The Trouble With Quarterbacks(64)

“You want to borrow some clothes?” he offers.

“Have you got an old t-shirt? A worn one I can steal in the morning?”

He walks into his closet and comes back out with a huge shirt that has his football team’s logo on it. It’s perfect.

“I want it back though,” he warns as I slide it on.

“Aye-aye, captain.”

We both know that’s not going to happen.

“Have you got some knickers in there I could slip on too? Maybe pink ones?”

“I have boxers.”

“So I’m just supposed to go commando all night?”

“I don’t see the problem.”

I roll my eyes. “Of course you wouldn’t. Men.”

He smiles—or rather, gloats—and then he walks over to grab me a spare toothbrush wrapped in plastic that he has in his vanity drawer.

“Do you keep a bunch of these for when ladies come round?” I ask as I accept it.

“I asked Lois to get it when she went grocery shopping this week.”

“Lois?”

“She does everything around here for me. Part housekeeper, part chef. She’s great.”

“Sounds like it. How long has she been with you?”

I’m keeping him talking so he won’t notice how pleased I am that he’s thought to buy me a toothbrush. Some girls want diamonds, but I think this is just as lovely. It’s purple with a little plastic handle and soft bristles. It tells me Logan thought about me this week, thought about me enough to ask Lois to get me a toothbrush, enough to want me to sleep over.

We brush our teeth at the same time, him at his sink, me at the other, swirling circles in our mouths and trying not to make each other laugh. We spit then swish our mouths with water.

“I’m exhausted,” I admit after I finish patting my mouth with a towel. “Can’t believe tomorrow is Friday. I’ve got double duty at The Day School and District.”

“Come over after? I can ride with Pat to pick you up when you’re finished?”

“I wish I could. It’s Kat’s birthday on Saturday, and we’ve got big plans. She wants breakfast in bed then Yasmine and I are taking her out for a spa day. We’re going to this place Yaz found downtown that’s a little sketchy, but the treatments are really cheap, so there’s that.”

“What about Saturday night?”

I frown. “We’re headed to some club Kat’s been going on and on about. It’s supposed to draw in loads of cute guys.”

Logan arches a brow.

“Of course, I’ll only be there as Kat’s wingwoman,” I tease.

He hums as if thinking something over, and then he steps toward me to gather me close. “Maybe I could come out to the club with a few of my teammates? That way it’s not like I’m trying to steal you away all for myself?”

“Ohh! That could work! Kat does get easily distracted, and there was this guy at your party a few weeks ago that she really fancied. I’ll ask her what he looked like so you can invite him.”





I decide not to tell Kat about Logan inviting his friends until I know for sure he can secure the hunks. It’ll be my surprise birthday present for her. I mean, if it works out, she’ll really owe me one. For my birthday last year, she got me a gift certificate to some fast food chain called Arby’s I’d never even heard of. There was $1.05 on the card.

Kat’s birthday starts with Yasmine and me making breakfast while she lounges on the sofa, flipping through channels. She’s wearing a paper crown on her head that I had the kids make her yesterday. It keeps sliding to the side, but she won’t dare let it fall.

“Are you two done yet? I’m starved!”

“Almost!” I reply.

“Right, well don’t burn the toast,” she warns. “You know how I hate that. And I like my coffee extra milky. Toss in a bit and then when you think you’ve added too much, go ahead and add a bit more.”

“Whatever you want, birthday bit—” Yasmine starts before I cut her off.

“Yaz!”

“What?” she hisses. “She’s being a cow.”

“I can hear you!” Kat shouts.

“Well it’s her birthday,” I say, defending Kat. “She’s allowed to be a cow once a year.”

I eat my words when I pass her the toast a minute later and she takes a bite before pointedly spitting it back out onto the plate.

Dead serious, she holds it up and says, “Too cold. Make it again.”

Yasmine sort of leaps at her like she’s ready to have a go. I have to play peacemaker.

“Kat, eat the toast or I’ll fling it out the window” is the diplomatic response I settle on.

“Right, right. Sheesh,” she says, taking another bite before continuing to talk with her mouth full. “You’d just think on her birthday, a girl could get a decent breakfast from her best mates.”

She only gets worse as the day goes on. At the spa, she demands to go first for the facial and massage, and then she insists we do our nails too even though we’ve already racked up quite a bill. When Yasmine and I suggest a little deli round the corner for lunch, Kat declares we must go to a salad bar clear across town. It takes us ages to get there by subway, and when we arrive, the guy behind the counter tries to get my number. When I politely tell him no, he gets real snippy and all but barks the total at me. I think about leaving him a bad tip, but instead, I huff my way over to the salad bar to fill my plate with more food than I would normally get. That’ll show him.