I Hate Football Players 3 | 18+

Chapter 71: Ellie

What the hell is wrong with Logan!?

I realize he can't be perfect, but he threw me into the shower, then passed out at the sight of my period, for fuck's sake...

I'd been on birth control pills since I was fifteen because of my polycystic ovarian syndrome, which was also why I ate low-carb meals like Logan's. Without birth control, my cycles were irregular, exceeded sixty days, or worse, nonexistent. Fortunately, I didn't have a lot of the other symptoms of PCOS, notably increased hair growth, acne, or unexplained weight gain. Two of my aunts on my mother's side have it, which led to my early detection.

Birth control pills put me on a more regular cycle as well as leveled out the hormones, but the PCOS price for me was still extremely heavy periods. I chugged water like I was dehydrated but still got large clots if I sat or laid down for too long. The few pounds of water bloat usually lasted longer than the bleeding and by the snugness in my pants, I regretted every carb I'd stuffed into my mouth at Monique's.

I should've warned Logan, at least a heads up that they're bad, but had no idea he'd pass out.

So, at two am on a Friday morning, I sat downstairs with a pillow-sized pad in my changed out underwear and an extra large tampon stuffed up in me while the basement dryer finished with Logan's blankets, my bloodied clothes, and his sheets. Embarrassingly, I'd even bled right into Logan's mattress, which I made sure I'd scrubbed completely clean with cold water and laundry soap, bleached it, then dried with my hairdryer all while Logan remained a useless speed hump on the bathroom floor.

He's fine, he can just stay put for a while.

Once I finished the laundry and remade Logan's bed, I grunted and groaned while I dragged his heavy body into the living room and hoisted him up onto the sofa. His shoulders and hips accordion folded his spine at an awkward angle, so I rolled him onto his side and covered him with a blanket.

Since there was no way I went back to sleep after that experience, or from how my pelvis twisted and wrenched like a cleated football shoe kicked at my uterus, I padded my bare feet into the living room. My chest heaved with a deep breath, I sat down on the floor with my back against the sofa, and opened up my Nutrition textbook.

Two hours later, my uterus still hated me, my eyelids drooped heavily, and the sofa behind me groaned in a low tone. I saved the moderately decent draft of my Sports Nutrition term paper on the indirect role of fiber in building muscles, then closed my laptop.

"Hey." I gently rubbed my palm over the hard muscles of Logan's upper back.

Ugh, even this side of him is pure muscle.

An hour after I'd thrown him onto the sofa, he'd flipped stomach-down with his outside arm draped over the edge. With his long arm, his fingers brushed into the floor, where I threaded my other hand's fingers in between.

Logan's face wasn't as relaxed as he normally looked while he slept and crease lines appeared in his forehead before two blue eyes squinted at me out of narrowed slits.

"Ellie?" His fingers tugged on mine and my name came out more like a question of my existence rather than any form of affection. "You okay?"

"I'm right here." I smoothed my top hand over the rumpled blonde hills that rolled over the top of his head.

With one jerked movement, Logan sat up like he'd been possessed. Given he'd laid on his stomach, that was a pretty impressive body contortion.

Maybe he is possessed...

"You..." His eyes shifted from deep blue as a grayish tint crept over them the longer he stared at me. Slowly, the corners of his mouth dragged downward until his mouth parted and his eyebrows curled up on the insides.