Veronica sits cross legged on her single bed, books spread out in front of her, and lets out a deep sigh. Reaching for the cell phone in the pink bedazzled case, she flips it over and looks at the clock. It's been an unusually slow work night for a Friday – good for studying, bad for the pocketbook. She was hoping that Nadine would send her at least one new client by now, but it's almost midnight and she has yet to get a call.
She needed at least a couple thousand in the bank before her last semester at Stanford started so she could start preparing to move across country to New York in the summer. The thought of shelling out for first month/last month deposit for tiny apartments near NYU was beginning to scare her. At least she could get rid of her car when she moved and use public transit – she really missed Weevil and his uncle's shop when she had to shell out a thousand dollars last month on transmission repairs.
It could just be that there were too many kink callers tonight; that was for the other girls to deal with. Veronica dealt strictly with the vanilla clients, and Nadine – knowing her apprehension to doing this job in the first place – usually gave her the first-time-callers; the ones who mainly wanted to talk about their day or be comforted about the loss of a girlfriend or just be led through a very easy fantasy. Veronica – or Stacey Q. as some of her now regular clients knew her– could handle that.
Biting her nail as she stared at the phone, Veronica thought back to the first time her phone rang – how nervous she had been. The funny thing was, looking back, she wasn't as nervous about the sex talk, she was nervous that somehow, her father would find out what she was doing. Since he lost the election for Sherriff a few years ago, work at Mars Investigations had been slow, and with Veronica gone there was no one to help him with the smaller cases, so he often ended up nickel and diming a bunch of cases and missing out on chasing bigger bounties. When Veronica found it hard to support herself in her apartment and pay for text books on the meager earnings of working weekends as a barista, a friend from psych class recommended she get into this line of work to supplement her income.
The sex line was run by a very normal looking older woman – Miss Nadine with the olive skin and long white hair – who worked her call centre out of the living room of her large home in San Francisco. It was fairly simple – men (and sometimes women) called in and told Nadine what they wanted and, once their credit card cleared, they were transferred to the appropriate operator. She had been in business for over twenty years – when she herself started with only one line – and slowly built a secure company that catered to many of California's wealthiest clients. (The rumour was that hers was the house that Charlie Sheen built.) While Veronica usually got the newbies, her friend Lizzy specialized in full BDSM fantasies and got paid a heck of a lot more for it. But all of that was most definitely outside of Veronica's comfort zone. Sometimes, the men didn't want to talk at all and she would just listen to the caller moan and grunt until they came on the other end – an act that was off-putting at first, until she realized she could just put down the phone and go about her studying until they were done. The magic number to hit was 15 minutes – if she could keep them on the line for that amount or longer, she could make a mint and most evenings, she could average almost $40 an hour; anything less was unsatisfying to her wallet.
Lying back on her bed, she stretches her legs out over the pile of books, her arms reaching back until she can press her palms against her headboard. Her commitment was to stay available until 2 am every night – something that was relatively easy considering all the homework and studying she had – but tonight she feels restless and longs for the ability to phone up some friends and go to the campus pub for a late drink.
"What a wicked game you play..."
The pink phone starts playing its tune - Wicked Games. It seemed appropriate enough to set at the time and every time she hears it, a slight chill of nerves run down Veronica's spine. Nadine has a zero tolerance policy towards violence and Veronica knows that she can hang up whenever she wants – the clients don't know who she is or her real number – but every time that song plays she still gets twitchy about who is on the other side.
She sits up and takes the phone in hand, giving a little cough to help drop her voice a few octaves before answering. Who knew those voice lessons her mother sent her to for years would one day come in handy for something like this.
"Hello, this is Stacey. How can I be of service to you tonight?"
In her mind, with her voice, she is Jessica Lange, playing her role to the person on the other side, much like she did when she went undercover. She's just not sure who the other actor is yet.
There is a cough and a deep exhale through the phone before her gentleman caller speaks.
"Umm...hello Stacey. I'm...well...should I give you my real name or...?"
She gives a throaty laugh into the phone. Definitely a newbie – you could always tell from the get-go.
"Whatever you want me to call you – I don't know you and you don't know me. And you don't have to call me Stacey either – it's all up to you."
There's a pause on the line and Veronica rotates her head doing little stretches as she pulls her feet underneath her to sit cross-legged again and gets comfortable. Newbies took time – which was good because she needed the dollars per minute.
