Page 83 of The Playbook

She grinned again. “I figured so. If your dad asks, I’ll just tell him you’re out with friends. We had a talk, you know.”

“I know. He told me.”

“He loves you very much, Grace, and only wants the best for you. Truth be told, he didn’t want to let go, but I had to remind him of when we were your age. He slept on it and made the right choice.”

“Thanks, Mom.” I leaned over and hugged her tightly.

“Ah, you grew up so fast,” she said as we broke apart. “You’re going to be leaving for college soon. I just can’t believe it.”

“I know.” I nodded. “But I’ll be back. Promise.”

“I know, sweetheart.” She wiped at her eyes. “OK. You best get going before Dad gets back and starts his twenty questions. Have fun. Be safe.”

“I will.” I kissed her on the cheek and rose from my chair, bag in hand.

It was now or never, and never was way too far away.

* * *

“Wow,” Logan said as I stepped into his foyer. “You look breathtaking.” He kissed me, his hands on my waist as I leaned into him. “And taste good too.”

I laughed and pulled away, taking him in. His hair was messy, and he was in a black t-shirt which hugged his muscular torso. His jeans hung low on his waist. He winked at me before taking my hand and leading me into the kitchen.

“I made you dinner,” he said proudly, gesturing to the spread on the island.

I surveyed the items, my heart dancing. Macaroni and cheese. French fries. Pizza. An entire smorgasbord of things that didn’t go together but I would definitely eat.

“I love it.”

“You haven’t tried it yet,” he said with a grin as he took a plate and doled a heaping spoonful of mac and cheese onto it followed by French fries, a slice of cheese pizza, and a triangle of grilled cheese. He handed it to me before making his own plate and settling on the stool beside me.

“This is really good,” I said, swallowing my mouthful of mac and cheese.

“Thanks. It’s my mom’s recipe. She taught it to me.”

“She could sell this and make millions,” I said, delighted at the cheesy goodness I’d been exposed to.

That seemed to be a good response because he grinned and wiggled in his seat before shoveling some food into his mouth.

“I didn’t really know what to make for you,” he finally said as he pushed a French fry around on his plate. “I figured a variety couldn’t steer me wrong.”

“I like all of this stuff,” I said. “But the macaroni is where it’s at.”

“I pegged you for a cheesy girl.” He winked and offered me his French fry.

I opened my mouth and bit into it, chewing slowly. I was completely aware of the way his eyes darted to my lips and the way my guts twisted with anticipation.

“I thought we could watch a movie in my room,” he said, swallowing when we finished dinner. “You know, just take things slow.”

I nodded. It seemed like a good idea. I could work with a gradual progression.

He exhaled and kissed my cheek before getting to his feet. “I’ll just put this stuff away and meet you up there, OK?”

“I can help you—”

“Get your sexy ass to my bedroom.” He leaned in and placed a kiss on my lips this time. “Now.”

I didn’t argue with him. Instead, I rose and obediently went to his room where I settled on his bed, my heart doing flips in my chest.

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