The Man Cave Collection: Manservant, Man Flu, Man Handler, and Man Buns

by Ryan, Shari J.

  Logan takes in a deep breath, and his chest puffs out in response. He places his hands on top of the cube walls, now locking Taylor into this tight space with Brielle and me. “I don’t think you should be talking to me that way.”

  “Temp, go away,” Taylor says through unnerving laughter.

  “His name is Logan Grier,” Brielle tells him. I know why she added the Grier in, and now I’m watching Taylor’s expression contort into utter humiliation. He had no idea.

  “Wait a minute. You’re Logan Grier, as in MVP of 2015, and the Logan Grier who was nearly castrated in front of over a million people?”

  He had to throw that in there? Obviously, Logan was more than talented and a top player, yet his final moment on the field is what he’s remembered for. How does he walk around with confidence like he does? No wonder he got gun shy with me the other day.

  “How many Logan Griers do you know?” Logan asks Taylor.

  “Just you,” Taylor says with amazement. “I can’t believe I’m standing in the presence of a baseball god.”

  “Taylor, I’m going to ask you to apologize to the ladies and move on with your day.”

  Taylor lifts his arm and squeezes his shoulder while stretching his neck in each direction. Then, he looks at me and babbles something before hightailing it out of the cube. “I think I’ve waited to see a look like that on his face since he started here five years ago. Thank you,” I tell him. Now if you only you knew of a way to separate my ass cheeks, I might fall in love with you right here and now.

  “You’re just all sorts of amazing, aren’t you Logan?” Brielle asks him with a wink. “Maybe you have more tricks up your sleeve to help our poor Hannah out today.” Brielle winks at me as if I didn’t ask her very nicely to keep her mouth shut about my situation.

  “How can I help you, Hannah? Is everything okay?” I specifically asked Brielle not to react to my situation so I could avoid it being announced, and instead, she hints about it to Logan. She couldn’t just wait two minutes for him to leave the cube. Unbelievable. Nope, it’s believable. This girl cannot control her mouth.

  “Ah, I think I’ll just go handle the problem myself,” I say, looking between the two of them.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing, it’s fine, really. It’s just girl stuff, no big deal.”

  “This isn’t girl stuff,” Brielle chirps. “This is a serious issue, Hannah. We may need to go back to see that woman. She can fix this.”

  I can either waddle out of here, or I can sink to the floor and scream out in pain—neither of which will make this any better.

  “Seriously, what’s going on?” Logan asks. There’s more force behind his voice this time, which I find to be a turn on, but also very upsetting because I’m aware he’s about to find out what I did this morning, for him, and what the outcome was, which will not benefit him in the least at the moment.

  I love how Brielle can bring it up so casually and then look at me like a deer in headlights afterward as if it were a total accident. It’s not that hard, is it? To think before you speak? I want to ask her.

  More sweat is percolating under my skin, and I’m burning up. Nothing has gone smoothly—ha ha—with Logan, and I was so hoping tonight would go well, but this all seems to be a bad joke that’s on repeat. First, I puke all over him, and now he’s about to find out that my ass cheeks are waxed together because I needed to do a serious weed hack before he came anywhere near me again.

  I think it’s been about two full minutes since anyone has said anything, and there is no way for me to slip out of this cube.

  “Logan, I can’t …”

  “You can’t what?”

  “Her butt is glued shut,” Brielle says as she slaps her hand over her mouth. Why do people do that, like it’s involuntary? The human mind can control what is being said.

  Logan laughs, and I know that is an involuntary reaction, but I think he’s only laughing because he thinks Brielle is joking.

  “It’s not a joke,” I tell him. My face probably matches my whole nether region right now.

  “How is that possible?” Logan’s disposition straightens out, accompanying a more serious tone.

  “Wax. Our poor girl is like a human candle right now, and we don’t know how to fix the problem.”

  Logan closes his eyes and presses his hand over his face. “Hold up, you had the inside of your ass waxed?”

