"I've never told anyone that," he said, his brows drawn in.
"What?"
"Remember how I told you that I didn't speak for a while when I was kid?"
"Yeah."
"They were trying to get me to tell them what happened, but I never did. I never told anyone. Not until you."
I took in a long slow breath. My eyes dropped from his gaze. "Why me?"
"Because, Amanda," he lifted my chin with his finger. "Because you and me—we're going to be amazing."
***
There was a banging on my door.
"Dimmy! You better not be making babies in there!"
Oh my God. "Mom! We're sleeping."
Logan's eyes snapped open. He looked from me, then to the opposite side, where Mom continued to knock. "Should I leave?" he whispered.
I shook my head.
Then the door swung open. Mom stood in the doorway, her arms crossed. "It's midday, Dimmy. Get out of bed. Were you guys having sex?"
"Oh my God," I heard him mutter. He began to blush.
"Mom!" I warned. "We're not having sex, we were sleeping."
She rolled her eyes.
"We're clothed. See?" I lifted the covers so she could see for herself.
"Shit," Logan huffed, quickly covering his hard on with his hands. He rushed to grab the blanket from my grip and covered himself. "What the hell?" he whispered to me, shaking his head, his eyes huge.
I laughed.
"It's not funny," he ground out.
Mom slowly closed the door, "Your dad sure as hell never looked that good."
The second she was out, Logan was on me. "What the hell?" he said again.
I laughed. Again.
I got out of bed and stood at the edge. "Come on, Lucas. Let me make you some breakfast."
***
Logan wanted to go to his house and speak to his dad about the whole long lost sister issue. I told him I'd wait for him in his pool house.
So that's where I was, going through his clothes and pulling out all his old sports jerseys.
He walked in a half hour later. His eyes instantly went to the pile of clothes on his bed. "You ready?" he asked, his eyes remaining on the pile.
"Nearly," I told him, packing the clothes into an old gear bag I found.
He strolled over to help me, picking up an old basketball jersey and putting it in his bag. “What are you doing?"
I shrugged, "I can't be in bed with you while wearing some other assholes jersey." I reached up and kissed him quickly
“Okay, pretty girl.”
***
I leaned over the center console and took his hand in mine. He was driving us home. "What are you going to do, Logan?"
He eyed me sideways, and then pursed his lips. "I really don't know." He shrugged. "It's not going to change with time, right? So I guess I'll just think about it, you know?"
I nodded. "Thank you, for sharing that with me. I know it must have been hard for you."
He brought our hands to his mouth, kissed the inside of my wrist, and then rested them on his lap. His shoulders lifted. "You're my person, Amanda. It's what we do, right?"
TWENTY EIGHT
Logan
It's official.
She has my balls and she's not giving them back. Ever.
It'd been a week since Amanda and I became a thing, but we've both been so busy with practice and classes and work and study that we barely had time to see each other. I was so busy doing double practice sessions because of the upcoming game, that I didn't even have time to drive her to work. I picked her up every night, but by the time we got home, we were both too tired to talk about our days, let alone fool around. I cop a tit touch every now and then, but that was as far as it went.
She asked the night we got back if I wanted to talk more about what happened when I was a kid. I said no. I also told her that no one else knew about it. Not even the adoption side. No one but Jake and Micky. It wasn't that I didn't trust anyone; I just didn't want people's pity. I especially didn't want hers. So she left it alone and hasn't asked since.
I was sitting in my bed, books all over the place, when I heard the front door slam shut, "Babe?" she yelled.
"Bed."
She came into the room, dropped her backpack to the floor and fell forward onto the bed with her head on my lap. "I'm so deliriously tired," she muffled into my leg.
I tried to contain my laugh. "Have a nap."
Her head lifted to face me so she could show me the most exaggerated eye roll ever. "If I had time to nap I wouldn't have this issue, Asshat."
"Sorry," I grimaced. "You're in a good mood."
She grunted. "I have to be at work in an hour." Her head fell back on my lap.
"Can someone cover your shift?"
"No!" she snapped.
Clearly I was an idiot for even asking.
She lifted her head again, staring at my lap for a few seconds. Then she raised her hands lazily and started to undo the drawstring of my pants. "Let's have sex," she announced through a yawn.
What? "What?" I tried to jerk my hips back but there was nowhere to go.
"I don't know," she rushed out, starting to put her hand down my pants.
I grabbed it, "What the hell are you doing?" I laughed out.
She let out a frustrated moan. "I don't know. I don't know what's happening right now. I'm so tired. Is this real life?" She pouted. She looked so damn cute. "Logan?" she sighed, flipping over and looking up at me.
I stroked her hair, trying to relax her. "Yeah?"
"Please don't be mad but I have to work during your game tomorrow. Everyone else already had tickets and I couldn't get out of it. I'm sorry. Don't hate me." Her eyes began to drift shut.
"That sucks."
"Logan?"
"Yeah?"
"Why haven't we had sex yet?"
"Because it's not just sex with you. It never will be."
TWENTY NINE
Amanda
Game days were always so busy at the bar. But today was hectic because it was the first game of the season. I tried to watch as much as I could on the big screen but I was completely distracted and useless at my job.
Everyone’s eyes were glued to the screen, Jake was pitching, and Logan was catching. It was the top of the ninth; the opposition had two outs, two strikes. This pitch could make or break their perfect game. The buzz so far was that it was the Andrews/Matthews dynamic. Personally, I just thought my boy was that fucking amazing.
