Two weeks after my and Logan's first date, the details were as fresh as when we experienced them. My cheeks warmed, and my heart raced faster when I flashed Logan. He couldn't have reacted differently when he told me to wait. It felt like he doused me with a cold shower of rejection, but his whispered voice still gave me shivers.
"Let me look at you."
The weight of Logan's eyes warmed more than my cheeks. My skin tingled as if his hands roamed where his eyes looked, but I was more relaxed than exposed. I shuddered from the borderline desperate insistence that flooded his eyes with a darker shade of blue.
"You're beautiful. Not like this, all of you, Ellie. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. I never want to take that for granted. I'll never do anything that you aren't ready for, and I'm always going to ask if certain things are okay."
My heart melted. Ellie goo status unlocked.
I cupped both hands around my warm cheeks. What was I staring at? Jake could have sat on my desk, and I wouldn't have noticed. Logan and I shared kisses, a lot of them, and each touch made me feel indescribable. His asking permission was so quiet but powerful. Until he turned my body into an infinite number of switches flipped on at once, only to do it again when we made out in his truck after their most recent win.
A small tremble ran between my shoulders and down my spine from his hands, large and rough, exploring my skin. Their imprint was reassuring and torturous. The warmth and softness of his lips rolled mine in. The river water's splashes faded under the elevated pants of his breath. I held mine in from his mouth's tugs and nips turning my internal organs into molten goo.
I think they're still like that.
His touch was deliriously addictive. The warmth from his hands and mouth spread through my body and woke up a network of sensitivity in me I didn't know existed.
More than attraction presented in how affected I made him. He looked at me with the shock I expected, then awe and wonder like I was the only person he saw, and he saw me. The real me, not broken me, and I felt beautiful and cherished. A weighted sense of responsibility hardened his gaze like he was going to tread carefully. He couldn't have faked that concern any more than I faked the explosion of reactions in me.
I wasn't broken Ellie, I was beautiful and unraveled him with one look. He wasn't surprised easily, but I liked teasing him.
Logan frazzled was a sight, with the sky behind his head, and the sunlight's shadows over his hooded expression. I trusted him more than my inhibitions. The guy had the restraint of a nun.
He should give Harper lessons.
"Back to work," I mumbled to the document open on my screen. Almost done. My Logan daydreaming had that effect. "Last paragraph. Not my best writing, but going to have to be good enough."
I saved my changes, printed it out, and stuck the essay in a large yellow envelope with all six completed event forms, smiling at the Mary's House one. The longest, stickiest two hours of my life were in that daycare, but the girls were amazing.
"Thanks for the help," I mumbled to Mary's signature.
Time would tell if avoiding parties would stop triggering my nightmares, but my past no longer weighed me down. Trauma was a part of me, but having strong, empathetic support gave me the confidence to address it. Thankfully, I hadn't had any nightmares and zero triggers from being physical with Logan.
Gosh, I liked stunning him into silence. Despite flashing him and the internal fireworks his touch ignited in me, empty stomachs prevailed. Logan tried to convince me to eat shirtless. Big mistake daring him to eat naked. He stripped his pants and underwear off, giving me enough embarrassment. With no shame, he teased me about skinny dipping.
He's terrible. Don't get me started on the forty-two selfies he took on my phone last weekend. "What am I going to do with you, Logan?"
A heavy fist pounding on my door wasn't my answer. "Ellie?"
"Who is it?" I asked as if I didn't know that door-rattling knock.
Ignoring it and its owner's existence for two weeks wasn't enough of a hint for him to stop. Jake's voice muffled through the door, "Me."
I sprinted to the door like my bedroom was on fire and flipped the lock. "I'm doing homework."
"Ellie!" My door thumped above my head, and his voice lowered in defeat. "Please."
"Leave me alone!" I palmed the door, wishing I could push him away. My new phone buzzed on my desk, so I abandoned the door and Jake on the other side. Only two people consistently texted me, and I smiled at a message from the goofy one.
L: Hi baby.
Me: Hi yourself.
Me: Miss you.
"I'm going soft," I murmured. The bangs on my door disappeared. Good riddance.
L: Same. Wanna come over to study?
Me: "Study" what?
L: Me, of course. 😉
I couldn't help but smile. "Walked into that one."
Me: You come here? Jake can bother you instead of me.
L: Your brother is a loser.
Me: Technically, you're tied.
Me: Come over for meatball rolling.
L: How is that a question?