"Fine...just...Logan...you can call me Logan."
All the blood drains from her in an instant. It couldn't be...
"Logan?"
"Yeah, sure, I mean, your madam or whatever she was has my name from my credit card anyway, so whatever."
Him.
It was him. Logan. Her Logan. Her hand reaches up to cover her mouth and she closes her eyes, trying to remember what Logan – her Logan – sounded like. She had done so much to push the sight and the sound of him out of her head that sometimes she felt that she could pass him in a crowd and never recognize him – but that never stopped her from always skimming the faces of people, just in case she saw her tall, brunette ex-boyfriend towering over everyone else.
She coughs, remembering to drop the register of her voice before opening her mouth again, and reminds herself to stay calm.
"Alright then, Logan it is. And what do you want to call me?"
"Ver—ah—wait no."
Her eyes go wide as her heart pounds in her chest. Me. He wants me to role-play me. Of all the fucked up phone calls she imagined herself getting with this job, this one never, ever, ever crossed her mind.
"No. Sorry. Scratch that. I worked very hard to overcome my addictions and she was one of them. Let's just go with Stacey and leave it at that."
His voice is hard and controlled in a way she had never heard before. Addictions? Was I one of his addictions? Me and what else? And what is he talking about overcoming them? Her head begins swirling with questions that she desperately needs to find the answers to.
"Alright, we'll stick with Stacey." Veronica replies, trying to stay in character. "So Logan, why are you calling me tonight?"
There's a shuffling and the sound of a screen door opening before the wind whips past the receiver of the phone. In the background she thinks she can hear the faint whisper of waves.
"In 72 hours, I ship out for my first assignment as a Navy pilot and I guess...I guess I just want to feel like someone will actually give a damn if I come back alive or not."
Veronica squeezes her eyes shut, keeping control of the emotions turning inside her belly. The Navy. He joined the Navy and became a pilot. She always teased him about Top Gun being one of his favorite films – she never ever thought it was a career goal.
"You don't have anyone?" she whispers, the knowledge that he is alone tearing at her heart.
"I quite literally have Dick – that's my roommate's name." He chuckles. "Since I gave up drinking and drugs and partying, he said there was no point in throwing me a goodbye party and inviting people I didn't know or give a shit about. I actually got this number from him – in his own unique way, I think he was trying to help me out."
Her face pinches and Veronica sticks out her tongue in disgust. She was sure she never got Dick as a caller and now wanted to find out exactly which line of kink Nadine sent him to when he did call.
"See, my mom died when I was a teenager; same with my loser dad – not that he would have given a shit anyhow. And my half-sister is somewhere in the world – not sure where."
Lynn, Aaron, and Trina – even when they were together, Logan talked about them very little and so, in her mind, they are forever stuck in the tragic circumstances she will most remember each by. The image of Lynn Echolls as a dot, watching the video of her falling to her death of the Coronado Bridge; young red-headed Trina shaking with fear as Aaron stands over the bloodied body of her boyfriend, after Aaron beat him for giving Trina a black eye; and Aaron, smiling menacingly at her in the hotel elevator – bragging about how he just got away with the murder of Lilly Kane, before he himself ended up dead that night. Veronica starts rocking back and forth slowly, the truth of the life Logan had been handed becoming almost unbearable for her to remember again.
"And no special woman in your life either?"
When Veronica left Neptune, there was still Parker – sweet, strong Parker Lee. She figured Parker would have gone the distance – at least for a few years – with her easy-going nature and enthusiasm. Maybe it was her he went sober for?
"There was one girl – short, blond, smelled of marshmallows and Promises perfume - but I screwed it up – like I do most things – and she took off to make a better life for herself without me."
It wasn't like that - she corrects him in her head. Leaving Neptune was never about him, it was about her and the mess she had made of her life and everyone else's around her. It was about protecting everyone she had hurt around her – her father, Wallace, Mac, and even him.
"But I don't want to talk about her tonight. I can't. If I do, it will just make me feel worse than I already do."
Whenever she thought about Logan, she always imagined him coping – the way he always did with life – with friends and surfing and trips to Tijuana. Never in her mind did she think he was actually missing her. After Lilly died, he moved on with a host of other girls; after her, he did with Hannah, Kendall, Parker and...ugh...Madison Sinclair. Never once did she think that her leaving affected him in any way but as a relief.
