Logan's name came out in a breathy whisper. What the fuck was he doing here!?
"There's the jelly to my peanut butter." His smirk widened and he patted the space at his table. "Hi, baby."
I gasped and blinked, as if Logan Hightower, the guy who my brother warned me to stay away from and who attended school almost an hour from here, wasn't standing right in front of me. Why was he standing right in front of me?
"Eleanor, wash your hands and jump right in." Karen looped an apron over my head, tied it behind my back, and pointed to the kitchen sink.
I trudged my feet in slow motion to the sink. My thoughts turned muddier. How was he here? It couldn't be a coincidence. In a blink, I stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Logan with my hair collected in a net. Or, his elbow level to my shoulder.
Did he plan this? Why isn't he at football practice?
Thank God Jake isn't picking me up.
If he found out Logan and I were together... Not together-together, but this wasn't good. The kitchen walls narrowed and I swallowed the dryness in the back of my throat. I couldn't bail on this event. What do I do?
Karen's voice broke through my jumbled thoughts. "I appreciate all your help making meals today so I can catch up on bookwork."
Yes. Making meals. That's it. Never mind the elbow not subtly poking my arm.
She nodded at my empty table space. "Sandwiches are pretty self-explanatory, just wrap them in foil once you're done, but Nina, Meredith, and Earl can help if you four need anything."
Then, she abandoned me. I tried a few deep breaths, but my heart hammered into my chest walls. Once again, my thoughts weren't much help.
Jake will kill me.
No, he won't. He doesn't even know where I am.
Play it cool, Ellie. It's a charity. Don't make a scene.
His eyes look as blue as the ocean today. No, Ellie. You hate the beach, remember?
I reached into a box of plastic gloves on the table and grabbed a pair. All ten fingers stuck inside each sleeve as if my hands were sweaty or something.
Stop it, Ellie. Make some damn sandwiches. You have an escape vehicle.
Just. Don't. Look. At. Him.
"You going to take all day with that?" Logan clicked his tongue. "Not very philanthropic, baby."
"Philanthropic," I muttered and snapped the second glove on like a surgeon. I was surprised he even knew what it meant. "You're like a cockroach I can't squish."
"About time you pull your weight." He spread peanut butter on a piece of bread that fit in his palm. "Thought maybe you weren't going to show up."
"My weight is not even half of yours." I pretended to glance disapprovingly over his body as if there wasn't a freaking model's build with rock-solid pectoral muscles staring back.
"Ellie, weight shaming is not nice. We both know mine's all muscle." He picked up another slice of bread with a very not-subtle bicep flexed in my line of vision.
Show off. Him and his perfect body.
Stop it, Ellie. Say something snarky.
"Muscles, sure," I chided and looked between his eyes. "Because we both know there's not much up there in your brain."
Behind him, Marla giggled and covered it up with a cough. Caleb smirked at me over her head.
"Shows how little you know me," Logan said, but with a smile in his voice and a glint in his eyes.
Sandwiches, Ellie. Two hours, fine. I opened two jars of jelly from the row of purple and red jars and put a knife in each. I spread some grape jelly on a bread slice with a perfect, swirled, thick consistency-
"Keep up, slow poke." Logan elbowed my shoulder, stabbing my knife through the bread. "Or we won't feed people until next week."
He set a tray of two dozen sandwiches, half-made with peanut butter, between us. I pressed my single jelly slice on one and suppressed a groan. Instead, the sound came out of my throat like an odd "Mmph" sound. "And you can't give someone that."
Before I answered, he grabbed my butchered sandwich and ate it! I squeaked, "You can't do that!"
"Quality control," he mumbled between thick bites and swallowed. "Earl's ready for a nap, and he's faster than you, Ellie."
Sadly, he was right. Earl was half-slumped over with his eyes closed. I channeled my mounting frustration into hurrying movements at the expense of a few slapped sandwiches. Eighteen in, I whispered, "What are you doing here?"
"Making sandwiches." His voice was light and flippant as he swirled peanut butter with dramatic flourishes. "Try not to be so distracted by me, baby."