I started to type, 'the edible kind.' Poor choice of words.
Me: Cooking.
Me: You can eat however many you make.
L: On my way.
L: But you should forgive him.
"Don't care." I pulled my mouth to one side and set down my phone. Jake didn't exist on my radar. My earbuds were my shields at school and home, where I turned away from him.
Our only exchange was when Dad shoved me into the garage to acknowledge the replacement phone. True to his word, Jake's Saturday nights involved clanking at the heap of junk. Our parents traded silent frowns and headshakes. Mom guilted me about leaving family dinners, but I threw my half-full plate in the sink and retreated to my room. They were on the golden boy's side, and I didn't have time for their meddling.
Dad's raised hands stopped me at the top of the stairs Friday night. "Ellie." His eyes roamed over the Salesian letterman jacket that swallowed me up. Logan took it back and wore it all week before his sixth win to 'reinstate the man stink repellent,' whatever that meant. "We missed you tonight."
"I said I was going to Logan's game." My spine stiffened. "Sorry to you and Mom."
"Ellie, you know Jake wanted you there." Discomfort clouded over the brown in Dad's eyes, and uncertainty strained his voice, "Good game?"
"Yes." I forced a yawn that turned into a real one. "Salesian won. I'm tired and need to go to bed, please."
Dad nodded, and I retreated to my room, ignoring the faint light under Jake's door. Whatever Jake wanted, I had nothing to say to him. My anger subsided into a dull pit in my chest as Logan's bruise faded from yellow and brown to his skin color. Part of me wanted to congratulate Jake on his early admission into USC. All of Santa Cruz probably heard Mom and Dad's cheers when his letter arrived. If he had a solid season, he secured a full ride. Jake's uncertainties dissolved after the Salesian game, including a total cliché moment asking Chloe to Homecoming, and she said yes.
I didn't congratulate him for showing enough restraint not to get into a fight with Logan because that was Logan's influence. He never told anyone who hit him, but no one believed it was a tree. Past feeling happy for my brother's success, I wouldn't coddle him. I never needed his permission or protection, but I'd accepted both. With my blinders ripped off, I didn't want either.
And I certainly didn't need his ass for rides. Following Mom's advice about living more for today, I used half of my savings for a car down payment. The six-year-old Volkswagen Beetle wasn't fancy, but it was small and cute and mine. I wasn't sure if Logan fit in my 'clown car,' but the freedom and time from not waiting for Jake or Harper were liberating. Worth every pizza grease-earned penny.
My car let me work until Pizza Palace closed. In a sweet gesture, Logan's large frame sat at a corner table and studied until my work shifts ended. During weeks I wasn't at Mary's House, I sat through two of Logan's practices. My butt in Salesian's bleachers was an adjustment, but Jake didn't need me at his football stuff anymore. He and Logan won both their next two games.
Speaking of Logan, he wasn't as distracting of a study partner as he teased. But I did want to see him. And kiss. Definitely kiss. I shut my door with a sigh.
Jake reclined against his pillows, his long legs stretched, and his fingers typing on his phone. "Ellie?" He ran his fingers through his hair and set aside his phone. "I know you don't want to talk to me, but can you listen? Please?"
Familiar words. I stopped at his door and crossed my arms. His shoulders slumped, his eyes were dull, and his mouth turned down. I couldn't remember when he looked or sounded so... I wasn't sure. Lost? Defeated? He had everything going for him. Why wasn't he happier?
"I'm really sorry." If his lips weren't moving, I wouldn't have matched quiet and strained with uncertainty to Jake. Where was his usual cocky arrogance? He had everything he wanted, so why wasn't he walking around with his chest puffed up and ego insufferable?
"For?" I snapped and let the word hang in the air.
"Your phone, mistrusting Logan, everything." He swung his legs over the side of the bed and planted his giant, sock-covered feet between two dirty laundry piles. "I'm sorry."
I blinked. "Is that it?"
"No." His hand patted the bed next to him. "Sit down."
I only shook my head. "Logan's on his way over. You have him to thank for me talking to you. He's not as bad as you made him out to be if you ever listened to me."
"I know." His dark eyes pleaded with me. "Please sit down."
"There had better be groveling involved." I sat next to him with a sigh. In a quiet but firm voice, I clasped my hands and stared at them. "Jake, why did you hit him?"
Jake's gaze burned a hole into the side of my head, but I refused to look anywhere but my hands. "It was his idea the second time," his low voice explained. "He thought it would make me feel better."