Veronica pulls her legs up to her chest, wrapping one arm around her thighs, leaning her chin on her knees. She would make it up to him, tonight. She would make all of this up to him and give him one last indelible memory that he could carry with him and maybe comfort him on those dark and lonely nights away from home.
"I know what you want – what you need – a girlfriend, just for tonight," Veronica begins, tentatively. "You need one last memory to keep you warm at night when you're on that big boat in the ocean."
"A 'girlfriend', huh?" He chuckles. "And by the way, it's a big ship, not a boat."
"My apologies – something to keep you happy – very happy - on that ship of yours."
He chuckles again, that deep throaty chuckle he used to make when he was amused by her antics and her heart flips in her chest. Just once – for old time's sake – she would make him happy. He would never know it was her and he could continue his life without her. It would be easy; lord knows the things she described to these anonymous men were usually based on things they did together, in the dead of night, back in his penthouse hotel room, but she always managed to keep his name and face out of the equation, until tonight.
"This is probably something I want some privacy for, huh? Maybe I should go inside then."
She hears a screen door open and close again and the background sounds of the beach fade to the echo of his voice in a house.
"Are you staying on the beach?" she asks, trying to put some pieces of the puzzle together. "I thought I heard waves in the background."
"Good ear. I live in a crappy beach house that may fall in on me at any moment. I bought it sight unseen from a listing online while I was on a three day cocaine and alcohol binge. At 2 a.m. on the second day, I thought that having a place on the ocean was a great idea and dropped half-a-million dollars on a shack that was about to fall apart. My roommate promises he'll have it fixed up by the time I get back, but we'll see."
"You really did have an addiction," she murmurs, almost dropping her affected voice as she processes the information he has just handed her.
"Yep. It wasn't until my second O.D. that I realized it may be time to clean up my act and do something with my life. A professor from my old college came by and visited me in the hospital – told me his story was a lot like his when he was younger – and handed me a brochure for the Navy. It was like someone threw me a life preserver –I stopped partying, got sober, started studying. The rest is to be determined - my first assignment is six-months in the Middle East."
"Six-months?" Veronica gasps. "That's how long you're gone for?"
"Don't worry, Stacey, I'll call you when I get back – I promise." He chuckles again. "What you and I have...it's special."
"You're stepping on my lines." Drawing her teeth over her bottom lip, Veronica smiles to herself. "You know, if this fly-boy thing doesn't work out, you can come and work with Steve, our only other male employee."
"I'll take that and file it in my head under 'other career opportunities'," he banters back. "Thanks."
She hears the squeak of bedsprings and she closes her eyes, mentally preparing herself for what is about to happen next.
"Are you lying down?"
"Yes."
"Then close your eyes and imagine me however you want – blond hair, dark hair, light skin, dark skin – it's all up to you."
"Okay."
For a moment she lets him breathe into the emptiness between them, listening to it amplified through the phone.
"Tell me about your day," she coos, lowering herself down onto her back, staring at the ceiling. "I miss not being there with you; this long-distance thing sucks."
He lets out a deep sigh and Veronica imagines him beginning to relax in his bed . "It was okay. Had a meeting at the base and got some last minute paperwork. Nothing much. How was yours?"
Closing her eyes, Veronica sighs. "It was fine. Gearing up for exams always makes everyone a bit ornery – I'm glad I'm hiding out here with you."
"Ahh...yes...my girlfriend is a student – a long distance thing. Got it. Let me guess – art history?"
"Yes. My thesis in grad school is going to be on the phallus as an extension of the male artist's repression as represented throughout history in art."
That makes him laugh and she grins to herself, happy to hear him genuinely amused as well.
"When I get back, can I pose for you? You know, I've been working out since the last time you saw me. Lots of big, rippling muscles to sketch and highlight."
Giggling at his bravado, Veronica thinks about her fingers running up and down the deep indentation of his pecs, skimming the bumps of his abs as he stands, naked in front of her. What could he look like now? She imagines his body a little more built than Brad Pitt but not quite Arnold Schwarzenegger.
"This long distance thing is so hard – it feels like forever since I've seen you, even it was only a few months ago. I just wish I was there with you – to see you one last time before you leave, to show you how much I'll miss you."
