Academically and socially, my primary communication with Logan the following week was when we worked on our Anatomy class group project. Even then, we segregated the work so I wrote the paper while Logan did the presentation. Amy and Emmitt emailed their half-assed efforts in the form of bulleted notes.
"I've got the paper draft almost ready, so you can update the last four presentation slides," I muttered quietly across the dining room table at Logan. In a rare moment this week, we'd gotten together and worked on our Anatomy paper and presentation.
If silently typing away at our laptops counts as 'working together.'
"Perfect," he replied casually. After I emailed the draft to our group, Logan's laptop chimed and he clicked on what I assumed was our paper.
"This is... pretty good." His eyes scanned back and forth over his screen. "Where did you get all the information on the hypothalamus clinical trials?"
"Amazing thing." I propped my chin in my palm and grinned at him. "There's this building on campus where I work... It's got so many books and journals in it. Medical ones even."
"Smartass," was his response but I caught the small glimmer of amusement in his eyes. "Editing up a few things, depending on what Emmitt and Amy say, we'll be done almost a week before the deadline."
If they say anything.
"We still have to figure out who's presenting what," I reminded him. My other hand squeezed into a fist in my lap under the table because presentations were my least favorite thing in school.
I'd rather take ten tests than stand up in front of two hundred students and put them to sleep.
After a few moments of Logan's silence, I added, "But... other than their feedback, Emmitt gets to just stand there and look cute while Amy bats her eyelashes at you?"
"Huh?" Two ocean blue eyes flipped up in my direction before his forehead creased slightly. I sat silently with a largely unchanged expression and waited to see if my words registered.
After a few moments where we silently studied each other, Logan cocked his chin sideways and his eyes darkened a deeper shade of blue. "I can't decide if you're trying to gauge my jealousy or showing yours."
Wow, cocky.
"Don't worry," I assured him in a dry tone and closed out my document editor with the paper draft. "Even though I'm not sure how else to tell you how I have absolutely no romantic feelings whatsoever for Emmitt, I'm sure once he realizes I'm a walking crime scene every month, you'll have nothing to worry about."
"Ellie..." Logan's eyes softened, then dropped down to his hands on the table, where he rolled a pen over with his fingers. "I'm sorry."
Before I asked if he meant over which point I'd made, periods or Emmitt, he clarified, "Your... lady business."
"My lady business?" His odd choice of words cringed my nose, so I flung other options at him, "Aunt Flo visiting? On the rag? Parting the red sea? Attack of the uterus ninjas? Shark week?"
I enjoyed every squirmed movement, how his hips shifted, his eyes cringed into half-moon shapes, nose and mouth twitched, and shoulders tensed the more options I tossed out, until he finally lifted one hand at me. "Yeah, all that. I freaked out."
I palmed both hands into my cheeks and faked a gasp. "You think?"
"Yeah." He gave me a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry."
My expression instantly fell back into what I knew was resting bitch face because, like his obvious personality defect, none of this conversation entertained me.
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I Hate Football Players 3 | 18+
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