"Ellie, do you really need... all of these?" By the hesitation in Logan's voice, I knew he'd chosen his words carefully. However, he referenced my most treasured possessions.

While most girls had clothes upon clothes, shoes, or electronics, I seemed to have inherited Mom's love of cooking gadgets. With UW's amazing library system, I'd left all my books at home. Unfortunately, with studying, my pile of reading books was smaller than I preferred and most often nonexistent.

"Careful!" My eyes widened at the mandolin slicer in his hands. "That's really sharp."

"So... you brought death equipment," he teased but gently set the slicer down on the counter. What little surface space we'd had was taken up by my crockpot, InstaPot, Ninja blender, dutch oven, pots, slicers, pans, and giant basket of utensils.

"Mom went a little overboard last year," I confessed with a lopsided smile. Sophomore year, when Charlie and I moved off campus into a notably larger apartment, Mom binged on a mini-shopping spree for everything kitchen-related she'd thought I'd needed. "But our kitchen is the size of a shoebox."

"It is really cramped," Logan admitted. He leaned against the back wall by the fridge, which was oddly across from the stove. He straightened up, extended both arms, and easily touched both side's upper kitchen cabinets with his fingertips. My smile widened at the amused look on his face.

"Oh, it gets better." He leaned over and dropped the oven door open, then opened the fridge door and banged them together. "Figured this would annoy you pretty quickly."

"So..." I stared at the doors connected at his shins. Mom had cooked the veggie lasagna last night but I hadn't been in the kitchen much until now. "I have to open and close one, then the other?"

"Pretty much." He closed the fridge then the oven. "That's not the worst part."

My lower lip rolled under and I bit back a smile. "I'm afraid to ask, but what's the worst part?"

"This..." He stepped towards me, slid his hands to my hips, and my functioning ability dissolved when he guided me to face the kitchen cabinets. When he squeezed past me from behind, his body brushed up against my entire body. Since he'd turned sideways, I definitely felt his pelvis pushed into my backside.

Oh my.

I gasped quietly from his warmth pressed against me and how he pinned me into the countertops. The closeness hadn't stiffened my spine like a board, but instead the waves of comfort that radiated from how his large frame wrapped around mine.

From a distance we must have looked like an odd pair, him a 6ft5 pile of muscles and me 5ft2 and 103 pounds, or 110 when the bloat monster visited me once a month. But somehow, we fit. The moment his hands left my hips and his arms wrapped over the length of mine, my body betrayed me. A tiny shiver erupted from between my shoulder blades and goosebumps raised on my skin's contact point with him. In reaction, I stood up straighter and leaned back into him.

"Oh..." My mind drew a complete blank, the hairs on the back of my neck tingled, and my eyes darted from each large arm on the outside of each of mine to the other.

How are his biceps now bigger than my thighs?

"I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about this when I saw the kitchen." I heard the wicked grin I imagined he wore when he took a step backwards. In one breath, both his palms planted on the counters and his arms caged around my shoulders. The hardness and warmth from his chest pushed further into my upper back as he leaned over.

His breath flowed over my right ear as he murmured, "Not actually as bad as I thought."

"Logan." Now I palmed on the counters and steadied myself against the weakness that flooded into my knees. "I - we can't, we're not -"

Suddenly, coldness rushed down my back when he pushed off and stepped away. I looked over my shoulder and watched while one of his hands raked over his hair. He truly sounded guilty when he said, "I'm... sorry, Ellie. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable."

"Not uncomfortable, just dial down the flirting, Casanova." I turned around and gave him a smile. "And I won't hold it against you."

At my joke, he looked down at me with a sheepish smile, then silently nodded.

"Well, sorry for all the kitchen crap," I said quietly, even though secretly I wasn't sorry because I really used everything in here. "But I think... we actually should talk about some... boundaries. Rules."

He nodded silently again and the tug of his mouth into one corner verified that the thought had crossed his mind. We abandoned the kitchen and again sat on our uncomfortable sofa.

"I'm glad that this thing is getting replaced. Where did it come from?" I squirmed uncomfortably as my shoulder blades pressed into a spring. His long legs extended forward halfway through the living room space while I tucked one of mine under the other knee and turned towards him.

"No idea." His shoulders lifted casually. "It was here when I got here, along with the dining room table. The only thing I brought was my bed for us to sleep in and dresser."

"Your bed!?" My voice squeaked out higher than I was comfortable with. "You just assumed we'd sleep in your bed together?"

"It's only a one bedroom." His shoulders lifted casually. "But since my bed takes up almost the entire room and yours went home... How else are we going to consummate our marriage?"

He did not just suggest... he did.

"You're shameless." My eyes practically bugged out of their sockets.

"Just teasing." His lips curled up into a smirk. "But you're welcome any -"

"Don't even think about finishing that sentence," I warned him with an icy glare. "My dad bought the air mattress for a reason."

"Well, about that." He pointed behind the sofa, where the mattress was propped against the wall. "It won't fit in the bedroom. So you take my bed, I'll sleep out here."