Of all the bullshit reasons! "Feel better!?" I squeaked. "Jake, it was your fist!"
"I know." His voice lowered and thickened with guilt. "But you're still my sister. Part of me won't like you being with anyone. I've had to chase off half the guys on my team just this year from asking you out. The fact it's him pours more salt in the wound."
"A self-inflicted wound." I squeezed my hands. "Why hit him once and not beat him senseless?" Given Jake's recent anger streak, I was grateful he'd shown restraint.
"USC," Jake mumbled. "Logan was right. We would've gotten suspended."
A scoff tickled up my throat. Of course. Football. Fucking football. It couldn't have been his conscience, although I knew that because Jake punched him. Twice. "He's not applying there. And he didn't nark on you for punching him, did he?"
"No." He shook his head, then turned and looked away. The bed creaked as he leaned over and rested his elbows on his knees. In a bitter voice like he spat out a bad taste, he added, "I don't like to admit how fucking good that guy is. But I also still don't like the idea of you and him together, Ellie."
Tough nuggets. Not his choice. "That's not up to you," I said. "And the sooner you accept that, the better. I don't have much to say to you until then."
The silence turned uncomfortable. Jake sat next to me, but it felt like miles. I wasn't sure how this rift started or how to shrink it, but broken trust doesn't heal itself. "I know," he said in a defeated tone.
Acceptance was a good start, but was he serious or placating me? "Do you?"
"Yeah, but I don't know why it burns so much." Tension etched lines around his eye and the corner of his mouth, but he kept his gaze averted. Frustration heightened his voice, and he raked his fingers through his dark brown waves. "Why him, Ellie?"
Good question. I'd asked myself that countless times. "I have no idea. I tried not to have anything to do with him. He was the rudest asshole I'd ever spoken to, football player or not."
A smile relaxed the tension on my forehead and cheeks. "He ended up liking me along the way." He had conquered his stupidity. "I didn't change him or expect him to change like you'd accused me of. He didn't want to be that guy. Maybe, in time, you'll see that, but I don't care if you like him or not. Because I do."
"I know," he grumbled and rolled his eyes. "You don't need me. I'm working on that. I'm a little slow sometimes."
I bumped my shoulder into his. "You are a football player."
"I'm also your brother." He nudged back. "Protection is my way of saying I love you. I don't want you to get hurt. How does he know about Ryder?"
My spine stiffened, and I chewed on my lower lip. The last thing I wanted was for Jake to be inspired to do something stupid, like track Ryder down and not show any restraint. "He knows someone who knew Ryder's reputation," I said. "So, he asked me about it. More than once. He does care, Jake."
Jake shook his head and frowned. "The minute he first hurts your feelings, I'm going to beat the shit out of him."
Suppose I shouldn't expect anything less. "How about we leave my feelings to me?" I gave him a tight smile. "Can you focus your efforts on being a normal human who doesn't lead with anger, fists flying, and bad decisions? If not for my sake, then Chloe's."
"I know. I get angry too quickly." He squeezed his hands so tight that his knuckles whitened. "I'm sorry about your phone. And I also owe you thanks for talking to Chloe."
"All I said was she should give you another chance." About time he was with a girl who wasn't obsessed with what Jake was but not on the hate side of the spectrum like Harper.
The soft, wistful voice he spoke with was unrecognizable. "Are you able to give me some slack?"
I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. Slumped over, Jake looked like life was sucked out of him. "No, Jake." His broad back expanded and heaved with a sigh. After a few moments, the corners of my mouth quirked up in a smile. "You're my brother. You get infinity chances."
At face value, my words might have seemed like I'd forgiven Jake, but I wouldn't forget what he'd done. The anger and distrust that burned in his eyes, the rage of false accusations, and his deaf ears were a side of my brother he'd never directed at me.
"Thanks, Ellie."
Relief flooded into Jake's eyes, but I only felt a sense of unease. Time would tell if he got his anger under control. My phone buzzed, probably Logan, so I stood and sighed. "Logan's on his way over, so if you don't want to see him, I suggest you find an alternative."
L: Here.
Logan's truck on the curb made my heart flip. He waved me over, then opened the passenger's door. "Hey," I breathed and climbed in. His disarming smile stole my question of whether he was coming inside. A giddy rush shot through my veins, making the skin on my forearms tingle with goosebumps. Would I ever not have this reaction to seeing him? Dressed in a white T-shirt and gray sweatpants, he kept his title of the most attractive guy I'd ever seen.
