Chapter 4 #2
While I might not know a whole lot about the family dynamic with his parents, I know for a fact there have been plenty of times Oakley’s checked in on how Logan is doing. Both last year with all of us still here and also just asking me a couple times since school started this semester.
It obviously comes from a place of love and caring, though from the hint of indignation laced in Logan’s tone, it must be getting on his nerves.
“Well, you being even a little selfish actually makes me feel a lot better,” I tell him honestly. “At least you’re getting something out of it too, you know?”
“Yeah, I get it,” he says while his gaze flashes over to my championship banner again. “So no need to worry about the give and take of it all.”
“So you’re going to let your friends in on the plan, then?”
“No, I think it should appear real to everyone. Just to be safe.”
I know my expression has to be showing my surprise, but I thought for sure he’d opt for home to be a safe zone—or at the very least, he wouldn’t lie to his friends.
Couldn’t he just tell them to corroborate the story without them having to believe it?
Then again, maybe they’re all shitty liars.
I don’t know any of them well enough to be certain.
The only thing I am sure of is this still feels like crazy lengths to go to help someone.
“This is insane. You know that, right?”
Logan runs his fingers through his light brown hair before tossing the hand in my direction. “Maybe, but do you have any better options?”
Not fucking one.
And while I still have eleventy-billion questions and thoughts in my head, I can’t seem to sort through a single one of them right now.
But what he’s offering may just be my golden ticket, so rather than questioning it any further and risk him changing his mind, I cross over to where he’s sitting and hold out my hand between us, pinky up.
“All right, fine. You’ve got a deal.”
His gaze flicks back and forth between my hand and my face before he lets out a laugh and gingerly wraps his pinky around mine.
“Well, now that that’s settled, I guess we need a backstory on how this all happened, don’t we?” I ask, dropping to the end of the bed beside him.
“Oh, I already have one.” My face must betray my every thought, because he raises his hands in front of him helplessly. “What? The girls were asking questions at dinner. I had to tell them something.”
He makes a fair argument, but it doesn’t mean I can’t have a little fun teasing him.
“You were that sure I’d agree to this, huh? Enough to make up a whole saga on our love affair?”
“Oh God. Don’t call it that,” he pleads, blanching slightly. “And as crazy of an idea as this may be, you not taking my help felt even crazier. Especially when you already asked for it.”
“As far as I remember, I asked for a tutor, not a boyfriend.”
“And look at that, now you have both.”
My lips twitch, noticing how easy it is to toss banter back and forth with him. It’s unexpected, though no more unexpected than starting the day being shot down by the guy, only to be fake dating him before bed.
What a strange sequence of events.
Wetting my lips, I ask, “Should we maybe…I don’t know. Set some ground rules?”
“Yeah, probably a good idea,” he agrees with a nod. “The first should be obvious: No hooking up with anyone else. No one is going to take a relationship seriously if it doesn’t appear to be monogamous.” He arches a brow before tacking on, “I hope that won’t be an issue for you.”
Laughter erupts from my chest, and I shake my head. “Are you trying to slut shame me? Because I have absolutely zero shame.”
“Really? I never would’ve guessed after walking in on you while you were naked, doing a dick-copter to fucking ‘Shake It Off’.”
“Hey, shame is a useless emotion, Little Reed,” I tell him with a shrug, which only earns me an eyeroll.
“Oh, perfect. That leads me to rule number two: Don’t call me that. I’m not one of your friends or teammates or whatever else. My name is Logan, not Little Reed.”
“True, but couples have nicknames for each other. Your face earlier said babe wasn’t the best option either, so what about sweetie? Honey? Or maybe—”
“Ugh, fine,” he cuts in, his face screwed up in disgust. “Just keep it to a minimum, all right?”
“Can do,” I agree with a smirk. “But you’re gonna have to come to some of my games if we’re gonna sell this. That’s gotta be rule three.”
If possible, he looks even more disgusted than he did three seconds ago. But he nods in agreement anyway.
“I figured as much, unfortunately. You’ll need to send me your schedule and the syllabus for your philosophy class. I’ll carve out some time to help you with the school work a few days each week, and pick some games to attend. Just so things look realistic on the dating front.”
“Uh, yeah. Okay.” My tongue pokes the inside of my cheek as another topic comes to mind. “Where do we stand on physical stuff?”
His gaze snaps to mine, and gone is the nauseated look from moments ago. In its place is nothing but contempt and horror.
“Just because you can’t hook up with other people doesn’t mean I’m having sex with you. You have two working hands. Use ’em.”
My lips twitch, fighting a smile, when I amend, “I was actually talking about PDA, not us fucking. Glad to know where you stand on that, though. I’ve always wanted a boyfriend who was disgusted by the idea of having sex with me.”
“Oh” is all he says.
Yeah. Oh.
At least he has the decency to look a little bit embarrassed by the assumption—as he should be. But also, why wouldn’t he want to have sex with me? I happen to be a fantastic lover.
Whatever. His loss.
“I mean, PDA is fine, I guess,” he finally says, cutting through the silence. Unfortunately, his statement doesn’t match his actions from earlier tonight.
“Okay, then you wanna explain why you completely denied me when I went to kiss you?”
His gaze lowers to the floor. “I wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.”
“Understandable,” I offer in concession.
It was a little bit of a sneak attack, but real couples kiss goodbye all the time; it wasn’t that outta pocket.
“But you do realize there will probably be plenty of other times that happens, right? So are you going to be okay with me catching you by surprise and still be able to play along? Whether it’s a kiss, holding your hand, putting my arm around you?
If you pull away or flinch when I do, this whole idea is kinda doomed.
No one will believe it if I can’t touch you without you… recoiling.”
From the way he purses his lips, he’s aware my point is valid—even if he won’t admit it aloud. Which he doesn’t, of course. But he does concede ever so slightly.
“Maybe just let me be the one to initiate it, then. Or give me a heads-up before you do?”
Because we’re going to be in situations where me saying okay, I’m gonna kiss you now is a remote possibility? But there’s no use fighting him on it, even if it’s not the best plan of attack. After all, relationships are all about compromise. Supposedly.
“Okay, we’ll do that your way,” I concede while tapping my fingers on my denim-clad thigh. “How long are you thinking we keep this up?”
“I dunno. The tutoring part would be until the end of the term for your classwork. As for the whole dating thing…” He trails off in thought, gaze shifting around the room. “I don’t know. I guess we can reevaluate as needed.”
“Uh, yeah. Okay. That works.”
We hash out a few more details—which includes all the things he told the girls at dinner—to get on the same page, and once we’re done, Logan is quick to bring the conversation to a close.
“We’ll get started on your assignments the day after tomorrow. I’ll book a study room in the library, and we can meet there after you’re done with practice.”
With that, he’s off the bed and heading for the door, leaving me stumbling through my thoughts and feelings as he goes.
“Wait, Lit— Logan?” I stutter, correcting myself with a wince when he turns back to me. “Just…thank you.”
All he does is nod, silently accepting my gratitude, before continuing out the door.