How To Evict a Hot Jock in Three Weeks - Anyta Sunday Page 0,2
his way to Luci.
She sat on the couch banging away at her laptop in a bomber jacket and ripped jeans—damn beautiful in an edgy way. Always a clever spark in her dark eyes. Instantly likeable. Sometimes he wished things had worked romantically with her, but she was yet another woman on a long list who hadn’t clicked . . . in bed.
Logan was nervous it was a him issue.
Luci waved absently.
“Why aren’t you at your desk?” Logan asked, slumping next to her.
She sighed. “The door was locked and there were raised voices . . .”
“Is it Brett and Gates? Are they still competing for latte-love Vicki?”
Luci snorted. “She’s too smart for those idiots.”
She caught sight of the box and sympathy pooled in her eyes. “Damn, Logan. I’m—”
Logan followed Luci’s gaze to his darling big brother—a haughty comedic playwright who lived to piss him off.
Callum waltzed over. “You haven’t called Mom in weeks.”
Yeah, and he wasn’t sure he could any time soon.
“Okay, Luci,” Callum continued. “Two things. One, replace Jeb’s role—”
“What happened with Jeb now?” she asked.
“I fired him.”
Logan snickered. “Again?”
“He was pissing me off.”
“He’s your best friend.”
“Not today, he isn’t.” Callum scowled, but fondness quivered at his lips. “Replace Jeb’s role, and schedule end-of-the-month auditions for Hickleberry Phin.”
Logan’s ears perked. “Auditions?”
Callum shook his head. “You know I can’t just give you a role.”
“But I can audition?”
Callum lowered his voice. “You know who you’d be working with if you landed the part, right?”
“You, Jeb, and”—Logan swallowed—“Jane.”
“Still want to audition?”
The idea of working with his ex was painful, but the desire to prove Jane wrong burned in him. He could act. He could blow them all away. He could land this role on merit.
He swallowed. “I want a main part.”
“You do have the right jockish build . . .”
Logan straightened. “The right build, yep.”
Callum hummed. “But the attitude, the accent, the demeanor . . .”
Logan turned to Luci. “Do you know the main role?”
“Finished reading twenty minutes ago, yeah.”
“Think I could pull it off?”
“Of course you could,” Luci said instantly. She was a good friend.
“But?” he prompted.
She pulled out a peppermint candy. “Want one?”
“Luci . . .”
She sighed, fiddling with the candy. “You’re a staunch liberal poster-boy.”
“So?”
“You’re marching on the front lines of every feminist parade.”
“And?”
“You have weekly hour-long discussions with strangers on the merits of free healthcare for all.”
“No premiums, deductibles, copays, and no surprise bills. Your point?”
Callum cleared his throat. “What your bestie here is trying to tell you is that it’s a satire following the life of a young Southern “Make America Great Again” voter during the four years of Trump’s presidency—with some Beverly Hillbillies type shenanigans.”
He flinched but quickly smoothed his expression. “I’m an actor. Pretending to be someone I’m not is my entire job description.”
A phone went off. Callum hummed. “Back in a sec.” He left the room, and Logan lifted a brow.
Luci blatantly switched topics, blessedly avoiding the box. “Are we going to chat about our last weekend with you on my couch?”
“Gimme that mint.” He pinched it from her and sucked it into his mouth. “I’ll be ten houses away, Luce. We can see each other’s backyards across the lake.”
Luci pouted. “Damn, it’ll be weird not waking up to you doing half-naked lunges on the rug.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve ordered us binoculars. You can get your fix of me across the lake any time you want.”
“I said it would be weird. Not that I’d miss it. But yes, yes, yes, bring on the perviness.” She set her laptop on the coffee table. “What’s your roommate like? Handsome? Kind? Ready to meet the love of his life? If the answer to any of those is yes, pass him the binoculars.”
Logan smirked. “I’ve not seen him yet, but if Alexander is anything like his brother, we’ll get along great.”
She laughed. “Well, if he’s single, the binoculars offer stands.”
Logan lounged back into the cushions. “How do I convince your boss I’m your MAGA man?”
“How do I convince your brother I need a raise?”
A throat cleared, and Callum waltzed back into the room. “If we sell out, I’ll consider bonuses.” Callum ticked off a finger. “As for you, Logan, you’ll have to really sell the role..”
Logan adopted a southern drawl. “I swear, bubba, you don’t give me this part, I’m gonna howl like you’re givin’ me the whompin’ of my life.”
“Not enough. Live the part. Breathe it.”
“Like . . . method act?”
“Exactly. Until auditions.”
“That’s like three weeks.”
Callum folded his arms. “How badly do you want this role?”
“Why, three weeks ain’t