  “Yeah, Logan, it’s called a Hollywood glow, so obviously, many people do it,” Brielle says in my defense.

  “Just because you hear Hollywood does something does not mean it’s common,” he corrects her. “And have you done this sort of thing before?”

  “No!” I’m quick to blurt out. “Never. It was her idea.” I’m pointing to Brielle like I’m in fifth grade because it’s just the easiest way to handle the repercussions of my stupid decision, and she did insist on the Hollywood Glow.

  Logan looks to be chewing on the inside of his cheek as I’ve seen him do a few times now while thinking intently about something. “Wax melts, so we have to reheat it somehow.”

  “When did this become a ‘we’ thing?” I ask. No one is coming anywhere near my ass.

  “Can you heat up your ass alone? I mean, all the power to you if you can, but I’m not sure I’d have the capability of doing such a thing.”

  “Heat up my ass?”

  “How else are you going to melt the wax?”

  This is getting worse by the second. “I think I should just go back to the woman who did this.”

  “Here, I’ll take you,” Logan says.

  “I’m not prepared for the event tomorrow, not at all. I still have hours’ worth of work to do.”

  “I have it all under control,” he says.

  “How? I didn’t go over everything with you.”

  “What else was left?” he asks.

  “I don’t even know right now. I can’t even think straight with the pain I have down there. And I have to figure out how to get this fixed before Cora’s school calls with an early snow dismissal or something inside of me tears.”

  “Can you do whatever is left from home?” Logan asks. He’s beginning to look more concerned than I feel, which is making me a whole lot more nervous.

  “Yeah, I suppose I can.”

  “Give me two minutes,” Logan says.

  He walks off toward the offices, and he’s on a mission I’m not sure I want to know about. “What the hell, Bri?”

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It slipped. I didn’t mean to say it, but it just blah— It blurted out of me, and I couldn’t stop it.”

  “Thanks, Brielle. Let it be known, I have all intentions of storming out of your cube because I’m pissed, but I’m not sure I can move.”

  I reach into my back pocket for my phone and realize I don’t have it on me. I went to the bathroom in such a panic, I left it on my desk. I’ve been worried about school getting canceled, and I have no clue if they tried to call or email. Shit.

  “Help me up,” I tell Brielle, reaching my arm out to her. I’m in an odd squatting position against the wall, and the thought of moving seems like the worst idea ever. “Actually, don’t help me up. Could you go get my phone off my desk? I’m worried the school tried to call.”

  Brielle scurries off in her four-inch-heeled boots and slams her hand down on my desk while making contact with my phone. It’s never hard to figure out where that girl is with the amount of noise she makes. She has it back to me in a matter of seconds, and I’m relieved to see the school hasn’t tried to call. I should just check the damn forecast already.

  “Folks,” Alan says from outside his office. “Can I have your attention for a minute.” Everyone in their cubicles turns to face the corner office. “I know most of you are leaving in the morning for the expo, but the snow isn’t expected to stop until about midnight tonight. So, in hopes of everyone getting home safely and having everything in order for the morning, I’d like you all to go home now and fin
ish up whatever remaining work you have remotely. I’ll be accessible all evening through email, so please take extra caution while driving home.” All I heard was, blah blah blah, I don’t want the company to be sued, and work all night so you can be exhausted in the morning when you’re digging out your driveway in preparation for an airport transfer.

  Logan returns to Brielle’s cube with my coat and a box of papers. “Let’s go.”

  “Did you just do that?”

  “Oh, you, and your cute little tight-end, I have a certain finesse with my words. Haven’t you learned that yet?”

  “Tight-end?” I repeat. “Really? Don’t you think it’s a little soon to be making jokes, considering I’m still suffering right now?”

  “Don’t yell, you might split the seam,” he chuckles, obviously having fun with this situation, at my expense.

  “While you’re making jokes, I need to figure out how to drive home, and I can’t sit, so please have some empathy.”