"Will you...will you miss me?" Logan's words are soft, barely above a whisper and she knows what he needs to hear.
"Yes. I'll miss you so much, Logan." Veronica gasps, caught by the emotion in her voice. "I don't know what I would do if something happened to you."
He swallows hard, his speech jagged and rough on the other end. "Will you wait for me?"
"Yes. I will." Her inflection cracks slightly. "Will you wait for me, Logan?"
"I will. Always."
Squeezing her eyes as tears begin to prickle her lids, Veronica's fingers come to rest on her bottom lip, imagining what it would be like to kiss him just one more time.
"Tell me," she whispers. "Tell me how you would make love to me, when you get back."
There's a long pause and for a moment Veronica thinks she's lost him – he's lost his nerve to do this with a stranger and the impulse to tell him who she really is flashes through her mind, but she catches it before the words leave her mouth.
"Slowly. I would make love to you slowly." He sucks in a breath and exhales into the phone. "I would take my time to undress you, standing in the doorway to my bedroom, running my fingers over every part of skin I expose."
Veronica's body responds, sending a flood of wetness through her core and she crosses her legs at her ankles, trying to keep her physical response to his words at bay.
"Then what?"
"Then, when you were standing there, naked, I would kneel and begin kissing you, starting at your toes and working my way up to your lips."
Veronica gasps, imagining the scene vividly in her head.
"Yes. Oh yes," she murmurs. "Then what? Tell me what your fantasy is, Logan."
"My fantasy is you – just you, spread across my bed. You lead me over and stretch across, completely naked and begin playing with yourself while I watch and undress."
A shudder runs through her, trembling at the thought of him standing there now, watching her. Slowly, Veronica lets her hand slip down her body, under her sleep shorts, and into her panties. This isn't part of what she normally does, but knowing who is on the other end of the call makes her bold, just this one time.
"God, I feel so wet," she whispers, beginning to describe what she is doing to herself for him. "You standing there watching me is making me so wet, Logan."
"What else? Tell me what else you're doing to yourself."
Finding her most sensitive area, she begins to rub herself. "My clit. God, my clit is so hard when I rub it. I keep imagining that it's you touching me – with your fingers...your tongue..."
"I still think about the last time I had my face between your thighs – teasing your clit with my tongue. God you always tasted so good. And how you would grind your hips into my face and beg me for more, even after you had come. Are you thinking about that too?"
"Yes. Yes I am. I'm thinking about that now while I play with myself. Fuck, does it feel good."
He groans and she knows he's on the other side, taking himself in hand, and she imagines his muscular fist wrapped around his long, hard shaft.
"Fuck, I love your beautiful pink pussy. I can imagine exactly what it looks like while your fingers play in it – all soft and wet and perfect."
Veronica spreads herself, imagining him between her legs now and her ministrations increase, rubbing her labia and clit in fast circles with her fingers. Opening her mouth, she licks the air, lost in her thoughts of him.
"Your cock – how it tasted when I would wrap my lips around you – salty and acidic from your cum."
"Go on," he chokes out. "Tell me more."
"And then, when you would press the head of your cock just between my lips, and you would hold yourself there, teasing me while I would beg for more." She moans. "And when you finally would thrust all the way inside of me and you were so big and so long that I thought there was no end to you."
"I love being inside of you. Jesus Christ, that hot, wet feeling of you wrapping around my cock when I would thrust into you. Fuck, it's like no other feeling like in the world."
As her arousal mounts, Veronica can't hold back anymore. Every moment with Logan washes over her in a torrent of memory, threatening to drown her.
"Oh God, I remember. I remember everything," Veronica gasps. "I remember how your fingers feel inside of me – long and soft and always finding that place that makes me come. I remember how I would stroke your cock before I climbed on top of you and how I couldn't wait to ride you and watch your face when you came. I remember how you filled every inch of me, first with your cock, then with your cum."
"I remember it too," he growls, his voice beginning to strain. "I remember making love to you on the couch, on the floor, in the shower. God, I couldn't get enough of making you come."
Veronica works herself frantically, all of the intensity of their time together funneled into this one moment. Her heart is racing and perspiration is gathering on her skin.
"The wall. When you took me up against the wall – your pants still around your knees - with my legs wrapped around you because we couldn't get to your bedroom fast enough. God, Logan, I don't think I've come so hard in my life."
