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“Sorry. I’ll be quiet,” I promise, miming turning a lock over my lips.
“Why?” he taunts with an arched brow. “I’d rather you weren’t.”
Then his hands slowly glide back up my legs and between my thighs and Farewell, sanity! It was nice knowing you!
The shower takes much longer than either of us probably originally intended. He gives me two orgasms while I lean against the shower wall like a heaping pile of useless bones, and then I return the favor by sliding down onto my knees. After that, we have to rinse off all over again. Showers can be quite dirty endeavors if you take them with the wrong (or right) person.
He cuts the water, and we step out. He wraps a towel around his waist then grabs another to wrap around me. It’s not one of those annoyingly itty-bitty ones that only covers half of one arm. It’s huge and white and fluffy, enveloping me from my shoulders down to my knees.
“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.”
