Academically and socially, my primary communication with Logan the following week was when we worked on our Anatomy class group project. Even then, we segregated the work so I wrote the paper while Logan did the presentation. Amy and Emmitt emailed their half-assed efforts in the form of bulleted notes.
"I've got the paper draft almost ready, so you can update the last four presentation slides," I muttered quietly across the dining room table at Logan. In a rare moment this week, we'd gotten together and worked on our Anatomy paper and presentation.
If silently typing away at our laptops counts as 'working together.'
"Perfect," he replied casually. After I emailed the draft to our group, Logan's laptop chimed and he clicked on what I assumed was our paper.
"This is... pretty good." His eyes scanned back and forth over his screen. "Where did you get all the information on the hypothalamus clinical trials?"
"Amazing thing." I propped my chin in my palm and grinned at him. "There's this building on campus where I work... It's got so many books and journals in it. Medical ones even."
"Smartass," was his response but I caught the small glimmer of amusement in his eyes. "Editing up a few things, depending on what Emmitt and Amy say, we'll be done almost a week before the deadline."
If they say anything.
"We still have to figure out who's presenting what," I reminded him. My other hand squeezed into a fist in my lap under the table because presentations were my least favorite thing in school.
I'd rather take ten tests than stand up in front of two hundred students and put them to sleep.
After a few moments of Logan's silence, I added, "But... other than their feedback, Emmitt gets to just stand there and look cute while Amy bats her eyelashes at you?"
"Huh?" Two ocean blue eyes flipped up in my direction before his forehead creased slightly. I sat silently with a largely unchanged expression and waited to see if my words registered.
After a few moments where we silently studied each other, Logan cocked his chin sideways and his eyes darkened a deeper shade of blue. "I can't decide if you're trying to gauge my jealousy or showing yours."
Wow, cocky.
"Don't worry," I assured him in a dry tone and closed out my document editor with the paper draft. "Even though I'm not sure how else to tell you how I have absolutely no romantic feelings whatsoever for Emmitt, I'm sure once he realizes I'm a walking crime scene every month, you'll have nothing to worry about."
"Ellie..." Logan's eyes softened, then dropped down to his hands on the table, where he rolled a pen over with his fingers. "I'm sorry."
Before I asked if he meant over which point I'd made, periods or Emmitt, he clarified, "Your... lady business."
"My lady business?" His odd choice of words cringed my nose, so I flung other options at him, "Aunt Flo visiting? On the rag? Parting the red sea? Attack of the uterus ninjas? Shark week?"
I enjoyed every squirmed movement, how his hips shifted, his eyes cringed into half-moon shapes, nose and mouth twitched, and shoulders tensed the more options I tossed out, until he finally lifted one hand at me. "Yeah, all that. I freaked out."
I palmed both hands into my cheeks and faked a gasp. "You think?"
"Yeah." He gave me a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry."
My expression instantly fell back into what I knew was resting bitch face because, like his obvious personality defect, none of this conversation entertained me.
I should've known better though, he was iffy about them in high school.
"You need to chill out but I'm sorry that I didn't tell you it was coming. I'll try to give you a heads up next time." I winked my closest eye at him. "That way you can build an escape fort in your truck."
"At least I know why you were in a bad mood before," he tossed back at me with a small grin.
I found his words less amusing than he obviously had. "Me!? You were a massive grumpasaurus during our Anatomy group meeting."
His grin instantly dissolved into a scowl. "I don't like the way Verns looks at you, Ellie."
"He appreciates my cauliflower," I scoffed quietly at him, which only earned me a snort in response.
"He's definitely not into your... cauliflower," his voice tensed then he lowered his eyes to my lap. "So when are you... not under construction?"
"If you're seriously asking when we're having sex again, you can use your left hand until my next period starts," I warned him. "I'm exhausted from ignoring you this week."
"I'm exhausted from being ignored," he admitted and slipped his hand over mine. "And, for the record, no. I meant, when will you be feeling better? Can I do anything? I have muscle relaxers."
"Bit too late for those." At the soft, tentative sound of his normally cocky voice, I reached out my closest hand and curled my fingers around his. "I'm feeling better, just drained. I get a little anemic from all the bleeding."