I raised my eyebrows. "Seriously?"
"I know I'm attractive, but yes, you're seriously slow." Logan nodded at the sandwich backlog. How had he made forty so fast? "Those aren't going to make themselves. Get to it, Ellie jelly, you're holding up the line."
Did he say Ellie jelly? He did. "You are not going to call me that," I snapped. Cocky Logan had for sure shown up today. Did he know what his mom asked of me? Being nice to him in this mode felt impossible.
"What would you like me to call you... baby?"
I had half a mind to call Grace. Irritation slipped into my voice, and I gritted my teeth. "How about nothing?" I scowled and slapped another completed sandwich onto my smaller pile. "As in, go away and leave me alone. I can't believe you're here, of all places. Why are you here? Not around the corner from Salinas."
My crabby words had zero effect. "Aww, baby. Did you miss me too?" He dodged my question with another elbow jab. "I thought you'd be happier about being together in person."
Together? In-person? I was drowning in Logan. His yeti frame bumped mine, and his fresh smell overpowered the sweet jelly fruits. "When it comes to you, Logan? I only love dishing out the insults."
I muttered to myself, but he turned with a challenging gleam in his eyes. "Go for it then."
"Go for what?" I pretended to examine the most interesting shade of red into the raspberry jam.
"Try your best, Ellie." He dared me in a low, suggestive tone.
A scan of the room showed five smiles in our direction. No pressure. I pursed my dry lips and wet them with the tip of my tongue. "Okay..." Without a glance up, I jellied another sandwich. "Why don't you slip into something more comfortable, like a coma?"
Logan scoffed. It was a weak first attempt, but so was his. "You're like Monday mornings," his words slipped out as effortlessly as breathing. "Nobody likes you."
Please. His first stab didn't faze me. I played the insult game with Jake all the time. Sure, I lost eight times out of ten and never beat Harper, but I rolled up my mental sleeves. Think, Ellie. I tapped my chin under the other volunteers' gazes, then dipped my finger in the grape jelly.
"If you spoke your mind..." I poked the middle of Logan's forehead and dragged a purple smear across it. "Then you'd be speechless."
Logan blinked for a minute like his mental hamster ran on its wheel. The twitch of purple on his forehead lifted the corners of my mouth, so I rolled my lips in. My heart skipped a few beats when those pretty blue eyes flicked down to my face.
"It looks like your face caught on fire, and someone tried to put it out... " His voice filled with indignation, and he put a glob of peanut butter on the tip of my nose. "With gasoline."
The strong peanut smell and oil on my nose made it twitch. With a quick hand, I wiped it off, then capitalized on his insult subject, "Yeah, well, the only thing wrong with your face is that I can see it." I shielded my eyes.
"Ellie jelly, somewhere out there is a tree tirelessly producing oxygen. I think you owe it an apology." Logan's subsequent attempt was better. He could go down fighting.
"Save your breath." I fisted my hips and turned to him with a Harper go-to. "You'll need it to blow up your next date."
The room turned into muffled coughs and laughs, but I kept my glare on Logan. "Ellie?" He faced me and cupped his ear. His wide eyes and dropped open mouth in pretend astonishment was a bit much. "Do you hear that? Your personality called. It's not coming back."
"Logan," I said with a scowl. "I'm not saying I hate you, but I'd play celebration music at your funeral and dance on your casket."
Nina coughed, the corners of her mouth twitching to suppress her laughs. Marla smiled and Caleb shook his head. Crinkles marked Earl's temples as he grinned ear to ear. Further down, Meredith gave me a thumbs up.
Logan, however, frowned before a sparkle brightened his eyes like sunlight on the Pacific. He removed a glove, leaned over, and reached for my face. Low baritone rumbles hummed in my ear, his thumb swept a whispered arch over my lower lip. "Wipe your mouth Ellie, you have a little bit of bullshit there."
Heat flushed into my cheeks. I gasped at the light tingles his touch left behind. Not fair. My brain fried blank and I dropped my shoulders.
