"So proud of you, girl." Monique's palm squeezed my shoulder tightly, then her other hand's index finger wiped a pretend tear out of her eye while we watched as the gleaming, silver Huskies' team bus exited the parking lot. "So proud."
"What?" I dropped my raised waving hand to my side, but kept the other hugged around her hip.
"You." Her smile couldn't have gotten wider. "Plural you. Freshly fucked looks good on you two."
My jaw nearly dropped onto the parking lot pavement.
She did not just say... she did.
"Don't look so surprised." Her eyes shifted sideways at me while we walked over her car. "Cupid struck deep. Hearts in your eyes, glow in your skin, you haven't stopped smiling or blushing, and a dumbass, smug grin on his face... Need any more proof?"
My lips parted but she continued, "And don't think I didn't notice that ass squeeze."
"Oh," I muttered quietly and dropped my hand from around her. "Nothing gets past you."
"Nope." Her black hair swung as she shook her head. "Spill the tea girl. And by tea I need the whole damn tea party of details that led up to you having a ring around your neck."
My chin tucked into my chest while I dropped my eyes downward and saw I'd left my ring outside my shirt. "How about I tell you during the pregame?"
"Of course," she replied and released her grip on me. "Yours or mine?"
"Yours," I offered with a grin.
"Perfect." Her lips parted into a beautiful smile, then she gave me a quick hand wave and headed to her car. "You bring your carbs, I'll bring mine."
Two hours later, I walked through the grocery store aisles alone. Logan had left his Husky card behind, which I'd assured him was completely unnecessary, but he insisted I used it for the groceries. So I picked up all the usual items, fresh fruits and vegetables, notably cauliflower, meats, and eggs along with some items from my 'Fall Food ideas' blog.
Since we were in Washington, I couldn't not pick up two gigantic bags of red apples for the spiced apples I'd loved in the fall. I wasn't a pumpkin spice fan but cinnamon was one of my favorite flavors.
While Logan was nowhere in sight, I definitely caught the attention of a few strangers in the grocery store. No one approached me but a few fixed glances and stares were cast in my direction, which I returned with as polite of a smile or wave as I mustered.
Weird.
Prior to the grocery story trip, I'd made a quick drive downtown Seattle to pick up a couple of special food items. My first pickup was the smallest fresh salmon Pike Market had, and asked that they filet-cut it for me. I wasn't as much of a fan of oysters but Monique was, so I bought a small number of those as well.
The thirty minutes I stood in line at Beecher's, a Seattle-based café, was completely worth the wait when I left with a bag full of their homemade gruyere, cheddar, mozzarella, and parmesan cheese. Charlie and I found this place while we explored the restaurants near the piers our sophomore year and, after just one lunch, we were both hooked.
While Darrius also followed a low-carb diet, Monique and I started a tradition where we carb-loaded during the away games. Seattle was known for its seafood, most of which Logan hated, so I'd planned a salmon macaroni and cheese and cinnamon apples for my part, while Monique set up the 'appetizer carbs,' whatever she decided on for today.
My birth control schedule suggested this week wasn't the best time of the month for a carb-bloat marathon, although we both always enjoyed the post-crash nap afterwards, but we couldn't control the away game schedule. So while my 'cheese with a side of salmon and macaroni' baked in the oven, I peeled and cut up apple after apple until all twenty were in sixteen pieces each, mixed up a bowl of fall spices that included cinnamon into brown sugar, stirred it into the apples, then put them into the oven.
I didn't have much content for a blog idea this week, so I just took pictures of my game day foods then posted them with the recipes attached. Within ten minutes, our apartment smelled better than any cinnamon candle I'd ever smelled and, for Logan's sake, overpowered the cheesy, fishy smell from the macaroni and cheese.
