"Hey James, Sarah," I greeted my fellow library information desk student workers.

James was a junior like me while Sarah was a senior who half the time acted like she was our supervisor. Her most striking feature were her green eyes which, combined with her pale skin and pixie-short, auburn-colored hair, commanded attention with just one snap of her eyes.

"Hi Ellie!" James greeted me with a wide, toothy smile. Sarah flashed a wave hello, then continued pushing a large cart of books behind the desk and in the direction of the elevator.

I worked as a part-time aide in Suzzallo and Allen Library, one of the most beautiful libraries in my biased opinion. The exterior maintained the same Gothic details as some of the other UW buildings but the interior looked straight out of JK Rowling's imagination. The upstairs reading room was literally nicknamed 'The Harry Potter Room,' with its voluminous arched ceilings, stained glass windows, and dramatic black circular chandeliers.

Since the library took my breath away every time I entered, I also held my one-on-one tutoring sessions there. At Charlie's urging, freshman year I applied for and was accepted into the Huskies' student athlete tutoring program, which is how I knew some of the guys on the football team.

The library's minimum wage pay came with long and boring hours but at least I smelled normal afterwards and did homework during the slower times. Tutoring paid three times as much per hour and involved much fewer hours but I did what I could that suppressed my mounting student debt as much as possible.

Like living in the smallest apartment Charlie could find with a giant frame football player.

"Good first week?" James asked while I slipped into the chair next to him behind the desk, then dropped its height so my feet touched the floor.

"Yup, you?" I dropped my backpack at my feet then glanced around. Usually the first week the library was quite full with activity but today looked pretty dead.

"Yeah. By the way, the football pep rally is tomorrow night." He shrugged his shoulders like he cared less.

"Oh," I replied flatly. I already knew that but was surprised Logan hadn't mentioned it to me.

Maybe he thought I wouldn't be interested but it's literally on our doorstep here.

During the football season and before every home football game, UW's massive-sized marching band and cheer squad all dressed up in their purple, white, and gold uniforms or some crazy themed costumes and paraded through the entire campus in preparation for the football game the following day. They started in the North Campus dorms then people flooded around them down the surrounding streets, danced, and sang along the way. The Husky Band played their compilation of fan's favorite songs, which included the band's dynasty song 'Tequila.' Of all places, every time they stopped on the steps of the very library James and I now stood in with a wild pep rally.

I shouldn't joke but that's the closest some of those football players get to using the library.

"So..." James ran one of his hands through his brown curls then smiled down at me. "Did you reconsider the Meany exhibit?"

"Umm..." Dr. Sterns' words about platonic dates echoed through my mind. I'd originally planned to ask Logan but the idea of a date with him intimidated me more than anyone else because he was the only guy I had any feelings for.

Maybe if I practice with James? He's just a friend, it'll help my nerves.

"Sure." I leaned on the counter and smiled. "As long as we're just going as friends, right?"

"Friends," he echoed in a voice that sounded slightly deflated, but pulled a tight-lipped smile on his face then nodded. "Of course. This weekend?"

"This weekend..." I paused for a moment, then pulled one of my notebooks out of my backpack. "Friday night I'm having dinner with Charlie, Saturday's a night football game, then Sunday I have something with my roommate."

Guess gut-spilling emotions counts as something.

"Next week then?" He suggested. After I nodded silently, he smiled and offered, "Tuesday after work? Unless you want to do Saturday, which I think is an away game."

"Tuesday," I replied quickly. No part of me wanted James in our apartment when Logan wasn't there because I wanted the fact that there was nothing romantic between me and James to be one-thousand percent clear to Logan.

Rules are rules. Besides, he'll understand that James and I are just friends. We'll just leave from here -

"Give me your address and I'll pick you up at your place," he added. "I'm done an hour before you here and that way we don't have to carry our books."

I blinked a few times, then realized he was probably right.

With my clumsiness, I'd probably knock over a sculpture with my backpack or something.

"I'm in the Duchess apartments, three-oh-four," I replied with a smile I hoped conveyed I looked forward to this. Despite how we'd worked together for two years and had amazing book-related conversations, I actually knew very little about him past the surface.

For the next three and a half hours of my work shift, James and I alternated between how we checked out students' books, restacked returned books, separated making out couples in the private study rooms, and shared our class experiences so far. We had to keep a close eye on one particular room because the security camera was broken, and by the steamy sessions I'd interrupted at least, that was common knowledge.

In a forehead-slapping moment, I'd walked in on one couple who'd gotten as far as their shirts off and snapped, "Get a room!"

"We had one," the guy grumbled, but I rolled my eyes and pointed to their exit direction.

James was an English Literature major so we also traded back and forth a few debates because he personally thought Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights was superior to Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre and... I thought he was wrong.

After we agreed to disagree, I spent the last thirty minutes of free time in my work shift and texted back and forth with Monique. Momma Williams had in fact sent over some recipes to Darrius.

True to our promise, Monique only read some off recipes on the phone to me, while I jotted down some ingredient swap ideas then texted her back. I wasn't sure if some of them worked, especially the biscuit recipe's lard substitutes, but Monique said she'd try her best over the weekend. We planned that we'd reconvene Monday after Darrius' practice after my library shift ended.

While I knew today was probably the lowest number of intimate couples we'd interrupted, thankfully my first work shift had gone smoothly, quickly, and painlessly. James' shift ended an hour before mine, so I just waved my hand at Sarah then headed home.

Home.

The thought put a smile on my face while I walked out.