At my last word, a small shudder crept over Logan's shoulders before they crept up closer to his neck. "I'll try to be more comfortable but it really freaks me out. How can you bleed constantly for a week and be okay?"
"I don't know anyone who enjoys that part," I replied dryly and mentally considered the possibility that Logan slept in the hallway if he threw me into the shower next time. "Just please don't treat me like I'm some kind of freak of nature."
"I don't mean to." His hand squeezed mine. "I'll try to deal with it better next time, I think. I hope."
Not sure how he could've reacted worse, but guess he deserves the room for improvement.
"Good." I stood up and pressed my lips gently against his. "Because you have absolutely no freaking choice."
"Where are you going?" He asked, although obviously I walked into the bedroom, where I picked up his phone and brought it to him.
"Pull up your calendar," I ordered as his eyes swirled with obvious confusion in them.
He silently obliged and passed me his phone, so once I typed in the right dates and set a twenty-eight day recurring notification. I put up a shark emoji for five days at a time then smiled to myself when I added 'buy Ellie chocolate' on the day before. Once done, I looked over the screen and smiled at Logan.
"Now you're covered for the next two years."
By the end of the week, after minimal edits from Emmitt and Amy, our Anatomy group turned in our paper and presentation slides. I still hated the statistical programming software that was aptly named after a life-squeezing snake, and my period finally evaporated. Unfortunately, my tutoring pickups took away my Friday evenings and Sunday afternoons with Logan but he understood and spent the time quietly in the apartment.
Logan achieved God-like status on campus since the Huskies were 3-0, with pictures taken along with requested selfies and autographs, but his work ethic never wavered. Between practices where he was the first player on and last off the practice field and film study sessions, classes, and homework, he crashed into sleep early every night after dinner.
Within what felt like a blink, my Friday morning classes ended, I borrowed Charlie's car, and drove twenty miles south down I-5. A loud laugh left me as Logan's crop-topped picture passed by on the way to the SeaTac airport. After I made a mental note that 'local landmark' needed to be shared with our visitors on the drive back, I parked Charlie's car, and walked through two glass doors into the airport's lower level.
Not five minutes after I stood and waited at SeaTac's baggage claim area, I was practically tackled.
"Ellie? Ellie! Oh, Mylanta!! There you are, Sweetie!" A familiar, shrill feminine voice called out over the grinds of the nearest baggage belt, right before a strong pair of arms and larger figure barreled over me.
"Oof!" I choked my head up to the nondescript, white ceiling at the one person I knew who greeted me like this. "Hi Grace."
The view of a tall, broad-shouldered, older and very cute version of Logan's younger brother peeked into my view over Grace's shoulder. He tugged two small suitcases behind him, one in each arm, and his cheeks turned slightly pink while his gaze caught mine.
"Brody!" I squeezed Grace one more time, then stepped over and hugged Brody. His frame had definitely filled out with more muscle definition and his height had stretched up to almost Logan's 6ft5. "Grace, what do you feed these boys?"
"We both know it's not what I cook." Her eyes, the same ocean blue as Logan's, sparkled at me while her head tilted back and warm laughs poured out. "While I have tried many of your recipes, they don't come out... quite the same."
"They're not edible. Hi Ellie." Brody's face was definitely red when we pulled apart and I studied his face. The roundness in his cheeks had been slightly chiseled out and his brown hair was messier and tousled on top, but the same shy, warm brown eyes greeted me. The adorable half-grin he gave me and the dimple it pressed into his cheek made one change about Brody completely obvious.
He's going to be a heartbreaker, if he's not already.
"Look at you, Ellie!" Grace gushed and squeezed my closest arm while I shifted my eyes towards her. "Beautifully grown up. Logan's so lucky you lowered your standards again."
Oh gosh. What do I say to that?
Unlike the tired expression my parents wore frequently, Grace hadn't aged a day since I'd seen her more than two years ago. Her straight, middle-parted blonde hair was cut shorter and brushed right at shoulder-height but was barely dotted with any gray streaks, tiny crows feet still lined the corners of her eyes, and an exuberant energy radiated from her.
Husky Stadium better brace itself.
"How was your flight..." I started to say when the other two recipients of my chauffeured services stepped down the nearest escalators.
"Ellie!" Another familiar, feminine voice shrieked out, and this one I ran towards.
