The Trouble With Quarterbacks(71)

“I know—we haven’t finished yet.” Then she laughs. “It’s been a wild day. There were photographers outside The Day School when I went in and they wouldn’t leave, so my boss had to call the police to corral them all. I mean the kids couldn’t even get in—can you imagine? Then, as I was leaving, I expected them to be cleared out, but they weren’t. I had to hide out for a bit until Kat showed up with these ridiculous disguises, black wigs and huge sunglasses. Surprisingly, they worked, but we were late getting started at the house so we’re still here.”

“Crap. I’m sorry.”

“What? No worries. I mean, it’s different, yeah? Being in the spotlight like that.”

“Yeah. It is. I just saw you on the TV, actually.”

“Are you serious?” She sounds like it’s too wild to believe.

“They were talking about your jobs and your parents. You need to make sure all your social media accounts are set to private. They somehow got a photo of your mom and dad.”

“Oh bugger. I didn’t even think of that. I’m a total novice with all this.”

“It’s not your fault. This isn’t exactly normal.”

I feel horrible for dragging her into the fray like this, but it’s inevitable. To bring her in closer, I’ll only be exposing her more. There’s no way around it.

“Right. Yeah. Logan, I’ve got to go. I need to finish up here and phone my mum. She’ll probably have heard about everything on the news, and I still haven’t really told her about us. I feel bad. I hope they’re not worried or anything.”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Right, phone you later.”

And then there’s a pregnant pause because neither of us hangs up. This is the part where if you loved someone, you’d say it. It’s like we’re both thinking it, and she even laughs, breaking the tension.

“Okay, well, bye then!”

She ends the call, and I sit on my couch staring down at my phone, wondering how on earth I can fix this.





Chapter Twenty-Two





Candace





I’m still getting used to the fact that I can’t leave my flat on a whim. I can’t go out on the sidewalk without someone shouting my name. I can’t just pop into a café for a tea or coffee without people recognizing me. To have gone from total anonymity to veritable fame in a matter of a few weeks is doing a number on my head.

Mum and Dad can’t stop phoning. They think it’s all wonderful. The press is knocking on their door with questions, and my mum is inviting them into the house and showing them photos of me from my baby book. There she is slinging around one of her dirty nappies. Poo went everywhere! When my dad goes out to get the post, he waves and chats with the photographers, asking them if they need a cup of tea or to pop in to use the loo.

I’ve told them to cut it out, but that’s nearly impossible. Telling two parents to stop gloating about their only daughter? Good luck with that.

Logan and I are still trying to learn how to navigate it. He’s come up with a brilliant plan:

I should quit working at District, let him hire me a bodyguard, and oh yes, MOVE IN WITH HIM.

He told me all about it when I phoned him Wednesday night.

“I worry about you in that apartment. That building isn’t secure at all.”

“Isn’t secure?! I’ve got at least four hardened Russian grannies between me and the first floor. They’re as scary as they come. They shout at me if I bang up the stairs too loudly or if they think I’ve gotten too thin. One of them threatened a takeout man with an umbrella last week when he tried to bring Yaz and me some noodles. Believe me, no one is getting past them.”

“Candace.”

“Logan! What you’re asking is insane. I can’t move in with you! I barely know you!”

“You’re deflecting. We know each other. I know you.”

“Yes, well, you know all the outer bits, don’t you? But you don’t know what I’d be like to live with. A real slob, I’m afraid. You’d hate it.”

“Lois can help with that. Besides, I think you could learn to hang your clothes up in your closet instead of just throwing them on the floor.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’d be surprised.”

“I think you should consider it.”

“Right, well, even if I did agree, good luck convincing Kat and Yasmine! I think they’d have my head if I tried to move out. We’re a package deal, you know. I can’t just abandon my friends.”

The next day, I arrive back to the flat after work to find that Kat and Yasmine have gathered up all my clothes and dumped them in the living room in a huge pile.

“What in the world are you doing?!”

Kat glances up then from her spot on the sofa. “Oh look, Yaz, Judas is home.”

Yasmine glares up at me with her arms crossed over her chest. “Who? I don’t see anyone.”

“Guys, what are you going on about—”

Kat shakes her head. “You’re dead to us. Don’t even look at me.”

“KAT!”

She jumps to her feet, stepping over the mound of clothes in the middle of the room. They’ve really cleared out my closet, haven’t they?