"What?"
"Remember how I told you that I didn't speak for a while when I was kid?"
"Yeah."
"They were trying to get me to tell them what happened, but I never did. I never told anyone. Not until you."
I took in a long slow breath. My eyes dropped from his gaze. "Why me?"
"Because, Amanda," he lifted my chin with his finger. "Because you and me—we're going to be amazing."
***
There was a banging on my door.
"Dimmy! You better not be making babies in there!"
Oh my God. "Mom! We're sleeping."
Logan's eyes snapped open. He looked from me, then to the opposite side, where Mom continued to knock. "Should I leave?" he whispered.
I shook my head.
Then the door swung open. Mom stood in the doorway, her arms crossed. "It's midday, Dimmy. Get out of bed. Were you guys having sex?"
"Oh my God," I heard him mutter. He began to blush.
"Mom!" I warned. "We're not having sex, we were sleeping."
She rolled her eyes.
"We're clothed. See?" I lifted the covers so she could see for herself.
"Shit," Logan huffed, quickly covering his hard on with his hands. He rushed to grab the blanket from my grip and covered himself. "What the hell?" he whispered to me, shaking his head, his eyes huge.
I laughed.
"It's not funny," he ground out.
Mom slowly closed the door, "Your dad sure as hell never looked that good."
The second she was out, Logan was on me. "What the hell?" he said again.
I laughed. Again.
I got out of bed and stood at the edge. "Come on, Lucas. Let me make you some breakfast."
***
Logan wanted to go to his house and speak to his dad about the whole long lost sister issue. I told him I'd wait for him in his pool house.
So that's where I was, going through his clothes and pulling out all his old sports jerseys.
He walked in a half hour later. His eyes instantly went to the pile of clothes on his bed. "You ready?" he asked, his eyes remaining on the pile.
"Nearly," I told him, packing the clothes into an old gear bag I found.
He strolled over to help me, picking up an old basketball jersey and putting it in his bag. “What are you doing?"
I shrugged, "I can't be in bed with you while wearing some other assholes jersey." I reached up and kissed him quickly
“Okay, pretty girl.”
***
I leaned over the center console and took his hand in mine. He was driving us home. "What are you going to do, Logan?"
He eyed me sideways, and then pursed his lips. "I really don't know." He shrugged. "It's not going to change with time, right? So I guess I'll just think about it, you know?"
I nodded. "Thank you, for sharing that with me. I know it must have been hard for you."
He brought our hands to his mouth, kissed the inside of my wrist, and then rested them on his lap. His shoulders lifted. "You're my person, Amanda. It's what we do, right?"
TWENTY EIGHT
Logan
It's official.
She has my balls and she's not giving them back. Ever.
It'd been a week since Amanda and I became a thing, but we've both been so busy with practice and classes and work and study that we barely had time to see each other. I was so busy doing double practice sessions because of the upcoming game, that I didn't even have time to drive her to work. I picked her up every night, but by the time we got home, we were both too tired to talk about our days, let alone fool around. I cop a tit touch every now and then, but that was as far as it went.
She asked the night we got back if I wanted to talk more about what happened when I was a kid. I said no. I also told her that no one else knew about it. Not even the adoption side. No one but Jake and Micky. It wasn't that I didn't trust anyone; I just didn't want people's pity. I especially didn't want hers. So she left it alone and hasn't asked since.
I was sitting in my bed, books all over the place, when I heard the front door slam shut, "Babe?" she yelled.
"Bed."
She came into the room, dropped her backpack to the floor and fell forward onto the bed with her head on my lap. "I'm so deliriously tired," she muffled into my leg.
I tried to contain my laugh. "Have a nap."
Her head lifted to face me so she could show me the most exaggerated eye roll ever. "If I had time to nap I wouldn't have this issue, Asshat."
"Sorry," I grimaced. "You're in a good mood."
She grunted. "I have to be at work in an hour." Her head fell back on my lap.
"Can someone cover your shift?"
"No!" she snapped.
Clearly I was an idiot for even asking.
She lifted her head again, staring at my lap for a few seconds. Then she raised her hands lazily and started to undo the drawstring of my pants. "Let's have sex," she announced through a yawn.
What? "What?" I tried to jerk my hips back but there was nowhere to go.
"I don't know," she rushed out, starting to put her hand down my pants.
I grabbed it, "What the hell are you doing?" I laughed out.
She let out a frustrated moan. "I don't know. I don't know what's happening right now. I'm so tired. Is this real life?" She pouted. She looked so damn cute. "Logan?" she sighed, flipping over and looking up at me.
I stroked her hair, trying to relax her. "Yeah?"
"Please don't be mad but I have to work during your game tomorrow. Everyone else already had tickets and I couldn't get out of it. I'm sorry. Don't hate me." Her eyes began to drift shut.
"That sucks."
"Logan?"
"Yeah?"
"Why haven't we had sex yet?"
"Because it's not just sex with you. It never will be."
TWENTY NINE
Amanda
Game days were always so busy at the bar. But today was hectic because it was the first game of the season. I tried to watch as much as I could on the big screen but I was completely distracted and useless at my job.
Everyone’s eyes were glued to the screen, Jake was pitching, and Logan was catching. It was the top of the ninth; the opposition had two outs, two strikes. This pitch could make or break their perfect game. The buzz so far was that it was the Andrews/Matthews dynamic. Personally, I just thought my boy was that fucking amazing.