After Harper shoved her white leather purse into the arms of the tall, thin man behind her, strands of long, straight blonde hair flowed flawlessly like she'd created a perfect wind tunnel effect. Even after a two and a half-hour flight, not a strand was out of place and two sky blue eyes sparkled with the strong, confident steps her knee-high black boots took off the escalator down to the baggage claim.
With her ripped black jeans, a tight, baby pink shirt that definitely showed off her 'assets' that jiggled slightly as she jogged towards me, and some designer's sunglasses perched on the top of her head and showed off the multiple piercings in her ears, my friend had perfected the casual travel look.
As usual, Harper's beauty and radiated confidence drew nearby eyes in her direction. In particular, the student-aged guys that waited a few feet away for their luggage and offered her a few dropped jaws and low whistle.
"Take a good look boys because it's all you're gonna get." Her lips curled up in a smirk before she ignored them completely and extended her arms to me.
"Harper!" I squeezed my arms around her tightly, while she pressed her breasts into the base of my neck and nearly choked the air out of me. The scent of spiced vanilla, her favorite perfume, hit my nose while her tall, slender figure stepped back and dragged her eyes over me with a drill sergeant's level of scrutiny.
"Hi Eleanor." Mr. Reynolds stepped up behind Harper, dressed casually for him in gray khaki pants and a long-sleeved collared shirt, then warmly reached over and patted me on the back. The gray in his hair was more prominent than the black and a few more crease lines etched the corners of his eyes behind his frameless glasses, but his tall, slim build and warm smile hadn't changed.
"Thank you for coming." I smiled at him, then looked over the large, black suitcase he pulled behind him. "Do you have everything?"
"Checked two bags," Harper mumbled quietly, her arm still around my shoulders. "Figured you need both my and Dad's help for the interview."
"I appreciate any and all help here, thanks for coming." Since I assumed, or at least hoped, Harper meant hair and makeup assistance, I turned to her dad and asked, "Did you have a good flight?"
"It was a much more interesting flight with Grace and Brody in our boarding group," Mr. Reynolds replied with a sideways glance and smile at Grace.
"Felt like less than an hour with the good company, David," she practically cooed back at him. "I had no idea you were such a sweet talker."
A what!?
For the years I'd only known him as Harper's Dad, somehow Mr. Reynolds had always only seemed like the type of guy who was as stiff as overly starched dress shirts. He only chuckled in response and a slight shade of pink cast over his cheeks, but before I responded, Harper groaned loudly.
"Fucking Southwest," she grumbled as she dropped her arms around me and jerked her thumb between her dad and Grace. "Couldn't give assigned seats like every other airline. So instead I'm stuck with old people's googly-eyes and an almost eighteen-year old virgin for entertainment. I nearly puked in the bathroom once we landed."
I turned to Brody and gave him a smile while we waited for Harper's bags, the soft grinds of the moving belt in the background. "You sat four hours on a plane next to Harper?"
"I...uhh... yeah." Brody's entire face turned beet red, all the way to the tips of his ears, so I turned my head to Harper, who just smirked at me.
I can't even imagine. Poor Brody.
"Let's just say the boy's been baptized," she winked at me, flashed her eyes at Brody, and pointed at two gray suitcases that tumbled onto the belt out the door. "Dimples, can you grab those?"
"Did you just call Brody Dimples?" I raised an eyebrow at her. "Why?"
"Make him laugh hard enough and you'll see them. Sickeningly adorable," she replied and linked her elbow inside mine. "So, where's Adonis? I want to see these sculpted muscles you've memorized path lines over by now in person."
My eyes closed briefly and I hoped Grace hadn't heard her. "He's finishing up practice. I thought we'd surprise him there, then grab dinner after the interview," I said while poor Brody groaned and hoisted up Harper's bags.
"He knows Dad and I are here though, right?" Harper asked as we walked towards the parking lot where I'd parked Charlie's car. She'd loaned it to me since it comfortably held more people than mine.
"Yup. I told him I was picking you up." After a vein now slowly strained across Brody's forehead, I looked back at Harper. "Logan doesn't know Grace and Brody are here... What did you pack?"
"Dead bodies," she deadpanned. "Let's go, Ellie."