Page 35 of What It Means To Be Found

ELOISE

My phone buzzed again as soon as the movie started. Susan was settled in one of her ugly accent chairs, me in the other, while Courtney and Josh were cuddled on the couch. It was Friday night, and we were too tired from our weeks to go out and do anything fun or exciting.

Logan: Was that not a good enough apology?

I blinked, confused. Then I realized I hadn’t ever responded to his apology earlier today. I quirked my lips to the side and flicked my gaze up at the TV, pondering how to best respond. I liked that we weren’t at each other’s throats and that we were texting as if we were actually friends.

My heart was starting to pick up its pace for an entirely different form of anticipation as I settled deeper into the ugly accent chair, bundled in a throw blanket, and tapped my response back to him.

Me: It was a solid 6/10, not bad.

I was holding my breath as I waited for his response, hoping that my little text didn’t come off as snobby or truly irritated. The teasing hadn’t ever worked out for us in the past, but a certain type of consensual teasing clearly needed to happen.

Logan: A 6/10 is basically a D, which could be argued as a bad grade.

Me: It’s not an F, though.

Logan: What kind of apology would earn me an A?

Me: You were one of those high-strung A+ students in school, weren’t you?

Logan: I wasn’t high-strung. I just earned perfect grades.

I smirked a little, happy with the tone of the conversation. What was he up to right now? It was late at night, and Susan would be in bed if we weren’t formally having a movie night together. Was Logan out with the guys from his team? Was he home alone, watching some sports channel as he texted me?

Did he want to text me?

Me: A handwritten letter goes a long way, I think.

Logan: Like, with a pen and paper? Do you have any idea how much would have to go into me acquiring a pen and paper to simply write a letter?

Me: How badly do you want that A?

I bit my bottom lip after I sent that text, my pulse picking up a little bit as the movie in front of me was completely forgotten. I had been reading an absurd amount of romance novels the last few weeks, so I had that to blame for the fact that our conversation discussing giving grades seemed like the lead into an innuendo.

I had already told Logan I would let “him” do “things” to me in the voice memos that still haunted me with embarrassment at random times in my day, and we had recovered from that to some degree. Therefore, I didn’t let myself spiral too much about this.

Logan: Hypothetically, if I didn’t have supplies to write a letter at my apartment, what other options would I have to earn that A?

I popped my lip out from between my teeth.

Was this flirty?

Was Logan flirting with me?

Did he want me to say something flirty back?

I pressed my phone against my chest, my brain struggling to come up with something that balanced the line between flirty and friendly. Or should I take a leap and lean flirtier? This felt flirty. It had to be flirty. No grown man texted a grown woman this kind of question in total innocence.

Holy shit. Logan was probably flirting with me.

I didn’t want to think too hard about the excitement I felt at the thought.

Me: Well, unfortunately for you I’m not interested in signed hockey merch or anything.

Logan: That would have made things a little easier on my end.

Me: I’m open to ideas if you have any.

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