plays a role in this.

But I don't.

I don't because I kind of like it, and I hate that I like it.

I hate that while I'm sitting in this seat, after he told me what my year would look like for this project, after he told me when he would pick me up during the week, my vagina decided to get a pulse. I hate that I nodded my head and just told him "that's fine".