Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
“Oh, um, I’m not sure,” I said, running my fingers through my hair, trying to beat him at his own game. “I guess I don’t really have any plans.”
“Then I’m buying you dinner,” Brody said simply. “It’s the least I can do as thanks for everything you’ve helped me with tonight, after all.”
Immediately my chest tightened a little. He wanted to actually go out with me?
How could I instantly be so nervous around Brody again even though I just spent the afternoon happy as a clam tutoring him? It was like I was only comfortable around new people when I was talking about school-related stuff. The moment we had acknowledged what we’d said to each other last night—drunkenly admitting that we really wanted to kiss each other—and again, the moment he invited me to dinner, my brain just went haywire.
“You don’t have to do that,” I said. “I can just heat up some ramen or something.”
“When’s the last time you ate?”
I racked my brain, which wasn’t exactly functioning at top speed right now. “I think I had a coffee this morning,” I said.
Brody lifted his eyebrows. “Put your shoes on. We’re going to Bixie’s.”
6
Brody
The crowd at Bixie’s Diner was always a little rowdy, even on a Sunday night like tonight. It was a classic KMU hang spot. The powder-blue tabletops and leather booths were iconic, and no matter what time of year it was, little white string lights illuminated the tops of all of the windows.
From the moment Logan and I walked in, groups of students, grad students, and professors had filtered in and out of the diner, getting their fix of food and milkshakes before another school week began.
We managed to snag a booth by the window as a group of sorority girls were heading out. We ordered a couple of burgers and I forced Logan to get one of the mint oreo milkshakes, because he’d never had it, it was amazing, and everybody I brought to Bixie’s had to try it at least once.
And I had needed to bring him out somewhere, otherwise I was liable to jump on him like a horny teenager back at the house.
Logan talked a whole lot about not knowing how to flirt, but whatever the hell he’d been doing back at the house definitely had gotten me rock fucking hard in the process.
But Logan wasn’t just anybody. He wasn’t a random guy in a bar. Even though every bone in my body had wanted to pull his clothes off back at home, I had held myself back. I knew I’d had to stop it cold and just take him out somewhere to get some food in his body.
Because Logan was a sweetheart.
I wasn’t.
I always treated every hookup with care, respect, and kindness, but I definitely didn’t like waking up and seeing them next to me the morning after.
I didn’t let myself get attached. I didn’t let anybody sleep next to me in bed anymore. Ever. Logan deserved somebody who could actually commit to him. We lived together, and the idea of hurting him in any way made my skin crawl. I was pretty sure he wasn’t the kind of guy who wanted a no-strings-attached fuckfest with a football player, so no matter how hard he was practicing his flirting game on me, I wasn’t going to give in.
I loved the attention. And I wanted his eyes on me. But he deserved a guy who was willing to go the whole nine yards with him. He deserved someone who was boyfriend material.
And I definitely wasn’t that.
I stared out the window at the bustling street. The sun had set, but the lamp posts on the street illuminated the fall leaves on the trees, which were now every shade from pale yellow to deep gold to fiery red. The nights were very chilly now, and everybody had started wearing coats and scarves and boots, ambling along the sidewalks as buses and cars went up and down the main street.
“This is my absolute favorite weather,” I said, gazing out the window. “Just as it starts to get cold out.”
“I love it, too.”
I was talking about the damn weather. Small talk. Something about Logan made me feel even dumber than I usually did—or maybe just like I couldn’t measure up to his intelligence. He’d been quiet on the walk down to the diner and still seemed nervous to be around me.
I still hated that I had that effect on people. I didn’t want to be intimidating, no matter what I looked like. Logan had finally seemed to be comfortable around me while we’d studied, but now his adorable awkwardness was back in full force.
Insecurity bubbled up inside me. I’d gotten so used to being confident, both with guys and out on the field. But Logan was a whole different story. I was sure he was used to talking with Danielle about various history topics when they hung out. I had always been aware that I wasn’t exactly an intellectual, but around Logan, my brain sometimes felt like a baby next to a god. He was so smart, and knew more about certain centuries than I knew about anything.