The corners of his mouth lifted. "What are you doing?"
I took no shame in dragging my eyes over my boyfriend. The casual hunched-over look - no, he clenched his abs. "Studying."
Two hands cupped around my face and ended my second visual tour. "Guess I'm yours to look at, but I didn't think you'd take me seriously."
"Shouldn't have given me the option." I leaned closer and pressed my lips to his. Warm softness pressed back, along with his natural taste. A hum of contentment vibrated my throat and lips, making him pull back.
"Don't tempt me," he whispered, his thumbs stroking my cheeks. "I don't know if your Dad has a shotgun in all that garage shit."
"He does." I pulled back with a huff. "Don't worry. It's broken too."
"Before I forget, I met with my school guidance counselor," he reached into the back cab area and handed me a stack of papers. "After spending twenty minutes convincing him I wanted to talk about science instead of football, he looked at my transcripts and recommended I look into biochemical engineering programs."
"Biochemical engineering?" Whatever that was, it sounded impressive.
"It'd be a double major, bio and chem, heavy on math." He nodded, but his eyes glimmered. "I got these letters in the mail last week."
"Logan." I gasped at the headers and clenched my stomach. Harvard. Cornell. Yale. Princeton. This was big. Really big. Bigger than Logan big. "They're all acceptance letters!"
"Everyone wants a piece of me," he gave the understatement of the year.
No shit. "That's great!" I dropped the papers on the seat and wrapped my arms around his neck. "This is so impressive! My early applications haven't been answered yet."
In one swift movement, his hands grasped my hips, and he pulled me into his lap. My pulse raced, and tingles erupted where my nipples brushed his chest. His warm breaths parted my lips, and he rested his fingers on my backside. I doubted that was to hold me secure, but his eyes wore a distant, distracted look. "It's a lot to think about."
"Of course." I curled in and brushed a small kiss on the remnants of his bruised cheek. "You'd better know I support whatever decision is best for you."
I pressed another soft kiss against his neck and smiled at the breath he drew in. With the tip of my nose, I nuzzled the sensitive spot under his jawline and whispered, "But right now, we should celebrate."
He pulled me closer, and I melted into our kiss. I ran my fingers through his hair and parted my lips, relishing the sensation of his tongue moving against mine. Throbs of excitement awoke in me, rushing my blood faster and simmering heat beneath my skin.
A warm aching sensation started to build deep inside me. I shifted my hips and rubbed against his lap. With a groan, he pulled me closer. Tiny heartbeats pulsed between my legs.
"Such a tease, Ellie," his voice sounded low and strained as he broke off. "We better stop before your parents see."
"Mood killer," I teased and slid back to my seat.
Logan lowered his hand and adjusted himself with another groan, this one disgruntled. "You're lucky I like you too much."
"I assume that's a good feeling to have about your girlfriend." I cupped my warm cheek.
His hand found mine, and his lips pulled into a smile. He didn't wear his usual smirk, and his eyes wore a weighted sadness. "I don't want to be one of those couples that go away to college and then break apart."
"We have a bit of time left. I haven't even gone to Homecoming yet," I said. "I haven't even gotten a dress yet, scandalously."
"I'm serious, Ellie."
"I'd be lying if I said similar thoughts hadn't crossed my mind," I said. Especially after Jake got his USC offer, where would Logan and I end up? Would it be together? A warm glow nestled in my chest from him worrying about it. Today was early-October, not May. The firmness in my voice surprised us both, "Then we'll look together."
Logan's eyes widened as if I told a joke that wasn't funny, but I shrugged. "And maybe we'll find a school that works for both of us."
Hesitancy filled his voice. "I have to go where I get a scholarship."
"Same, but you'll have more places than me." I picked up his letters. We were so new in our relationship that this probably seemed crazy to discuss, but I was serious. My criteria were simple: scholarship and anywhere more than a hundred miles away. "We'd have to find a school that works for us both, but I can study my non-committed major anywhere. I don't know what will happen, but you've quickly, annoyingly quickly, become a very important person in my life, Logan. Sorry not sorry, but I'm not letting you go so easily."
His eyes warmed the more I spoke, dissolving the doubt in them. "I'd like that. We won't know if we don't look."
"So, we'll look together." I sealed the word with a quick kiss. "Now, let's go roll your meatballs."
Five minutes later, I stood in my comfort zone while Logan was totally out of his. Hopefully, for the first time of many. "Like this, Ellie?"