With most of the day still left open before I headed to Monique's apartment for the five pm pre-game show, I assumed Logan's late return meant he slept in tomorrow, then recovered for the next week. I had another tutoring appointment with Kade tomorrow afternoon in the library plus my own homework, studying, and two term papers, so I spent the rest of my free time today in the kitchen, where I cooked and set up our meals for the entire week.
Seattle's rainy fall weather gave me cravings for soups, so I started pots of broccoli cheddar, tomato bisque, and butternut, pumpkin, and acorn squash. Since all of the soups' calorie levels were too low for Logan unless he ate the entire pot, I bagged half of the soups for the freezer and stored the rest in the fridge for me.
For Logan, I went simple and predictable - pot roast and vegetables in the crock pot, chicken parm and steamed broccoli in the InstaPot, two roaster chickens in the oven once it was free, smoothie after smoothie through the blender, and baked a giant package of bacon. I still hadn't gotten used to the amount of food he ate and felt like I cooked for a family instead of one person.
He said it best, he is kinda like my family.
My fingers were tired by the time I'd cut up all the fresh strawberries, peaches, plums, and pears I'd bought and stored them in the fridge. The pads and heels of my sock-covered feet also throbbed with dull aches by the time I slid six days' worth of breakfast burritos, smoothies, and granola bars into the freezer, then a pre-made oatmeal bake in the fridge for tomorrow's breakfast.
"Hope you like it, Logan," I muttered and shut the freezer door. "Not much variety from last week, sorry but I assume you're home pretty late."
As if Logan knew I thought about him, my phone chimed with a text message from him.
Logan: ESPN interviewed me for the pregame show.
me: Sweet! We'll watch it then.
Logan: Rachel Sorenson wants to interview us in 2 weeks.
I stared down at his text with wide, unblinking eyes. Rachel Sorenson was an ESPN College Game Day news correspondent who interviewed players before and during both the season and NFL draft. Occasionally she did more in-depth, personal interviews with players and their families.
And Jake thinks she's hot.
me: Us like... The Huskies?
Logan: Nope. You and me.
"Huh," I grumbled at my phone because I had no idea why any interest existed about me in relation to college football.
me: Why???
Logan: Special interest story before the USC game.
Logan: You know... Rival QB's, girlfriend thing.
At Logan's response, I stepped back from my phone on the counter for a moment, slid my eyes closed, and crossed my arms over my chest. Both Jake and Logan were complete pros during pre- and post-game interviews, when asked about the game or their personal lives. Both consistently gave their unique response each time, repeated over and over.
Since freshman year, Jake had strings of short-term girlfriends that I hadn't paid any attention to because they never lasted more than a few weeks. From a brief glance from the girls who tagged his social media pages, other than the obvious fact all of them had been blonde with blue eyes and boobs displayed in every picture, I couldn't tell any of them apart. For appearances, Jake always answered in interviews that he was single.
Jake hadn't sounded enthused once during our short conversation when he'd asked me if Logan and I were back together again. But, to his credit, he had said he wished I was happy and that Logan treated me well like I deserved, then cut our call short.
While I largely ignored Jake's televised interviews, I definitely sat on the edge of my seat during any of Logan's that I saw. Every time he was asked if he had a girlfriend, he just smiled faintly, shook his head, then answered he was focused on football and school.
For me personally, while the 'rival quarterback dating sister' story angle as a game attention grab was completely fine, I wasn't sure if I agreed to Rachel's interview then I also silently granted reporters permission as they dug deep into our personal lives. And in that department, other than some questionable treatment of girls in high school, Logan's slate was completely clean while mine was a hot mess.
The Zeta thing would be embarrassing and looks worse for them, but would they find anything on the NDA?
At my hesitation, Logan sent me another message.
Logan: It's okay if you don't want to.
me: Can we talk about it when you get home?
Thankfully, Logan seemed as understanding as always.
Logan: 👍 Of course. Gotta go.
me: Good luck!! ❤️
Logan: ❤️
The heart emojis stared up at me, bursts of red against the white background of my text messages. A sense of disappointment stirred in me the longer I gazed down at them.