  “Empathy?” he laughs. “Should I remind you about my ‘flat tire’? Imagine sitting on that thing for the first two months.”

  Fair point. “Come on, I’m here to help you,” Logan continues. “We’ll get you fixed up. Think of it as a butt lift. It’s training your muscles to stick together and be perky.”

  “Are you saying I need a butt lift?” My butt isn’t flat, but it doesn’t stand up all perky and crap like Tiana’s does because it blew up like a freaking balloon when I was pregnant, then deflated.

  “That wasn’t what I was saying,” Logan corrects my thoughts and adds a smile for good measure. “Where is this wax place?”

  “Just down the street,” I tell him.

  “Hawaiian Breeze Spa?” he questions.

  How does he know … “Yes?”

  “Oh no, did you happen to get waxed by Mary?”

  “Logan, how do you know so much about Hawaiian Breeze Spa? And Mary, for that matter?”

  “Let’s just say … I know her.”

  Chapter 24

  It’s still Monday, also known as the most mortifying day of my life. Take two

  “You know Mary?”

  “I know Mary,” he repeats.

  “How do you know her?”

  “Mary used to work for my team. She was fired and relocated to the suburbs. Then she opened up a shop.”

  “I’m sorry, what exactly did Mary do for a bunch of baseball players?” I’m holding myself up against the railing in the elevator, hoping the bouncing doesn’t do any further damage.

  “We waxed stuff. It’s really not important,” he says.

  “Yeah, it is kind of important. What did you wax? Now that you’ve brought it up, I need to know.”

  Logan glances over at me with a raised brow and a smirk. “How about you use your wildest imagination and go with that.” This man is turning me on with just a look and the words coming from his mouth.

  “So, you all just took turns getting waxed by Mary?” I know I’m pushing, but it’s distracting me from my situation. “Like, was she in the locker room and you all just stood in line waiting for your turn?”

  “Hannah,” he says sweetly. “I’m more than happy to help you today, and even happier to spend time with you tonight, but I’m a little less excited to talk about anything that has to do with baseball, or the life that accompanied it.” He had to throw in that card just to make me feel guilty enough to stop asking questions.

  “Fine. I’ll stop for now, but don’t think this is over yet.”

  “On a scale of one to ten, how much pain are you in right now?” he asks.

  “Are you a nurse or a doctor?”

  “No, but I spent enough time with them to know how they gauge pain. Considering you’ve been through childbirth, I have an idea what to base your pain level on and whether we should go directly to the hospital or back to the spa.”

  “I don’t want to go to the hospital, and I have to be free to get Cora off the bus. That’s if they don’t cancel school early. The ER will take hours since I won’t be on their top list of emergencies.”

  “This is kind of an emergency. What if you have to go to the bathroom or pass gas?” These thoughts hadn’t crossed my mind, nor did I want them to because now I’m sitting here wondering what’s going to happen if either of those two situations come up before I’m repaired. Will I just explode? This is serious.

  We walk—I hobble—outside into the snow that’s piling up to several inches at this point. I hear the plows, which is good since that means they’re planning to keep up with it. I also hope that means they aren’t planning to let school out early. “I really don’t know how I’m going to drive like this,” I tell Logan.

  “Well, let me drive you to Mary’s first, and then after that, we’ll come back for your car.” Minivan. You can say it, it’s fine. I’m not embarrassed by it. I can make a minivan look hot, even with my candlestick ass.

  “Okay, so my next question is about how I’m going to get into your monstrously high truck?” We shuffle through the snow and up to the passenger side of the truck. He opens the door and scoops me up with what feels like little effort. “This really hurts.”

  “Did you do this for me?” he asks quietly.

  I close my eyes because he’s staring at me with the most adorable smile I’ve ever seen on a man, and I’m melting, which would be awesome if I meant that literally. “I did. I wanted to give you what you’re probably used to being with.”

  “That’s ridiculous because you have no idea what I like or what kind of women I’ve been with.”

