I Hate Football Players 3 | 18+

Chapter 69: Ellie

A/N: mature content (look at me go 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️).

The next week blew by in a blur. Our same regimented schedules and Logan's late practices continued, I tutored Kade twice more term papers in his writing class, and Charlie and I sweated through another yoga class where 'man-bun Dan' the instructor now looked at me with a weird sadness in his doe-shaped brown eyes.

The only thing that had changed was how much Logan distracted me. I couldn't put all the blame on him but whenever we were alone in the apartment, which nearly all the time I was there, I physically craved him. He'd lit an internal pilot light of hormones within me and, going off how we slept together at least once a day now, he felt the same. Every time was different but the connection and satisfaction were the same, until the next time I saw him and my switch was flipped again.

Logan, to his credit, was a terrible instigator. His ridiculous good looks aside, he knew me too well. Logan in just a post-shower towel, which he intentionally affected me with because half the time an erection greeted me when said towel was dropped down to his ankles, ceased any coherent thoughts in my head.

His physical contact charged the air around me to the point I wasn't surprised any more. Just a stroke of his thumb over the back of my hand raised the hairs at the nape of my neck and I melted into his touch. Even the relaxed, cocky grin he wore while a post-sex glow lit up his face afterwards challenged me for another round.

I'm starting to understand Harper a little better.

"Please tell me it's normal," I whispered to Harper one night while Logan brushed his teeth in the bathroom.

Logan's week was busier than mine, with the same regimented practices, film study, and weight training preparations for the upcoming away game at the University of Michigan. I knew more from the glimmer in his eyes than what little he'd mentioned about the game to me that he looked forward to it. Solely based on his excitement, I couldn't wait to see why, even if on TV again.

"Completely, given how ridiculously repressed you two were," Harper replied sarcastically.

My free hand palmed my forehead. "What do I do about it?"

"Enjoy the ride," she gave a less helpful response than I'd hoped for. "Buy a kama sutra book, lube up, practice Kegels, I don't know but I'm envious of your sex honeymoon."

Only she would say that.

"Sex honeymoon?" I echoed, then inwardly groaned at the faint throbs of interest in my core area at those words.

"You're -" she started when whatever words followed evaporated in a mental puff of smoke within my mind because Logan stepped out of the bathroom and into my line of sight.

And not a slow campfire smoldering burnout. More like a historical camera poof.

"Ready for bed?" he asked casually but I barely heard his words either, let alone whatever Harper still said.

My entire body whimpered at the sight of Logan, how his boxer briefs clung tight to his hips and upper thighs, the muscles in his biceps flexed from just how he held his dirty clothes in his hands, and the darkening of his irises the longer I gaped at him. One tiny upward lift of the corners of his mouth while he walked past the bed to his dirty laundry basket in the closet told me he'd intentionally given me an eye-level view of his crotch.

Really, really not fair.

I must've made some audible sound, because Harper cursed loudly, then abruptly ended our call.