Logan had comfortably admitted that he loved me, more than once but most recently while we had sex. While Harper was right, I'd gotten emotional after the first time, the three words I'd wanted reciprocated had gotten strangled within the back of my throat every time I'd tried to say them. Logan had assured me that he was fine that I hadn't said them but it bothered me. A lot.
Maybe if I do the interview then he'll know how important he is to me, how committed I am to make this work.
With that thought, I emailed Mr. Reynolds, our family attorney for all things Ryder-related.
At the least, maybe he can approve their questions in advance.
Once I emailed Harper's Dad about a possible ESPN interview, I was reminded of another call I hadn't yet answered. I walked into the bedroom and stopped right in the doorway at what Logan had left on the bed, a brand-new, purple, number ten Huskies jersey with 'Hightower' on the back.
"Aww... Extra small, thanks Logan," I mumbled to myself, slipped it on over my head, then picked up my phone.
me: Thanks for the jersey! Wearing it now.
I hadn't expected a response from Logan and was surprised when he sent one.
Logan: Is that all you're wearing?
"Shameless." I smiled down at my phone, then sent him a response I figured he liked.
me: Win the game and it will be.
Logan: 👍
Since Logan actually needed less distractions before his game, I dialed Harper's number.
"You'd better have an update for me, Ellie," she greeted me as usual without a 'hello,' but surprised me when she asked, "Are you okay?"
"I'm good, thanks," I assured her. "Sorry I'm just now calling."
"I assumed your phones were off. Normally I'd say it's fine but Jake contacted me if I knew anything about you and Logan swapping bodily fluids," she replied dryly. "I told him I knew just as much as what was my own fucking business, but my ear is still bleeding from hearing his voice again."
"Sorry about Jake." I bit my lower lips and suppressed the smile that threatened to ruin her sour mood. "We were... yeah. Thanks for the advice."
"You repeated it in your head while Adonis drilled into you, didn't you," Harper stated, not asked. "And because I forgot, make sure you pee post-sex so you're less likely to end up with a UTI. Condoms are a total bitch for that."
My smile faded slightly at the thought of a urinary tract infection, but her voice sounded absent of her normal sarcastic teasing. She also wasn't wrong, but I still giggled. "How do you know I didn't drill him?"
"Not for your first time," she replied in the same soft, flat voice with a sigh. "But I'm happy for you, Ellie."
"Are you... All right?" I leaned against the kitchen counters and frowned since Harper sounded nothing tired, almost defeated, and nothing like her normal crass, sarcastic self. "You seem a bit off."
"It's Dad." My phone buzzed with static when she sighed again. "He's decided that I'm done with Cabrillo. So if I don't figure out what I want to do, then he's making me work an internship in the spring semester. Got it all lined up, paper pushing for the county's attorney general's office."
"Oh wow." My jaw dropped. "Is that... What you want?"
"I don't know what the fuck I want," she groaned. "But apparently he's decided that he'll be better off here by himself. He hasn't dated anyone in like three years, since he thankfully kicked Carol to the curb, but looks like it's my turn now."
"Do you want him to date?" I frowned since Harper hadn't been a fan of that idea, well, ever.
"Nope," she admitted. "I just wish Dad wasn't completely alone, all he does is work and eat take-out."
"Maybe he'll change his mind once you leave?" I offered, but was only answered by complete silence. "Where are you going?'
"No idea, thought I'd know by now what the hell I wanted to do." She sighed again. "But he's right. I have to get out, it's time."
Uneasiness stirred inside me, since she sounded nothing like her usual self, but her dad also wasn't usually one who put pressure on her about anything. "You still have some time to figure it out, you both do."
"Sure." By her dry tone of voice, she didn't believe me. "There's probably a better chance your dickhead brother and I are friends right now than me figuring out my entire life's purpose at this point."