There's a pause and a deep guttural groan of passion fills the silence on his side.
"Yes - fuck yes. I couldn't get myself into you fast enough. And God, you were so wet and ready – like you had been waiting for me."
"Logan. Oh Logan. Please." She cries out in her real voice to him followed by tiny mewls of pleasure as her orgasm crests and falls, her body left shaking on the mattress.
"Shit. Veronica..." Logan moans before a deep cry escapes him and she knows by the sound of his ragged breathing that he has come.
"Oh no," Veronica whispers, her eyes springing wide open.
There's a deep silence between them as panic fills every inch of Veronica's body. He can't know. It's all an act – an illusion. She's gone through these fantasies with other men before, just never like this. But then, somewhere along the line, she got lost...
"It is you, isn't it?" Logan's voice is a quiet monotone that she meets with silence.
"Yes," she whispers, biting her lip. "How did you know?"
"You sounded – familiar – and then when you said – what you said about 'the wall' – that night in college – after we first broke up and you came back to me..."
Logan's voice cracks as he speaks and a wave of regret surges through Veronica. All she wanted to do was try and make him happy before he left and now she realizes once she hears the hurt in his voice, she fell back into her old patterns – she went too far and someone else paid the price.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Veronica gasps, sitting up as tears roll down her cheeks.
"Veronica , I.."
Those are the last words she hears before she disconnects the call, her body wracked with sobs the minute she is completely alone. Her hands covering her mouth to stifle her cries, Veronica rocks back and forth gently, her eyes focused on the pink phone laying a few inches from her. When it rings again, she nearly jumps out of her skin. With a shaky hand, she flips it over, seeing it's another transferred call from Nadine. Logan again? Or someone else? Either way, she chooses to decline the call and drops the phone back on the mattress. Jumping off the bed, she begins to pace her tiny apartment, her hands running through her hair as she walks.
She should have hung up when she realized it was him. What was she thinking going through with phone sex with him, when he didn't know it was her? But then he did, and she didn't stop, but he didn't stop once he knew either. Or maybe he was imagining it was her from the start.
The phone rings and she knows it's him, trying to get a hold of her again. She just knows and so she lets it ring and ring until it finally stops. He can't let it go – or maybe he will. It's not like he followed her to Stanford when she left – tried to contact her these past few years. No, he didn't because he was too busy almost dying.
Turning towards the wall, Veronica leans her forehead against it with a tiny thud.
"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck," she continues, knocking her head slightly as she repeats the words.
Once more, the phone rings and Veronica drops her head back, looking at the ceiling and groaning in emotional agony. Maybe she should answer it. Maybe she owed him at least that. Striding towards the bed, she grabs it, flipping it over in her hand. Lizzy's number appears and she lets out a sigh as she accepts the call.
"What in the hell happened?" Lizzy squeals, her thick Texas accent attacking Veronica through the phone.
"What? What do you mean?" Veronica stammers, all of the nerve ending in her brain completely fried by this point.
"I'm subbing for Nadine tonight and the guy who just called you called again and asked for you by your real name...like the whole darn thing! And then, when you didn't pick up the second time, he called back and offered me ten thousand dollars to tell me where you were and what your real phone number was."
"You didn't take it, did you?" she asks, knowing full well that Lizzy was in an even worse financial situation than she was.
"What? How can you even ask me that? Of course I didn't! He could be some guy looking to make a new coat from your skin! What the fuck, Vee? And for that matter, what the fuck is going on with you and this guy?" Her friend screams at her through the line.
"Okay...I'm sorry...I just...he was just..."
She pauses, her heart and brain trying to catch up to each other. What was Logan? Her old friend? Her ex-boyfriend? Or more?
"He was the first man I ever truly...loved."
"Well that's kind of funny, because he said the same thing about you. Of course, I didn't believe him, because I'm jaded, but you know, it's a nice thought."
Letting the words settle for a moment, Veronica takes a slow, deep breath through her teeth, trying to calm her nerves. Her eyes close and she imagines the last time she saw him so many years ago in the cafeteria at Hearst College, his face scarred, his fists bloody from beating up Gory Sorokin – another lowlife in defense of her 'honour' – one that promised to seek his revenge on Logan personally. Then there was that grin...that twisted of satisfaction on his face knowing he had punished the man who wronged her one last time – and the passionate rush of adrenaline that pulsed through her watching it happen. She knew it was wrong, but damn, it felt so good.
