I Hate Football Players

42: Lost Inhibition

Darker forms of doubt swirled behind the scenes of my light teasing. Another time in my life when I was cursed being Jake's sister.

Some part of me, which I hadn't wrapped my brain around Logan's trifecta description expressed in the order 'hot, virgin, unattainable Jake's sister.' The first two associations weren't my brother, for once, although virgin wasn't flattering either. I wasn't ashamed of being one, particularly given how my first physical experience with a guy ended. No one should feel violated and worthless.

The only, only reason I still sat here with Logan was the tortured look in his eyes and the way he squirmed when he explained what happened to him. His cocky arrogance was stripped away to reveal he was embarrassed and genuinely sorry. Did I trust him? I wanted to. He deserved a chance to prove himself, and it sounded like a stupid misunderstanding on the surface. Although it continued as long as we'd known each other, the repercussions could be as damaging as the last time my school harassed me. How he dealt with the misunderstanding was more important than correcting it into nonexistence. One of our reputations would take the hit. My blood pressure rose at the possibility of becoming social collateral, possibly a laughing stock at another high school, as Logan's 'stud' status elevated to the top of his team. Bros before hoes.

"If that's what you want." Logan's eyes shone, and an upwards twitch tugged on his lips. My heart thumped at the proximity of his hand behind me, his broad chest close to my left shoulder.

My version of stubbornness was quieter than his, but I appreciated this lighter side of Logan. "Stop picturing me naked." I narrowed my eyes in a pretended glare. Had the water not been freezing, I might've been tempted to see the muscular form under his loose T-shirt.

"Guy can dream, Ellie." My lips parted at his candid admission, and he shifted his eyes from mine to the ocean. "But it's probably too cold. Plus, I don't trust you not to steal all my clothes."

"What would I do with your clothes?" I looked down at my 'Lit First' sweatshirt. Two sides too large, it was so warm and snuggly, like soft fuzz hugged around me.

Logan's eyes glimmered like the water on the wave crests. "No idea. I didn't get past your motives for getting me naked yet."

I giggled. He said the weirdest things. I wasn't against swiping one of his sweatshirts, except I'd never seen him wear one.

A gorgeous sunset glowed beyond the water. The beach was deserted, with no signs of activity near the usual bonfire pits. A cool breeze blew and lapped the waves in a steady, rhythmic pace onto the shore about twenty feet ahead of us. "It's pretty tonight." I pointed with my gaze. The water was a brilliant shade of aquamarine against bold orange and yellow bursts that streaked around a dark reddish-orange sun. The sand was cool and slightly damp to the touch as we ate in silence. Our height difference was laughable, only a little less severe when we sat down, but our conversation flowed like the constant salty breeze and as consistent as the crashing waves.

The relaxed version of Logan, his shoulders and chest bounced and his mouth opened with deep laughs –true, hearty ones, not the amused chuckling at my expense that he also offered– became my favorite version of him. The sunset painted his fair skin golden, and shadows etched the definition of his biceps and shoulders from the simple action of lifting a very sad lettuce bun burger to his mouth.

We shredded through one conversation topic after another, starting with questions oddly similar to the ones Brody asked me. I think he tried to check my consistency, even though he joked he wanted to know from the direct source. He was so fucking easy to talk to, warm and carefree without his cocky filter engaged. The comfort and ease in our conversation were both relaxing and scary. I never expected to feel like I could open up and reveal anything about myself or that I'd known him longer, but our admissions flowed as easily as the early evening breeze.