"I can't do that," I scoffed. "You need sleep for your games and stuff. Your own Mom said you're a bear when grumpy."

"You need sleep for class," he frowned.

"My classes are all in the mornings," I reminded him while the memory of his post-workout naps flashed in my mind. "And you need sleep for class and football. I'm not going to have the entire football team, student body, and most importantly, myself endure your wrath from lack of sleep."

"I do not have..." He paused for a moment. I cocked my head sideways and he relented, "I do get a little grouchy without sleep. But Ellie -"

"But nothing Logan." I gave him a look that this discussion was over. "Just don't be creepy and spy on me while I'm sleeping."

My words earned me a devious smirk. "Define creepy."

"Logan!" I swatted one palm into his closest bicep.

"Fine, fine," he growled. "But, for the record, I don't like that you have to sleep on an air mattress."

"It's just for two weeks, until the new sofa is here," I replied, although honestly I hated the idea too. The mattress took up what little open floor space we had in the living room.

"Fine. But please at least use half the bedroom closet," he offered. "It's still empty."

"No way." My ponytail hit the sides of my face as I shook my head forcefully. I pointed one finger at a doorway near the front door. "I'm using the coat closet. My clothes are not going to smell like your stinky jock strap and I flash you a free show every time I need to undress."

"You sure about that, baby?" My eyes snapped back to his face at the word again. He swallowed tightly and his eyes dropped lower like he hadn't meant that slip-up either.

Twice now. Worst part is it doesn't actually bother me.

I pushed myself off the sofa, walked over the hall closet, then groaned after I got a breath of his already stinky gym bag. I looked down and there it sat on the floor, zipper opened to air things out.

"You'll get used to my manly smell." He smirked at me from the sofa. "You used to like how I smelled."

"On you, sure. My clothes however, do not need to smell like Bengay and Tinactin." I turned my head over my shoulder and winked at him. He had a point though, I had always liked the way Logan smelled. He didn't wear cologne or aftershave, just smelled like fresh scented soap and deodorant. Like most girlfriends, I was also guilty when I'd stolen his T-shirts and hoodies.

"No stealing my shirts," he followed my thought process. "Even if you looked sexier in them than me."

"Logan." I frowned at the flirtiness in his tone, gingerly sat on the sofa as far from him as I could, then rolled my eyes at the loud squeak when I sank down. "Ugh, I'll be happy when you and Wes take this to the dumpster."

"I'd be happy if we just threw it down the stairs." He didn't blink while he added, "Makes my ass fall asleep."

"We can pick up the new one in two to three weeks," I informed him.

"Pick up?" His eyebrows arched at me. "You're going to strap a whole sofa on the top of your clown car?"

"If you still have it, I was thinking we could use your cliché football player's truck." I scowled at his reference to my cute but tiny, pale yellow Volkswagen Beetle. "Since your ass is affected too."

"I appreciate that concern for my ass." His mouth corners curled up and a glint appeared in his eyes. "And don't diss my truck, we had some good -"

"Rules Logan." I clamped my palm over his mouth before he finished that thought. His eyes burned a deep blue color at my contact, then flooded one shade darker. As heat crept up the back of my neck, I removed my hand quickly.

I knew exactly what he'd referred to, how we'd taken his truck to Homecoming at both our schools. We hadn't gone as far as most couples probably would've done those evenings, but we'd definitely had... fun.

A sense of guilt bubbled up in my stomach when I remembered when Logan had told me he'd loved me. At the time, the circumstances were horrible but his sentiments were real. My expression must have changed because he quickly changed the subject, "So, rules?"

After I nodded, both of us opened our mouths and we spoke at the same time.

"I should do the cooking." "No guys."

My eyes flipped open wide and this time my palm clamped over my mouth. Logan's eyes immediately averted from mine and his hand scrubbed the back of his neck as an uncomfortable silence sandwiched between us again.

"What!?" A high pitched squeak that didn't seem like it came from me broke the silence first.

"Uhh..." His nose cringed slightly and, for once, he didn't look cocky and confident. "I meant, I uhh, don't think it's a good idea for us to bring other people back here."

"Goes both ways." My eyes narrowed at him. "No football groupies, no drunk sorority girls, no bimbo fangirls, no sleazy -"

"You're so judgmental." His eyebrows creased together while his eyes searched mine. "But I don't want to hear you getting it on with some dude on an air mattress."

A bitterness I didn't know I still held onto slipped out when I retorted, "Says the guy who brought a bed that he's been with other girls in."

"I never had anyone else in my bed." His voice dropped to a softer, almost wistful tone. He didn't have to say the words 'You were the only one' because the heaviness in his eyes gave away his thoughts.

Instantly, I regretted how I'd blurred the friendship line between us. "I shouldn't have brought it up." I shook my head. "I'm sorry, it's not my business anymore. No bringing other people home, check. Next, I think I should do all the cooking, if you're okay with that."

"How would I not be okay with that?" His grin stretched widely into his cheeks. "You're the best cook I know. I'm pretty demanding though."

"I know." I vaguely remembered his detailed meal plans. "But it's probably good practice for me to do a meal plan for my Sports Nutrition class. Besides, you can't be worse than Darrius."

