"Hi Kade," I offered the tall, stocky guy who looked up to me with a grin as I slid into a seat across from him. "Got the message."

"Yeah, sorry," his dark brown eyes flashed with slight remorse and his grin faded. "I just know I'll be having trouble in my English writing class, so I put in for a tutor early."

"No problem," I assured him and set my bag down on the floor next to my chair. "What's your first assignment?"

"Ahh, actually would you mind sitting next to me?" He pointed down at the open notebook in front of him, which had a few lines scribbled on it already. "I started but it's total shit."

"I doubt that," I assured him as I stood up, walked around one of the giant, thick tables in the library's upstairs room where I held all my tutoring sessions, and took the seat next to him. "Let's see."

I glanced down at his notebook, which had some leading sentences that looked like he attempted to write an exposition essay on...

"Assisted reproductive technology?" I couldn't have lifted my eyebrows higher at the subject.

Kade shrugged his large shoulders, then ran one hand through his jet-black hair and offered, "We were told to pick a subject out of our comfort zone."

"Okay then..." I skimmed over his only complete sentence with a neutral expression, although his injected opinions about 'natural parents' twitched my mouth sideways. "I guess this is a start but instead of just opinions, you should provide some more context of the problem, including the background which I assume are the underlying causes of why people need this, and reference some scientific papers or at least medical opinions to back up your claims."

He sat back in his seat in silence. Only his eyes moved while they darted over his own words. I'd helped Kade last year but the guy's ego could've filled this entire space. Just the fact he'd asked for assistance so early in the semester was progress but he still had a few bites of humble pie left.

"Can you help me with that?" He asked quietly, almost timidly.

"Of course, good thing you have someone who works in a library." I smiled what I hoped looked encouraging and, by the way his hunched up shoulders relaxed slightly, he believed me at least somewhat. His eyes widened with confusion when I stood up, grabbed my backpack, then waved for him to follow me.

"Journals," was all I said and led him out of the study room.

More information about artificial inseminations and invitro fertilizations that I had no idea about prior to our research, Kade had enough that he'd removed his personal opinions from his essay and finished a rough draft. I told him he still needed it cleaned up, at least to where the paragraphs flowed together better, but I offered to read it again before he handed it in Friday.

"I'll email you the final draft, thanks Ellie," his deep voice softened with humility. While I hadn't expected we delved into the inner workings of male and female reproductive anatomy, he'd taken the assignment seriously. He put in the time and effort and I couldn't have asked for more.

After a more than awkward hug that I assured him wasn't necessary because I only did my job, I walked back to the apartment. While the night air wrapped around me, I appreciated the quiet outside atmosphere that greeted me outside the library. The silence was short-lived in how I hadn't gotten down many of the library steps when my phone rang.

"Hey girlie!" Charlie's bright voice rang into my ear.

"Hey, how are you?" I asked once I reached the bottom of the steps since, with me at least, stairs and a distracted phone conversation was a recipe that I tripped and face planted.

"Sitting here with a couple of whiny babies soaked up to their chins in ice," she replied with a quiet giggle. "Well, they're in the other room. I can only take so much of the game play dissections."

"I get it," I replied with a smile, although she couldn't see it. Despite how my brother had been football-obsessed since he was seven and I'd gone to many of his and Logan's games, where he ran trick play circles around the other teams, I still knew very little about the details.

"Sorry about bailing on yoga tomorrow. I miss our girl time together!" she echoed sentiments I felt as well. "Even just talking. Wes' conversations are... I'll go with different. Last night he tried to explain differences in muscle relaxant and jock itch creams because heaven forbid I'd given him a stronger one."

"I get it." I understood from the years I lived with Jake, but Logan was actually a very good roommate. His football bag still stunk up the front closet but he was pretty clean, very studious, and still kept up on his dishes duty. With the exception of his feelings and reactions about football, he also left those details on the field.

At least, our dinner conversations thankfully are not about muscle relaxers and jock itch cream.

"So why am I hearing from anyone else that you were at a Zeta party?" I couldn't blame Charlie for the shock I heard in her voice.

I snorted into my phone. "Definitely not there for a party, I... got Logan out of there."

She inhaled sharply, then replied, "So let me change that. Why the hell was Logan there?"

"I think he got pulled in, he was walking around to cool off after..." I rolled my lip under but deserved the confessional embarrassment. "After James thought our date was romantic."

"Oh Ellie, I'm sorry." Charlie sounded genuinely sorry, which I appreciated.

"I'm so stupid, Charlie. He kissed me in the apartment hallway. Logan saw it, got mad, and left," I explained. "In a possible stalker move, I chased after him, apologized, and..."

My cheeks warmed at the full extent of my apology. Logan and I had talked about our physical intimacy this morning. He had given me a disapproving frown last night when I slept on the sofa, which wasn't as comfortable as his bed but so much better than the air mattress, but he only silently retreated to bed.

"Whatever that and part is, you are not going to leave ot off, Ellie!" Charlie laughed but, thankful we discussed this on the phone, I only pressed my lips together tightly until she relented, "Just tell me if any kissing was involved. I'm one creepy neighbor's ear pressed against your door dying to know how you're progressing on removing that ass stick."

"Yes. Well, big no on ass sticks." My cheeks burned warmer but I couldn't have stopped the smile on my face if I'd tried. "We're going on a date Friday, I'm... I need to tell him how I feel but also what happened freshman year since I wouldn't be surprised if that comes out eventually."