The rest of the week, Logan and I fell into a routine pretty quickly. Our morning class schedules were the same, we ate mostly leftovers and had simple, pleasant conversations at the table. I knew Logan wanted to know more about my conversation with Dr. Sterns but thankfully he hadn't pressed me at all. I simultaneously appreciated his sensitivity and felt the weight of the upcoming conversation the more I delayed it.

Sunday. I'll wait until after his first game.

Again, Logan and Emmitt embarrassingly sandwiched me during Thursday's Human Anatomy class, despite two open seats on either side of them. By now, some of the girls had gotten bolder, including Amy, who'd invited both to her sorority's party tonight before the opening game on Saturday. I don't think she wanted to invite me, but my invitation was assumed based on my lecture seat proximity.

UW's party scene wasn't what I'd expected. Most of the fraternity and sorority parties were on Tuesday and Thursdays and students in the business school didn't have Friday classes. There were parties on weekends, especially after football wins, but they were quieter and more intimate because the local Washington students, at least those in the dorms, went home for home cooked meals and laundry services.

Personally, I hadn't contributed to U-Dub's social scene at all. Charlie and Wes always went out on Saturdays while I stayed in with the quiet comforts of home.

"You should come," Amy batted her eyes at both boys while I leaned over, pretended I adjusted my bags, and tried not to puke on my shoes. "We'll take care of you boys before the big game."

I snorted quietly, then covered it up with a few coughs. Amy was in Zeta Tau Epsilon, the most promiscuous sorority on Greek Row.

And out of sixteen of them, that's saying something.

The girls were known for, among other things, stuffing their phone numbers into the guy's pockets during the pregame parade. By the end, a few even pulled them all out and compared who'd scored more numbers for bragging rights.

"Sure, Zeta parties are the best," Emmitt accepted her invitation but thankfully, in a move I nearly kissed him again for, Logan politely declined with a silent shake of his head.

Once back at the apartment, I set up and copied the rest of my Human Anatomy notes while Logan read the next two assigned chapters, then handed me the textbook. I nodded thanks, went into the kitchen, and got started on lunch and dinner.

I pulled out my crockpot, lined the insert with a liner, and put in the second whole chicken roaster we'd bought at the grocery store Monday night.

Where I had kissed him. What had gotten into me?

I knew that I had no claim on Logan, he was as single as I was, but boy how some of the more desperate girls flung themselves at him bothered me. Jealousy wasn't the only feeling that burned in me, I was borderline insulted on Logan's behalf.

On the other hand, I mean, just look at him...

My cheeks warmed at the memory of my lips on his cheek, but fortunately things hadn't felt too awkward since. Logan had been a perfect gentleman in class, despite how he'd half sat on top of me and Emmitt the other half.

He's definitely distracted in the kitchen though.

My skin tingled at just the memory of his weighted gaze on me and the warmth of his hand on my side when I'd climbed on to the counter to reach the cabinets. I knew he internally tortured himself about something because his dilated pupils gave him away and couldn't help but teased if he was hungry.

Maybe he needs two boxes of condoms for a reason. Wouldn't be the only person in my life with a high sex drive.

I shook my distracted head, grabbed a jar of salsa from the fridge, and dumped it on top of the chicken. Once everything was cooked, the shredded chicken worked over quinoa, which we had leftover from last night's dinner, in burritos, or even just by itself. The salsa kept the chicken really moist so I planned to stuff it in enchiladas for Friday night.

Normally I just used chicken breasts but with Mister Five Thousand calories, another whole chicken was sacrificed. I'd chopped some onions and red, yellow, and orange peppers, then tossed them in the crockpot when Logan stepped into the kitchen.

"Dinner," I explained and followed his eyes around the disaster I'd made in the process. "And lunch tomorrow."

"You're lucky you're cute," he muttered, grabbed a few dishes, and put them next to the sink. With a sigh, he filled up the sink with water and soap. "I'm beginning to regret this dishes offer. I didn't know you used every bowl in here every time."

"No renigging," I teased from the fridge. With a smile, I grabbed a bottom round roast from the fridge, another large meat purchase, and an armful of veggies from the fridge.

"This'll be worth it," I promised while I heated some olive oil in a pan. Once it sizzled, I browned the roast on each side and set it aside. While more onions and some minced garlic sautéd in the pan, I chopped up sweet potatoes, celery, and carrots, then mixed in some peas and white mushrooms.

"If you say so." Logan eyed the bowl of brightly colored vegetables with suspicion. "For the record, I'm not a fungus guy."

"They were in the omelette Monday," I pointed out. "And burritos you've had every morning since then."

"I couldn't find them," he replied, which prompted a giggle from me since I had chopped them pretty small.

"I left these whole so if you don't like them then just pick them out and I'll eat them," I promised.

My lips twitched because I'd read about the trick of cutting up vegetables into unidentifiable, small pieces and hiding them in foods for picky toddlers. After I dusted flour over the roast, I placed it into the bottom of the InstaPot.

Logan finished the dishes, then turned and leaned against the sink counter and watched while I tore around the kitchen for the knives. My cheeks warmed slightly under the attention, so I just kept my eyes on my cuts then dropped the veggies into the InstaPot and set it for twenty minutes.

Logan groaned loudly when I dumped another set of dishes into his sink water, but I just patted him on the back and flashed him an appreciative smile. For a slight moment, I leaned against his arm, then giggled when he sighed and turned the sink back on.

Like I said, I could get used to this setup.