No one can be worse than the guy whose mom overnights biscuits made from lard.

"You're not going to experiment on me again, are you?" His eyes rolled but a playful smile played on his lips. My eyes lingered on them and a slight shudder tickled between my shoulder blades at the memory of what they felt like against mine.

Stop it Ellie.

I pursed my lips and dragged my eyes away before he noticed my lack of self-control or I panted like a dog in heat, whichever happened first. And if he had noticed, fortunately he didn't say anything, so I admitted, "It's the least I can do, since your scholarship reduced my rent so much... and otherwise I'd be homeless."

"Absolutely." When I looked back, he flashed me a charming smile.

"Perfect. I hate dishes," I said to the living room more than Logan. "And there's no dishwasher, so..."

"You cook, I'll do the dishes," he replied easily, which snapped my eyes back to his expression but he looked serious. "And obviously I'll pay for my own food, we'll use my Huskies card."

"That's right, I forgot." Now my lips curled up at him and a teasing tone slipped into my voice. "You eat the daily equivalent of a small family."

"What can I say?" He matched my smirk with a dazzling one of his own. At this point I wouldn't have been surprised if he puffed up like a peacock, but thankfully he restrained himself. But not before he added, "Takes a lot of fuel to power these muscles."

"You do look... different." My eyes glanced over his appearance as casually as I could, although the heart beat that hammered in my chest told me I was anything but smooth. Even through the slack of his T-shirt, his muscular physique was obvious.

"Worked out a lot the past two years," was the casual response accompanied with a shrug. His smirk faded and he said quietly, "I had a lot of... motivation."

"Well, dig deep and tap into that motivation." I reached over and tapped his forehead with my index finger. "For the dishes. You'll do them right away, right? No waiting until days later, okay?"

"Promise." He held up one palm and put the other on his chest. "Scouts honor."

"You were never a scout." I lifted my hand again but he caught my wrist. His eyes burned brightly at me and I'd forgotten how easily lost I fell into them. The warmth from his palm sent tingles down the inside of my wrist and again, the air between us charged with tension. His eyes shifted over to his grasp and, within a blink, he released my wrist and folded his hand into his lap.

Snap out of it, Ellie. Platonic roommate now.

Platonic, breathtakingly handsome roommate.

My hypersensitive self awareness about how attractive he was and our close proximity started to feel slightly uncomfortable. I was relieved when he changed the subject, until he opened his mouth and said, "I missed you, Ellie."

"Logan -" I started quietly.

"I just mean as... friends," the strangled way his voice said that word made it sound foreign to him. "Talking, joking. I missed that."

"C'mon." I rolled my eyes. "It's definitely weird, but we can try to be friends."

"With benefits?" His eyebrows wiggled at me. Just like that, his sincerity had evaporated into a mist of cockiness.

"Pretty sure my roommate said no getting it on with someone on the air mattress," I giggled. "Have you never been friends with a girl?"

"Plenty," he threw me a smirk.

No part of me trusted his smirk, so I challenged, "Like who."

A hand raked through his hair told me I was right, as was his pathetically offered, "Uhh, Ava?"

"Friends and teammates' girlfriends don't count," I teased.

He threw me a strange look, a mix like he wanted to say more but also a weighted guilt since I'd called him out, then changed the subject "So... Any other rules? I think we should trade schedules, just so we know where we are."

"Yeah, I work sixteen hours a week at the library plus tutoring but no one needs that the first week of school," I admitted with a sigh. "I'm pretty quiet but I do a few things for Ellie's Kitchen on weekends. But I'd like to know your class and game schedules so I can make you stuff that you can just reheat whenever you're done."

"Sounds great." He threw me a dazzling grin. "Anything else?"

"Not that I can think of." I shook my head slowly and tried to remember any of my and Charlie's rules but drew a blank. "We both have homework and studying. Umm... Keep it clean, just be respectful, and we might make it through the semester without killing each other."

"What?" Logan's wide eyes stared at me like I'd grown another head.

"Might make it without... killing each other..." I repeated slowly. "Why?"

His mouth stretched into a grin that no part of me trusted. "That's not what you said."

Now my eyes were wide. "What?"

He threw a few chuckles in my direction. "You said kissing each other."

"Oh gosh." My fingers flew to my mouth. "I did not!"

"It's okay." He threw me another knee-weakening smirk before he lifted himself off the sofa. As my cheeks flushed warm at that idea, he leaned forwards and hovered his face so close that our cheeks almost brushed against each other. My breath hitched as his mouth hovered near my ear and his warm breath washed goosebumps down the side of my neck.

One of his fingers slipped a strand of hair behind my ear and he murmured, "Because there's no way I can promise I won't do that either."

He pulled back, gave me a tiny wink with his own finger tap into my forehead, then headed back into the kitchen. Based on the rustling sounds, I assumed that he'd gone back to unpacking but my brain had just been fried into mush. I just sat there, speechless, my heart thundered loudly in my ears, and held my forehead into my hands.

I'm in so much over my head here.