Savannah:
Are you still there?
Logan:
Why? Need your incredibly helpful assistant?
Savannah:
I’m not letting you anywhere near my food, or your teammates might be afraid to eat it.
That loose piece of soul inside me juts out a little farther, and I rub my chest as if that might push it back into place. Savannah Blair might be starting to like me, but it appears I have a long way to go if I want to turn her ‘maybe’ into a sure thing. As much as I shouldn’t want her to like me, I do.
And I might want a little more than justlike.
Logan:
Then I guess I’ll have to settle for being a spectator like I was this weekend.
Fine by me. I’m getting fond of that view.
Chapter 15
Savannah
Firstofall,Imight be a little bit in love with the LA Thunder rugby team. I wasn’t sure what to expect, with only Moxie and Logan as my baselines, but overall they’re a bunch of loveable goofballs who are way too impressed by basic tamales. They’ve been incredibly friendly and welcoming since Mr. Evanson—Cole—sent them inside after their practice to meet me and grab a meal, and I’ve never seen so many beautiful muscles in one place before. Nor have I ever been flirted with so mercilessly. I could definitely get used to this.
Second of all, there’s a chance, however small, I might also be a little bit in love with Logan Callahan.
No, love is too strong a word, and he would run for the hills if he caught wind of me thinking it. But on Friday I started to like Logan, on Saturday I spent too much time admiring how soft he is with my cat, and on Sunday I almost mauled him with a kiss when he let me into his apartment and told me I had free rein over his kitchen whenever I wanted. His kitchen, which is as big and beautiful as he is.
And tonight, as I stand behind a serving table in the Thunder’s break room, all I can think about is how my feelings have shifted from mild interest to wondering what he’s thinking every time I look at him. Imagining myself wrapped up in his arms because I just know he gives thebesthugs. Anyone can see that by simply looking at him, and I’ve done plenty of that tonight because he makes it impossible not to be aware of him at all times.
While the team was out practicing, Logan stood in the facility kitchen doorway and watched me make a few dozen chicken tamales, which was frankly so distracting on its own that I almost forgot to add the filling to half of them. I didn’t even care.
Then there was thetalking. Making little comments and questions about what I was doing, and telling me stories about moving to Australia when he was four and feeling like he was entirely out of place until he discovered rugby when he was seven. I swear, if the team didn’t interrupt when they did, I was going to lose my mind trying to resist this man who before now has generally kept his actual personality to himself like a closely guarded secret.
Something changed at that event on Friday. Whatever it was, it’s been pulling an invisible string between Logan and me tighter and tighter until it feels like it’s either going to snap and leave us flat on the floor, or we won’t be able to fight it any longer. Regardless, it sounds painful in the end.
If I’m bound for chaos one way or another, at least tonight’s dinner went smoothly, and I can breathe now that it’s over.
Most of the players have finished their food and headed out, leaving the break room comparatively calm and quiet after so much noise. Cole looks content as he chats in the corner with Moxie and the trainer, Mel, which hopefully means I did well with this trial run. The few remaining guys are talking and laughing at one of the tables, one of them eyeing the leftover tamales like he might snag another. And Logan…
I shiver when my eyes catch on Logan across the room, where he’s been standing against the wall all night. He ignored his teammates, which doesn’t surprise me, but it’s weird that he hasn’t come over to my table since the team came in. After all the attention he gave me while I was cooking, his sudden indifference feels odd.
Indifferencemight not be the right word. There were a few times while I was chatting with the Thunder that I looked up to find him scowling.
Almost like he didn’t like the way I was laughing with his teammates.
Ha! As if Logan would be jealous over me. That’s about as ridiculous as my cat being in love with a full-grown man.
My stomach does a little swivel as I wipe up a bit of oil with a rag to give myself a reason to look away from Logan. Beef Wellington has been pretty darn happy these last few days.
“It’s Savannah, right?” The player who keeps looking at the leftover food comes up to me, one hand rubbing the back of his neck as he gives me a shy smile. He’s shorter than most of the other players but still packed with muscle, like they all are.
I return his smile with one of my own. “Yep! Still hungry?”
“Oh. Uh, no. Well, yeah, but that’s not…” At the sound of snickering behind him, he turns to glare at his teammates before looking back at me and dropping his arm. “Moxie said you make stuff for people to cook at home.”
