I Hate Football Players 3 | 18+

Chapter 23: Logan

Kitchen-trashing habits aside, Ellie's lunch was amazing. I wasn't sure what magical potion she'd put in it but, with my content, full stomach, I passed out fast asleep for a pre-practice nap.

After just a few days on Ellie's food, I already felt a difference. My body felt lighter, almost cleaner. Since I'd gotten very little sleep last night from Ellie's air mattress tossing, the nap left me renewed while I drove over to Huskies' stadium and parked among the other player's cars.

"You should be giving me rides, new guy," Wes tossed out to me from the other side of his older, silver Audi.

"I'm too old for hazing," I joked but stuck out my fist and he bumped it with his. "Like stealing my clothes."

A wicked grin spread across his face. "I was just the diversion, pretty boy."

"Right." I shook my head but chuckled while we walked towards the locker room together. I wasn't amused by their stupid prank but it had sure worked in my favor when Ellie showed up and got flustered when she saw me naked.

My good mood lasted about five seconds when I saw a tall, thin blonde leaned against the brick wall across from the locker room. One of her knees was bent, which lifted her tiny skirt even higher and the smirk she flashed me deepened my frown.

All she got from me in return was a frown and mumbled, "Fuck, she's persistent."

"Angel Benson?" Wes groaned slightly. "Ever want to see Charlie go postal then put the two of them in the same room."

"Ellie wasn't fond of her either." A smile tugged on my mouth at the memory of how Ellie kissed me at the grocery store.

I'll reject every girl over and over if that's what I get in return.

Despite Angel's eyes on me, I ignored her and held the door open for Wes.

"You apologize yet, bro?" Wes interrupted my thoughts while the bleach-based cleaners of the locker room filled my nose. Our shoes softly squeaked over the clean floors while we headed to our lockers.

UW's locker room was different from any one I'd seen. It was recently renovated, all the lockers were white, and each locker had an LED TV screen with the player's name, number, and position over it. The walls were lit up LED screens with a purple tinted rock pattern and a closer look at the black ceilings showed it was an up close projection of a black and white Husky's face.

There were three aisles of lockers but in the middle was a recessed circle that had an inset block 'W' lit up in white lights. Everything screamed state-of-the art and edgy.

"Not yet." I sighed at his persistence and dropped my stuff at my locker. "Soon."

"Good," he gritted out while his bag hit his locker seat with a thud. "Charlie wants to do some get-together on Friday. I don't want to spend it rearranging your face if I don't have to."

"Don't think that's in anyone's best interest," I grumbled and quickly changed into my practice uniform. All week the offensive side had worn our away purple jerseys with gold pants, which I slid on over my protective gear, tied up my black cleats, and slipped on my black gloves.

As some of the first guys to arrive, Wes and I stretched and warmed up with a few tosses across the practice field. I left my helmet off to the side since Coach Peterson had established already that Emmitt was the starter for Saturday's opener against Oregon.

"LT!" Coach's voice boomed out to me. My head snapped in his direction and saw he stood near the player's bench, then waved for me to come over. Our tall, broad-shouldered coach with his side-swept gray hair had both hands clasped around a tablet when I approached.