Page 31 of The Playbook

“Thanks?” Logan mumbled. “Gracie, I didn’t tell him we were going out. But I did tell him you were seeing Noah.”

“Why would you do that? I told you I wasn’t. Seriously, what the hell is the matter with you?” I shot a glare at him.

His head lolled as he tried to stay awake. “I just didn’t want you seeing anyone. I thought if you had a boyfriend, you wouldn’t want to hang out with me.”

“Well, good job because I definitely don’t want to hang out with you now, asshat,” I snapped. “I don’t even want to be out here rescuing your ass. We aren’t friends.”

“Gracie, we’re friends, and you know it. Secretly, you’re so fucking hot for me.” He looked at me with bloodshot eyes.

Ugh. I wanted to kick him. Hard.

“I donothave it bad for you. I’m not like Nikki or the other girls you hang out with. I actually have taste and class. You’re not the sort of guy I’d ever go for.”

“Whatever. We should kiss. Then you’ll know I’m your type.”

“Gross,” I shivered.

Not because I found him repulsive. Logan was the epitome of gorgeous. But he definitely wasn’t anything but disgustingly drunk right then, and it was a total turn off.

I pulled into his driveway.

“Get out.”

“Shit, Grace. I don’t think I can get upstairs by myself—”

“Then lie in the lawn. I need to get home. If my dad finds me gone, I won’t be ungrounded until I’m in my thirties.”

“You’re going to feel bad if you find out I threw up on myself,” Logan grumbled. “Or if a dog pisses on me. If you were me, I’d help you.”

What a jerk.Something told me he wasn’t lying though. Sighing, I got out of the car and helped him out. Annoyed, I guided him to his front door, him leaning on me making it a real struggle. He was easily twice my size. I barely came up to his chest.

“Keys are in my pocket,” he mumbled, his eyes barely open, his words a slurred mess. “Right side. You’ll have to get them.”

I reached over and put my hand into Logan’s pocket, feeling around, my stomach in knots. I grasped his keys and glanced up to see him smirking at me.

“Asshole,” I muttered, opening his front door. “Where are your parents? Their room upstairs or downstairs?”

“They’re not home. My mom went with my dad to Florida.”

“Then why didn’t you just stay at Brent’s?” I demanded, stumbling with him into the house.

“Because I wanted to see you, and you blew me off.”

I let him go, and he fell forward, splaying across his foyer floor.

“Shit,” he groaned, rolling onto his back.

“I’m sorry,” I hissed, frustrated.

Leaning down, I tried to lift his hulking six-foot-four frame. He tugged my hand and pulled me down with him.

“What the hell, Logan?” I snarled, trying to untangle myself from him.

He let out a laugh, pulling me closer. I gave up the struggle when I realized he wasn’t going to let me go. Rolling over, he turned to face me.

“You’re so pretty, Gracie,” he murmured. “Like fucking gorgeous. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before everything. Before the stupid play.”

“You’re really drunk, Logan,” I replied, my breath catching as his blue eyes tried to focus on me. I had no idea what play he was talking about since I wasn’t in drama club.

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