"And that's how you do it." His thumb lowered to my chin, then he straightened back up with the biggest smirk. Fuck, I wanted to kiss it off his face. Punch. Punch! I wanted to punch it.
Our exchange fizzled into silence, but it was comfortable. Many hands made quick work, mine the slowest, but two hours slipped by, and I found myself in line with the other school ambassadors for our, 'Yes, they showed up' signature forms.
"Thanks so much." Karen passed me my signed sheet and gave me a big smile. "You all are welcome back anytime."
"This was fun," Marla waved over her shoulder. "See you at the animal shelter."
"Next time." Caleb left next. I hadn't spoken to either of them much, except she was Soquel's student council president, and he was on Seaside's baseball team.
I stretched my tired neck, knelt on knees that cracked, and tucked the paper in my backpack. "It was fun."
We assembled three hundred and fifty meal kits, a sandwich in each, plus three Logan 'quality control rejects.' Despite his wit and sandwich skills being faster than mine, he switched to jelly duty helping until I caught up, and asked Karen to put on music to pass the time. At one point, Logan danced with Meredith and Earl twirled me around. I teased Logan that Earl was a better dancer, but couldn't read Logan's reaction. He wore a lazy half-grin, but the serious look in his eyes made my heart race faster than Earl's dance steps.
Logan's idea worked, and time passed quickly, but my feet throbbed when we left, my empty stomach told me that I needed to pick up dinner on my drive home, and my brain reminded me of the homework in my backpack.
Not sure I want a PB and J sandwich. I widened my eyes at Logan waiting on the sidewalk. Behind him, the sky streaked with beautiful golden-yellow and orange hues behind dark-blue gray clouds. His eyes were a darker shade of blue under the sunset that burned a dark reddish-orange at the horizon.
"No practice today?" I shut the front door. "Before a game tomorrow?"
"Took a personal day." He smiled, and a flicker of confidence brightened his eyes. Me on the front stoop above his ground level put us eye-to-eye, with a romantic sunset background framing him.
"Personal day? You must be a benchwarmer then." I snickered at his scowl. I knew he didn't watch games from the bench, stellar from his stats online, but his half-irritated, half-amused look made teasing him totally worth the effort.
"Hardly." He snorted and rolled his eyes. "I came to see you, Miss Hardest Person to Impress."
Did he come all this way for me? The sentiment crippled my poor heart, which wrung itself in a hard squeeze. I thought his offer to ask me out in person was only teasing.
"Elle," I dismissed what his words could imply, despite the strong thumps in my chest.
A frown creased Logan's forehead, between his eyebrows, then he crossed his arms. His tall, large frame blocked my path to the street. "Why do you do that?"
"Do what?" I side-stepped both Logan and his question
As quickly as possible, I walked to Mom's car, tossed my backpack on the seat, and shut the door. A shadow cast over me from behind. I whirled around and jumped at Logan an inch from me. Warmth caged around me as his palms braced against the hood of the car. Trapped in between his arms, heat flowed off his chest. The proximity of his bare wrists near my ears raised the hairs on the back of my neck and my lips parted open. It wasn't a threatening entrapment, but my heart raced faster. Guess he's not letting me avoid that, but fuck, he was so close that I couldn't think.
"Ellie." Logan held my gaze with a slow enunciation of the final 'e' sound. Those blue eyes searched mine. My family nickname wasn't unpleasant in his voice, and his serious expression wasn't cocky, or showed any other emotion other than... concern?
He's not concerned.
Probably playing with me again.
I pressed my mouth shut and stared straight into his eyes. "Only important people call me Ellie."
Logan leaned his head lower until his face was inches from mine. His tone was so soft, almost delicate, and my knees weakened until I laid my shoulders against the door frame. "What did he do?"
My brain was obliterated. How could he have known? Was I that transparent? His sincerity and gentleness made me want to knock down all my walls, so every painful, pent-up emotion flowed out of in a word vomit confessional. My tongue slacked, and I tucked my lower lip under my teeth. Tightness restricted my throat.
