An older gentleman greets us when we walk inside. He asks if we need any help, but we decline. I wander over to the wall of paint chips, already overwhelmed by all the choices. I’m browsing pretty sage greens while Logan types away on his phone, most likely texting my brother.
He chuckles, takes a few photos of paint chips, then goes back to texting. “Reed says he wants blue. Gray blue. Like this one.” He plucks a paint chip off the wall and holds it out toshow me. It’s a nice color, and it’s very Reed. “Do you think two gallons is enough?”
“I have no idea.” I’ve never actually painted a house or apartment. My parents had everything decorated so nicely in our house growing up that there was no way I was going to change anything after they died, and the college rental Noah and I shared had rules against repainting the walls.
Logan shrugs, looping an arm around my waist. “We can always come back for more. What about you? See anything you like?”
“Maybe this sage for the living room?” It’s a calming color, and it should go with everything we have. Even though everything is a hodge-podge mess of contrasting styles.
“And for your bedroom?”
“Oh. I… I don’t know. I guess I hadn’t really thought about that.” And I’m not sure I can afford it. The paint place Logan brought us to isn’t cheap. Sure, their paint is supposed to be high quality, but we’re existing on a mid-level-at-best quality budget. Getting the paint for the living room and Reed’s bedroom is going to set me back, and this is an expense I wasn’t planning for.
I guess I really am going to have to start doing some gig work. It can’t be that bad to deliver food to people, right?
“What about this color?” Logan pulls a gorgeous shade of purple off the wall. It’s a muted dusty mauve. Somehow, this man picked a color I’d happily choose, like it was nothing.
“That’s really pretty. I honestly love it.”
“See anything you like better?” He studies me while I study the wall of paint chips.
“No, I really don’t.”
“Great.” Logan smiles brightly and waves the associate over. They talk about how the size of the rooms, paint finishes,supplies we’ll need, but I’m not really listening. I’m too busy stressing about how I’m going to pay for all of this.
“Awesome. Thanks, man. Here you go.”
I blink and look over as Logan hands the man a black card.
“Wait, what are you doing?”
My Viking looks confused. “Paying? Stores frown upon just grabbing what you want and walking out with it.”
“But why areyoupaying for it?”
He cocks his head to the side, still looking adorably confused. I want to be irritated with him, but his expression makes that hard. “Because this was my idea, and you agreed to be my girlfriend, which means I get to spoil you now?”
I’m completely speechless. I’ve been his girlfriend for all of a few hours, and he’s confused about why I’m not comfortable with him spending hundreds of dollars on paint and supplies? “Logan, I don’t need you to pay for stuff. And I certainly don’t expect it.”
“I know.” He pulls me closer, his stubbled jaw twitching into a smile. “But you’re going to let me do it anyway because it makes me happy.”
“I…” I have no idea how to respond to that.
“Exactly. Now, quit trying to fight me on this. Let’s go watch him use the paint-shaking machine. It’s kind of fun.”
An hour and a half later,and we’re back in my apartment, putting down tarps and taping off doorframes. And it’s not just us. There are four other giant hockey players and three very excited women filling up every inch of space as they all laugh and banter among themselves while pouring paint into trays and unwrapping paintbrushes.
How is this real life?
“I like this color,” Griffin says as he eyes the sage green I chose for the living room. “Maybe we should paint a room this color, wifey.”
Mira smiles at her husband indulgently. “Sure, babe.”
They’re so cute together. It’s obvious how much Griffin adores his wife. The same goes for Maddox and Isla and Ryder and Lexi, for that matter. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such happy couples. Could that really be Logan and me?
“So,” Lexi says, sidling up beside me. “This is a fun impromptu painting party. I’m glad we were all free.”
“Yeah, thank you for coming. It was definitely a spur-of-the-moment thing.”