  “Well, Brielle appointed herself as my waxing mentor, and I was also basing it on my own experience because I know for a fact that’s it’s horrible to get a pube stuck in your teeth.”

  Logan jerks his head back, and a small gust of snow blows off the top of his head. “How in the world did that happen?”

  “He was covered from base to … like, halfway up. I was trying to show off my skills, and all of the sudden I felt like there was floss in my teeth. I told him I didn’t feel well and made him go home. End of story.”

  “First, I don’t think that’s normal. I mean, I’ve unfortunately seen my fair share of dicks in the locker room, and I don’t believe I’ve ever seen someone with that much pubic hair. Second, I can see why you might be scarred.”

  Okayyy, enough about my history with bad dates. “Anyway, here I am, and I’m waxed shut.”

  “I have a feeling you’ll laugh about this someday,” he says with a soft smile.

  “I have a feeling I’ll still be crying about this someday, but I’d like to go with your theory for the time being.”

  “I think it’s adorable that you cared enough to do that during a snowstorm and when you have a lot of work to get done. You must really like me, huh?” he says lightheartedly, giving me a gentle squeeze.

  “We survived the man flu, and we’re still speaking to each other. I think that should answer your question on whether I like you.” I try to laugh, but it hurts.

  “I didn’t think I was that bad. Compared to other times I’ve been sick, I think I kept myself under control for the most part.” He’s calling that controlled? Oy.

  “Logan, you needed liquid Advil …”

  “So?”

  “I think we should start over and pretend like this last week never happened. What do you say?” I offer.

  “I say we do that after we figure out how to tear your ass apart.”

  “Right.” I tried to forget my current predicament for a moment, but now I remember why I’m scooped up into this man’s cradling arms.

  He curls me into his chest slowly, careful not to cause me any pain. “I really do like you,” he mutters quietly, under his breath.

  With the snow falling around us and his warm body blocking out the frigid wind, I completely feel the exact same way. I’d tell him so but his lips are moving in toward mine, and I let my gaze linger on his face for an extra second, enjoying the sight of his dimples up close, noticin
g the faint freckles on his nose. As he moves closer to me, the scent of his spicy cologne mixed with the fresh snow forces my eyes closed just as his lips touch mine. He must have been chewing gum or had a mint recently because his breath is cool against me and strikes my lips with chills colder than the wind around us.

  He’s a slow kisser and apparently likes to take his time moving from my top lip to the bottom, then covering all the parts in between. The tip of his tongue swirls around mine, leaving a cool sensation in its trail.

  I’m lost in the moment, forgetting about everything else.

  The connection between us is more than it’s ever been, more than I thought it was. I feel something deep inside that makes all the wrong seem right.

  He hugs me to him a little tighter, and suddenly I know that I’d love to be his for as long as he’ll hang onto me. I’d even stay out in this cold snow in his arms with my ass cheeks glued together for an eternity, if life paused like this.

  My heart thaws despite the opposing elements, and my pulse is erratic, speeding at a pace I haven’t felt in many years. Logan has brought me to a new place that I want to continue to exist in. I’m ready to feel the happiness I’ve avoided and yet missed, at the same time.

  When he pulls away, I struggle to catch my missing breaths, and each one burns against the cold air surrounding us. With a light kiss on my nose and my forehead, Logan slides me into the truck and lowers the seat back a bit, so I’m in at an angle. “How’s that?” My senses are too overwhelmed for words right now, so I nod with a bashful smile.

  I close my eyes throughout the short trip, trying to focus on something else, but the only thing I can think about is that kiss and the one from the other night. This man knows his way around a pair of lips, a talent I might have enjoyed later in other areas as well, but now I’ll probably have to wear a diaper or something—so much for a distraction.

  The crunching of the snow beneath the truck’s tires becomes louder as we pull into the lot, and I tighten my fists, preparing for even the slightest jerk as we come to a stop. I’ve never thought about how much I use my butt muscles, but it’s a lot, which makes me wonder why I don’t have an ass of steel.