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Chapter Twelve
Final score:
Logan - 1
Jeni - 0
Or Chiefs 24, Broncos 14. However one said it, the outcome was the same.
Logan would never let Jeni live it down. At the end of the fourth quarter when there was no way the Broncos could come back, he’d run to the closest shop in the lower level of the stadium and bought a women’s Chiefs T-shirt. At the register, he picked up a small Chiefs helmet too, about the size of a golf ball.
He’d hardly been able to think of anything but her since that night. He’d gone through it over and over in his head, trying to figure out exactly what happened. To him, to her, to them.
He hadn’t fucked her.
He hadn’t made love to her.
What they’d done landed somewhere in the middle. The best way he could think to describe it was…intimate.
Intensely intimate.
Whatever it was, it had been different. He’d felt a pressure in his chest, a thickness in his throat, and a foreign sense of wholeness as she lay beneath him, looking up into his eyes. It terrified him, but he couldn’t figure out why. Wasn’t a connection like that what he’d been looking for all this time, what he wanted?
He’d never felt with another woman the way he had with Jeni. Was it because he knew her beforehand? That they were sort of friends first? Was it because she was Andrew’s sister and she was like forbidden fruit?
He didn’t know. He just wanted to be back at Mateo’s with her, talking and laughing over tacos and beer. And he wanted her in his bed again.
In that order, which was the part that was messed up. For him anyway.
His phone vibrated in his pocket and his heart leapt with anticipation that it was Jeni. She was probably texting with a list of excuses of why the Chiefs didn’t deserve to win. He’d give her the questionable pass interference call in the third quarter, but otherwise it had been a fair game.
Logan looked at the screen, disappointed for a split second when he saw it wasn’t her. It was about her though, and he smiled. He loved the seventy-something-year-old sisters who shared the seats next to his.
Sally: Cute girl in your seat today.
Logan: Don’t get too excited. She’s just a friend.
Sally:Margaret talked shit to her the entire game. Your girlfriend gave it right back. She’s a feisty one.
Logan:Not my girlfriend. And I don’t think you’re supposed to say ‘talked shit’ at your age.
Sally:I can say anything I want at my age. Has your mom met your girl?
Logan:We’re done here.
Sally:Say hello to your mother for us.
Logan:I will. You can expect regular visitors in the seats next week.
Sally:OK. Don’t forget to invite us to the wedding.
Logan:Bye Sally.
* * *
The Monday after a game was always busy at the office. Logan didn’t have time to be distracted, so it was particularly irritating that he thought about Jeni at least once every ten minutes.
Jeni’s frown.
