“Is there any way we could maybe start over?” Logan asks me with a lopsided smile. “You could pretend I didn’t try to buy your affection like a fool?”
My heart melts a bit for him, and I nod quickly. “Of course. Consider it forgotten. And I’m sure there are tons of things I wish you would forget too. Probably, oh, I don’t know”—I glance down—“how I look right now, for one?”
I arch my brows in hope as I look back up at him from beneath my lashes, but he only shakes his head, trying to hide his smile. “No can do, I’m afraid. You’re too cute, paint and all.”
Cute like a puppy? Or cute like a woman you desperately want to kiss?
Curse that bloody word and whoever invented it. Shakespeare, probably. Didn’t he come up with all of them?
Briggs is tugging on Logan’s hand now, insisting they go for ice cream, and Logan is pretending Briggs is really strong enough to carry him away. It’s so cute.
“Hold on, buddy. I’m almost finished.”
“Why do you want to talk to Ms. Candace for so long. Do you liiiike her?” Briggs scrunches his nose like the thought is as disgusting as a turd.
“Ignore him,” Logan says, clearing his throat. “Now that we’ve started fresh, I just wanted to make sure to let you know Darius and I are having a party this weekend. Just a small group of friends—don’t be intimidated.”
I immediately drop my overtly intimidated expression and affect a cool-girl stance with my hand on my hip and my weight resting on the doorjamb.
“I assure you, I am not intimidated.”
He grins. “Good. I’ll text you the info if you feel like coming. Invite your roommates too.”
He’s halfway down the hall now, being tugged away by Briggs, so I throw him a wave and a nod.
“Yeah, cool! I’ll see what I’ve got going on!”
If this were a movie, a godlike narrator would say to the audience, Candace has absolutely nothing going on.
He nods and finally turns to set off with Briggs.
It’s not until he’s at the door and I’m staring after him, lovesick, that another one of the preschool teachers comes up to me and tuts. “What a shame, right?”
“What?” I have to fight to pry my eyeballs off Logan’s arse.
“That he’s off limits.”
In my head, a car screeches to a halt. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t you remember what happened to Tara? Fired for sleeping with a parent. How horrible.”
“But he’s not a parent.”
She shrugs. “He might as well be. I’m sure the same rules apply.”
She starts to walk away, so I’m forced to shout after her. “Do they though? Do they apply?!”
“What does it matter?” She laughs. “Logan Matthews isn’t ever going to date any of us. A girl can dream though, right?”
I do dream. I dream and I dream and in every single one, Logan is doing very naughty, dirty things to me, things that make me wake up so embarrassed I can’t meet my own reflection in the bathroom mirror. My toothbrush bristles say, We know what you’ve been thinking about, and as retribution, I dunk them under the stream from the faucet.
“You all right? You look like you’ve hardly slept a wink,” Kat says, crowding into the bathroom alongside me. We’ve only got the one and usually I’m the first to wake up, but I’m dragging today.
“Shove over, you two,” Yasmine says, cutting the shower off and reaching for her towel before she steps out to join us.
Now there are three of us in precisely one cubic centimeter of space. Yasmine’s elbow catches the end of my toothbrush so it goes deeper into my mouth, nearly down my throat. I gag and only barely resist the urge to vomit before I catch myself.
“Watch it!” I hiss, hip-checking her.
“I was in here first. You two loons need to give me some proper space to get ready.” She wraps the towel around herself tighter, and for a brief second, I’m flashed by her decadent curves. I’m so jealous I have the urge to vomit all over again.
Even Kat has a body guys fawn over, real tall and lean. She could be some runway model if she wanted, I swear.
Then there’s me. Little ol’ Candace.
NO.
I force that line of thinking right out of my head. I’ve never been weird about my looks. I’ve got good things going. My pale blonde hair always catches the sun, and my big blue eyes are the same as Mum’s. I’ve got a small nose and a dimpled smile. My skin’s pretty great, and I’ve got a petite figure, even if it’s not overflowing with luscious curves. The only reason I’ve let these new insidious thoughts creep in is because I saw that girl Logan was with at District. She seemed to scream S-E-X from her hair down to her toes. I’d bet on my life no guy has ever called her cute. Sexy, tantalizing, bodacious—yes. Cute—no way.
Whatever. It’s not like it matters. As I learned yesterday, there’s a good chance Logan is utterly off limits.
Oh, but doesn’t that just make the whole thing even more tempting?
I yank off my pajamas and take my turn in the shower.
“Oh my god!” Yasmine gasps. “I think there’s a tree between your legs!”
“Hush you! I’m going for a wax this afternoon so I’ve had to let it grow out a bit longer.”
“Dear god. Have you checked for live critters in there? Maybe a squirrel or two?”
“Har har, very funny. Keep it up and I won’t tell you about the posh party we’ve been invited to this weekend.”
The shower curtain gets yanked to the side, and I don’t even bother shrieking. I go right on washing my hair.
Yasmine and Kat stand there, prepared to interrogate me until I give them the truth. None of us cares a bit that I’m stark nude.
When I don’t immediately spill the gossip—instead squeezing out another dollop of conditioner—Yasmine waves her hand impatiently.
I mime a zipper closing across my lips.
She growls in frustration. “Fine. Okay, look—if I hold my hand up a bit to block it, it’s not so bad. There. It’s like you don’t even have a huge bush anymore. No need to go get that wax after all.”
I grab the shower curtain and wrench it closed again.
“Kat, you’re invited to Logan’s party with me,” I taunt.
“What?!” she screams.
“He said he’d text me the details. As soon as I know, I’ll pass them along to you.”
“Fine, okay. I’ll get dinner tonight,” Yasmine relents.
“And?”
“And wine.”
“And?”
“What else do you want? This is called extortion, you know! It’s criminal!”
“I’ll take a slice of that cheesecake from the shop on the corner.”
“It’s like $8.00 a slice!”
“I suppose it’ll just have to be Kat and me this weekend.”
“Fine, you witch! I’ll do it. Are you happy?”
I grin. “Pleased as Punch. Now pass me a towel, will you?”
I don’t bother telling Yasmine or Kat about the minor, oh-so-small inconvenience wherein Logan might be off limits and if I so much as kiss him on the cheek, I might be fired and lose all my income and become destitute and have to move back to England and find work on the streets. Instead, I decide it’s best to figure out as much as I can before bringing in the other two Stooges.