The Trouble With Quarterbacks - R.S. Grey Page 0,105

Logan, and I answer it because I’m weak and in love. Sue me.

“Hello.”

“Hi. How were your plans?”

“Wonderful. I’ve just finished making out with a hunk. What about you?”

“I’m home from my dinner. It was boring without you.”

“Well of course it was. What did you expect?”

“Are you in bed?”

“’Course not. I’m at a huge party.”

“Sounds like you’re lying down.”

“That’s ’cause I am, you knob. Are you happy then? I’m lying here in my pajamas like I have been for the last three hours. I hope you’re pleased.”

“I am. Now, do you want me to come get you?”

“Absolutely not!”

“How long are we going to do this then?”

“Do what?”

“The back and forth where you pretend you aren’t crazy about me. We had a fight. It happens.”

“Yes, well it was a pretty big one, I’d say!”

“I agree, but it was warranted. Things between us turned serious pretty fast, and I hadn’t stopped to consider how best to protect you. On top of the security guards, I still think it makes sense to have you move in here with me. Ryan isn’t impressed with your building, and he doesn’t think it’s the best place for you to live.”

“Oh, I see. You’ve got Ryan agreeing with you, then? How convenient that he sides with the man paying him.”

“Like that matters. He likes you more than he likes me. He says you talk a lot.”

“Of course I do. He’s my mate. I think he’d follow me around all day even if it wasn’t his job.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Is that the reason you’ve phoned? To bother me?”

“Am I bothering you?”

No. Please never hang up.

“I suppose not.”

There’s a long pause, and then he sort of sighs like he’s exhausted. “I miss you, Candace.”

“Yes, well, that’s good. Maybe you’ll appreciate me more in the future then.”

“This is the last night,” he says, all confident.

“The last night of what?”

“That I’ll let you do this. I’m not going through the entire weekend without seeing you.”

“Well, sounds like you have your work cut out for you! Nice chatting. Talk soon!”

I hang up then stare down at the mobile, my stomach in knots.

I shouldn’t be so excited by his threat. I should be extremely worried about what he intends to do before the weekend is through.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Logan

I’m outside Jay’s apartment, about to go in. Before I do, I glance down at my clothes, assessing them like I’ve never cared to do before. I’m nervous tonight, on edge.

With a groan of annoyance, I force myself to knock on Jay’s door, and he shouts for me to come in.

In all the years I’ve known him, he’s never invited me over for a dinner party. There’ve been club outings, dinners at steakhouses, parties with models, sure. Tonight, I have no idea what he’s planning, but I know Candace will be here, so I didn’t hesitate to accept his invitation—even if it was sent over on formal letterhead.

His apartment is nice and ultramodern, lots of sharp edges and white furniture. Or at least it is usually…

Now, I notice feminine touches that weren’t here the last time I came over: a porcelain cat statue near the door, a little framed watercolor of a bouquet of roses, pink hand towels hanging on a hook in the hall bathroom. I peer in and see there’s also a new fuzzy pink mat near the sink.

I find Jay and Kat in the kitchen. They’re wearing matching aprons that say “Mr. Chef” and “Mrs. Chef”. There’s a crystal vase with roses sitting on the island. Jay’s wearing slacks and a pink shirt.

What the fuck have I walked in on?

“Logan! Hi! Lovely of you to join us,” Kat says, hurrying around the island so she can take the bottle of wine out of my hands. “Oh, a merlot! Perfect. We’re having steak, so this will go really well with dinner.” She turns back to Jay. “Sweetums, how are the potatoes coming?”

“They look good. Just a few more minutes, I think.”

I haven’t known Jay to cook. Ever.

I look behind me, worried I might have stepped into a twilight zone back by the door. There are candles lit everywhere, and soft jazz playing. Either he’s been abducted by aliens or he’s totally in love.

“Make yourself comfortable, Logan,” Kat says, patting one of the new paisley-print bar stools. “I’ll open this and let it air out.”

Right.

“Things between you two seem to be going well,” I point out.

Kat and Jay look at each other then reach their hands out to touch, as if the small distance between them is too much.

“They are.

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