But I can't. Not now, not here, and certainly not with him.
He wouldn't understand.
I crossed my arms, clutched my elbows, and frowned at him. "No one."
"Ellie." Logan's palms slid onto my shoulders and down the back of my upper arms. He wrapped them over my hands on my elbows. My spine stiffened against the shudders desperate to escape. His hands were so gentle, offering an encouragingly warm touch. Jake and Kieran's hands, for comparison, always felt like sandpaper.
Like Ryder's.
The shudders escaped across my shoulders, and I cringed, wrenching them up to my ears. "It's not something I like talking about." I dropped my gaze from the concern filling his and folded my lower lip under my teeth.
He had no idea what he asked of me. I wanted this buried and forgotten, not opened up. And there was no way to explain that wasn't horrific. Logan said nothing, only rubbed the pads of his fingers over my elbows. Each stroke was a pull of encouragement and infinite patience as I heaved uneven breaths. The sting of hot tears pricked the corners of my eyes. "I... I..."
As we stood in silence, the warmth of his hands offered mild comfort, and they rubbed the back of my arms. The admission sat in an invisible weight on my chest, squeezing my throat tight. I hadn't admitted it in years. While letting the truth out probably would've been the healthiest thing I could've done for myself... I couldn't speak the full details. Not to him, of all people.
My mouth opened, and the words froze in the back of my throat. I looked at Logan's chin. Any higher would've captured the look in his eyes. I couldn't see his disappointment and feel the resultant shame, so I squeezed my hand in a fist near my mouth. "I c-c-can't. It's... bad."
Oh shit. That wasn't supposed to come out. My vision blurred as hot tears welled up and threatened to spill over. Constriction choked my throat raw. I blinked in rapid succession. Don't cry. Not here. I squeezed my eyes shut and heaved raspy breaths that hitched my chest until I self-soothed my reactions. Bury it, Ellie.
A thick, uncomfortable silence filled the space between us. I opened my eyes and focused anywhere except Logan's eyes. Without a single word, he stepped into me and tugged me into his chest. A small gasp rushed out of me and my spine froze. His arms enveloped me from my shoulders to my lower back. Hard chest muscles bumped my cheek.
Every single warning bell from Jake's words disappeared. He covered my body in all dimensions, wrapping me into a strong cocoon of warmth. My go-to self-preservation mode screamed for me to shove him away, but my mind fizzled into stupid mode again.
In one breath, my spine went from rigid to relaxed. I inhaled and felt my shoulders soften as I buried my nose into his chest. The fresh-scent deodorant and soap calmed my senses. His soft T-shirt, warm from his body underneath, brushed against my cheek and absorbed the tears caught in my lashes. My arms moved on their own, and my palms clung to his lower back. His elbows locked mine into his sides, and I returned the hug with a sigh of defeat.
"I'm sorry, Ellie," his voice was thick but soft. The warm, deep hums lulled me to open up. His hand stroked down the back of my head and tangled through my hair.
The press of his fingers over my scalp made me close my eyes. The warm, steady thumps of his heartbeat, at the same accelerated pace pounding in my chest, sagged my fatigued body with a shudder. I drew another breath, inhaling his intoxicating fresh sprint scent of deodorant, soap, fabric softener, and... Was that peanut butter?
Despite my hot mess of emotions, a giggle escaped my lips. I never giggled. I laughed. Why was I giggling?
"What, Ellie?"
Logan tried to pull back, no doubt from my shaking shoulders, but I clung to his waist. "You smell like peanut butter." He couldn't see me, but I smiled into his chest. It rumbled with a chuckle.
"I told you." My cheek bounced with his quiet laugh. Logan's frame relaxed into mine, and tension poked the top of my head where his chin rested. "You're the jelly to my peanut butter."
Locked in his warm, secure embrace, my thoughts stilled to silence. For the second time here, I was without a snarky response. Instead of trepidation, I closed my eyes and surrendered to his warm comfort.
I'm in so much trouble here.