"You never know," I teased. "It could hit you, like divine intervention."
"Fuck, let me go before this gets mushy and weird," she scoffed lightly, then we said our goodbyes.
I looked down at my phone after we hung up and, like a few of our conversations, hated the distance between us. While I couldn't have given any more advice in person, I felt helpless in how I could support her.
My eyes shifted towards a few of the leftover plates that still sat on the kitchen counters. I cleaned up all of my messes, washed the dishes, then left the cooking stuff on the counters to dry. With a quick check of the time, I realized I had enough for one quick stop before Monique and I carb-loaded ourselves into oblivion.
While out on my errands, I'd considered stopping by the football house to check up on Emmitt but I wasn't stupid. The small interest photo-snappers outside our apartment building had only gotten bigger before today's game. An image of me as I walked, alone, up to the football house when only Emmitt was there, then left wasn't one that I normally cared about but now I did because of how it looked for Logan's sake.
Guess we're flushing anonymity down the toilet.
So instead, I'd planned that visit with Logan, Wes, and Charlie for tomorrow, and walked straight to the library. As expected for a late Saturday before a football game, the library was filled with mostly tourists and, based on my best guess from their ages, a few graduate students.
I hadn't seen James since our disaster of a night and I felt slightly bad about the flowers I'd tossed into his face but we needed things cleared up before work got awkward. My heart thumped slightly faster the more I walked through the library entrance, past the first-floor study tables and book stacks, towards the information desk.
James sat behind the desk next to Sarah. Both of them wore UW T-shirts, his gray and hers purple. Her short, platinum blonde hair was spiked up in the front with gel as she and James laughed loudly together, their shoulders bounced and heads tipped back.
My feet pushed me forwards despite the annoyance that chewed in my stomach at the sight of James again, how he laughed like nothing bothered him. While I walked straight up to the desk, I caught the tail of a conversation that I almost wished I hadn't.
"I seriously thought he was going to rip me apart," James said between loud laughs while his hands clutched under his ribs.
"What's so funny?" I rested my elbows on the desk and cupped my palms around them.
"Just talking about your Neanderthal of a roommate," he replied and took a few breaths until his laughs subsided.
"Logan?" I lifted myself upright and stared at him.
"Yeah." His smile faded into a slight frown. "He's a bit of a caveman, Ellie."
What the hell!? Is he seriously dissing Logan right now?
Oh no.
"He was just being protective," I defended him. "You kissed me without consent, James."
"Left that part out," Sarah muttered quietly.
"He was being an ass," James corrected me as the corners of his mouth turned down and brown eyes narrowed at me.
I pressed my palms into the worn, wood surface of the desk like that pushed back the anger that flickered inside me. The muscles from my shoulders down through my wrists tensed like my voice when I replied, "You don't know him!"
James only responded with an eyeroll, then in a bored voice, "I know his type, just a stupid jock."
What? How dare he!
"He's not stupid!" My skin itched from how much my insides broiled, my mind spun, and I clenched my teeth together. Sarah shot me a wide-eyed look like she was surprised that steam hadn't exploded out my ears, but I wasn't done.
"He's probably smarter than all of us combined." I full-on glared at James while Logan's help with my Statistics programming flashed through my mind. "Logan's sensitive and sweet and funny. He was just concerned about me... because he... would do anything so something bad wouldn't happen to me."
And it's about time I start doing the same.
"Jeez Ellie, do you live with him or are you in love with the guy?" James stared wide-eyed at me, probably since he'd never seen me look like I wanted his insides pummeled.
Not that James deserved my response, but there was only one I had in mind. So, without a blink, I looked straight in his eyes and told the absolute truth.
"Both." My fists squeezed tight when I added, "Don't talk about my boyfriend like that again."
After a few moments of complete silence, not even a paper rustled between us, James silently nodded.
"Good," I quipped, spun on one of my heels, and left James and Sarah's gaping mouths behind.