Logan's voice, full of uncertainty, made me turn around and tip my head back with a laugh. "Roll it, don't smash it." I smacked my palms, then moved them in a circular, snowball-rolling gesture. "Balls, not hamburger patties."
He blinked for my words to settle in his brain, then grumbled, "I'm beginning to appreciate the eating aspect of these more."
"And I appreciate you wearing that apron." I tugged on the pink ruffles adorning his waist. With his height, the waistline was more tied closer to his ribs, but he looked adorable. "But I mean it, you can eat what you make."
Does he realize we're making two hundred before the red sauce? Mom smiled at his tall frame in our assembly line. Shocked was an understatement of their reaction when I introduced him as 'my boyfriend' after the Santa Cruz-Salesian game. Mom warmed up to Logan in the second conversation, probably because of his similarities with Jake. Or the goofy smile she sees on my face every time his name was mentioned.
Jake left for Chloe's, so only the four of us were in the house. Dad was like Jake; he wouldn't have liked anyone I dated and insisted on a close, guard dog proximity whenever he saw Logan. Once the Sunday games were on, they could get engrossed in football conversations.
Logan never talked about football, not to me, but I had a feeling that he would talk about football all day if that impressed Dad.
"None of us wears that when we cook." I smiled at Logan behind my phone screen and took a picture of his less-than-enthused expression. "Maybe I'll make this my new background. Logan's first cooking lesson."
"Very funny, Ellie," he replied in a flat tone.
His calling me Ellie didn't bother me anymore, not that he'd given me a choice. I stopped calling him Asshole but stuck with Logan. His name didn't lend itself to a boyfriend endearment nickname, but we had time to sort that silly stuff out.
"I thought football players were supposed to have soft hands." I removed his apron and playfully swatted him with the fabric. His quick feet dodged me, but his wall of muscles stepped flush against my side.
"Hey." He nudged me with his elbow, then leaned over and whispered in my ear. "I'll be happy to show you what these hands can do later."
Oh boy. Parents in the vicinity. "Ahem." From his recliner seat in the living room, Dad let out a fake cough and eyed Logan over the newspaper.
Warmth filled my cheeks. Logan winked and mouthed, "Later," then dodged another swat from me.
"I think we're all done here." Mom wedged herself between us and inspected our work. "Ellie, perfect as always. Logan, not terrible."
"Now I see where Ellie gets her lack of compliments from," Logan said with a gruff voice and a glimmer in his eyes. At least he didn't add something cheesy, like 'as well as her good looks.'
Once the last mound of meatball mix was scooped out of our bowls and rolled into place, Logan stepped next to me at the sink. "Can we eat?"
I closed my eyes and flinched from the water droplets he flicked on my face. "Nope." I shook my head and wiped my wet hands on Logan's T-shirt. "We bake them for an hour, then make the gravy."
"Gravy?" he echoed with raised eyebrows. His head tipped to the side and he blinked as if I wore meatballs on my head.
"Like red sauce." My explanation offered no help since his expression remained. "Sorry, Mom's one hundred percent Italian and calls it gravy."
"Red sauce?" A frown creased his forehead. "Like ketchup?"
Not ketchup. Mom's hearty laugh hit me from behind. I turned to her red cheeks and shoulders twitching from held-back laughs. "It's only a tomato-based sauce. Ellie, get the ingredients."
On autopilot, I pulled out a gigantic bag of Roma tomatoes from the pantry, plus onions, garlic, and six bottles of seasonings, and spread the ingredients across the counter. "We put it on everything pasta-related," I said. "Which reminds me. Mom, we're out of Jake's beloved chicken parm. Logan, you can take some home for you and your mom because we're two-thirds through the season, and I can't stand it already."
Logan eyed the ingredients suspiciously. "You're not getting out a jar and twisting off the lid?" Mom and I grinned and shook our heads. "How long does that take?"
"About two hours." I grinned. "Welcome to Italian cooking, Logan."
One of his large palms hit his forehead, and he groaned. "Now I see why you only do this once a month. It's an all-day process."
I shook my head at his silliness and winked at Mom. "Some things are better if they take a little extra time to develop."
Logan dropped his feigned dramatics and shot me a smirk that weakened my knees. Heat crept across my cheeks when he stepped over and wrapped me in a hug. His heart thumped a steady beat, but I pulled back before Dad coughed again.
We had time, and I couldn't wait to see how we spent it.
Together.
🏈💕🏈
The End
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