"It's definitely not worse than any rumors about me being pregnant," her voice was soaked in sarcasm. "Apparently that's the only reason Wes proposed."

"Oh no!" Under the filtered shadows of the cherry trees along the sidewalk back to our apartment, I gasped quietly and put my free hand against my cheek. "That's awful."

"I swear some people talk because they have nothing better to do," she sighed quietly. "You're lucky your only social media account is your cooking blog."

"At the risk I don't pay much attention or hear rumors, it cuts out a lot of stress," I admitted how happy I was that my social media footprint was small.

"Somehow I doubt Logan will care either way," she offered. "But probably best he hears from you than, oh evil-bitchface-slut Lydia."

"I'd say I was surprised that she was into him but I'm not," I replied flatly, turned onto the street, and paused at the small group of people gathered on the sidewalk outside our apartment building. Fortunately, after a few glances at me, they quickly looked away, and I entered the building in silence.

"Can't blame him, Logan's pretty attractive..." Charlie's voice faded into giggles. "Especially now with the new billboard, Wes was grumbling earlier today how he'd been replaced."

"There's another one?" I only half paid attention to this new development since I stopped at our mailbox, then frowned at the giant stack of envelopes wedged inside, plus the bigger box key that was underneath. With a sigh, I opened the bigger one and my mouth dropped open at the cardboard box inside. The box itself was open, jammed completely full of envelopes that a quick glance over showed they were all addressed to Logan.

The hell is all this? Fan mail?

While I struggled to get the box out, I barely heard her, "Oh yeah, apparently your boy is causing traffic accidents on I-5."

"Great," I muttered and heaved the box of letters into my arms. "Just great. Sorry to go but I just got home, Charlie, and apparently Logan's fan mail increased."

"Tell him to get a PO Box," she recommended. "Wes had to get one when girls started sending me stuff."

"Good idea." I sighed and trudged up the stairs. "It's not losing a bill or something important in this stuff. Thanks."

"Talk to you later, you give me those date details when you have them!" Her excitement pulled a smile on my lips, despite the stairs trip. "And be careful, I heard that there's a creepy pervert in our building. Like jerked off in the parking garage creepy."

"Right..." A loud groan escaped my lips when I got to our apartment door, where someone had hung a red, lacy bra on the handle. I wasn't at all surprised by the suggestive note attached that read there was a pair of matching underwear for him at the girl's address.

With a sigh, I dropped the box on the dining room table, threw the bra into the trash, and made quick work on dinner. Surprisingly, despite my later evening, Logan still wasn't home but the door opened just when I plated some leftovers and pushed both into the microwave.

"Hey," he mumbled in a voice that sounded exhausted, then dropped his bags near the table and eyed the box. "What's this?"

"All for you, I assume." I rolled my eyes but slid the plates onto the table. "Along with someone's bra hung on our door knob. So you might want to get a PO Box for this stuff, unless you want our regular mail swallowed up inside it."

His lips curled upwards at my words and he sat down at the table with a glint in his eyes. "How do you know the bra wasn't for you?"

"They left a note, which you can find in the trash with the bra if you're that curious," I replied dryly.

"I'm not," he assured me with an eye roll that I appreciated, then looked down at the plate of beef and veggie stir-fry that steamed into his face. "Thanks Ellie."

"I also have fruit salad in the kitchen, but dig in." I removed the fanmail box, set it on the floor, then went back into the kitchen. He'd eaten half his plate by the time I returned with one small and one gigantic bowl of berries and sat next to him. "Good day?"

"Long day," he answered in a low, strained voice that sounded exhausted.

"Fortunately for you, I already did the dishes, so it's just our plates." I patted his left shoulder, which felt tight with tension.

"You're the best." He offered me a half-grin that hadn't lifted up to his tired eyes.

"I'm not in my Statistics class," I confessed with a sigh. "The class is okay but the programming for the labs is like I'm reading a foreign language."

In hindsight, my decision to be lab partners with Jake was a terrible one. We'd both spent most of the computer lab time morning with our head cocked sideways at my laptop screen like a bad pug puppy meme.

"It's called a programming language for a reason." Logan smirked. "Which ones?"

"R and python," I groaned before I took a few bites of broccoli and cauliflower. Logan had humored me this week and eaten my cauliflower experiments, of which everything he liked except the tortillas were a giant failure. Both of us spit out the first bites, then ate our burrito contents without the shells.

I should've known, my cauliflower pizza crusts weren't ever any good either.

"I can help you with those," he offered and wiped his mouth. My eyes darted down to his plate and bowl completely emptied. "I have some books from my Stats classes somewhere, let me find it."

"Thank you." My heart warmed at the idea of how tired he was, how in demand he now was, and yet he dedicated some of his time to help me with my Statistics lab work I'd vented about. And my eyes certainly appreciated how the muscles in his shoulders and back flexed, even under his T-shirt, while he bent over our bookcase.

By the time I quickly finished dinner, washed our plates and left them on a towel to dry, Logan sat on the living room sofa. His feet were propped up in the recliner and a textbook sat on his lap, spread open to one of the first pages. Adorably though, he was completely passed out asleep.

"I'll do this tomorrow." I gently slid the book off his lap, then dragged my comforter off the back of the sofa and draped it over his large, sleeping form. A big smile spread over my lips at how instantly relaxed he looked, with his lips slightly parted and exhaled soft breaths. I couldn't resist, so I just pressed a soft kiss onto the top of his head and wished him goodnight.