But then her own words came back to her – the ones she regretted the moment they left her lips. It hadn't been long before the fight with Gory that she'd screamed at Logan, telling him she wanted him out of her life for good. The look on his face, after those words came from her mouth – like she had reached into his body and ripped out his soul.
"It can't be true."
"Well, sweetie, he sure sounded like he did. He almost had me convinced too but then, you know, 'coat made out of skin' passed through my head."
Veronica can't help but shake her head and chuckle at Lizzy's words. "Thanks for having my back, friend."
"That's what we do. It's a tough job out there for us – we gotta make sure we take care of our own, you know?"
"Yeah. I know," she says, walking over to her tiny desk and turning on her computer. "So does that mean that if I ask you not to transfer anymore calls to me tonight, it's cool?"
Lizzy chuckles, a throaty laugh into the phone. "Yeah. No problem. Have a good night off."
"Thanks. I'll check in with you tomorrow."
Disconnecting the call, Veronica presses the power button, shutting off the phone completely. Sliding into the chair in front of the computer, she pulls up her internet browser and types in the url for Prying Eyez, her go-to service for all her investigation needs. It had been years since she used it and she quietly prays that her father didn't delete her profile when she left. Typing in her information and password, she exhales a little sigh of relief that her dad just kept paying the monthly bill for their services without thinking much about how many people were on the account.
Positioning her curser on the query bar she types in the one name she never thought she would use.
"Logan Echolls."
Biting her nails she sits and waits as the information on his history loads onto the screen, still unsure of what she will do next.
With a deep sigh, Veronica puts her car in park and stares out the window at the night sky. This far from the main strip, she was able to see so many more stars in the sky and the bright full moon gave her a sense of calm. Catching her reflection in the car window, she looks down, brushing the potato chip crumps from her hoodie. Glancing back up, she pulls the hair elastic holding her messy bun on the top of her head and let her hair fall loose. She hadn't time or money for a good haircut in almost a year and it now cascaded in long waves down her back.
She had made good time from Stanford – the trip taking almost nine hours in total with breaks and traffic. Now, sitting outside the beach house, she glanced at the clock as it blinked 9:43 p.m. She could have been here sooner, should she have decided to leave when she first got the impulse at 2 a.m. but apparently, she had to obsess about the phone call she received that night for several more hours - getting no sleep until finally passing out on in a chair around 9 a.m. When she awoke an hour later, she knew exactly what she needed to do.
Find Logan.
Prying Eyez gave her all the information she needed (his address and cell phone number) and some she did not (a police report about the circumstances of his first overdose at a party.) It was just a matter of what to do with that information that gave her pause. Sure, he offered Lizzy ten thousand dollars to give him her details, but what if she had done it – what then? Would she have been happy to see his face when she opened her door?
As Veronica drove down the highway towards Neptune, her mind ran through every possible scenario when she actually reached her destination. She knocks on his door; Logan slams the door in her face. She tells him she cares about him; he tells her he cares about her but they can't be together. She admits she's now a sex worker; he can't stand to look at her.
Each time she ran through a new conversation, her anxiety heightened until she found herself here, parked outside his front door. Nibbling on her thumb nail, she stares at the house. The 'shack' is a sprawling bungalow a few steps from the road with giant windows running along each wall. Sure, the wooden shutters are peeling and crooked, but to Veronica, it kind of added to the charm. Everything is dark inside; a small front porch light illuminates a path up to the doorway.
"He's probably not even home," she mutters out loud, her brain trying to make excuses to leave.
Her eyes skim the property, seeing there is no gate or fence surrounding it, her heart overrules her head and pushes her to leave the car.
"Fuck it. You drove all day for this."
Opening the door she inhales the cool moist air from the ocean and shivers. Closing the car door gently, as to not alert anyone to her presence, she begins her walk up the steps to the front door. She's still unsure of what she wants to say when she sees Logan, but at least she will see him, one last time before he leaves.
Gathering her courage, Veronica sucks in a sharp breath, squares her shoulders and knocks at the front door. Her heart beats in her ears as she waits. Nothing. Glancing for a doorbell she only finds a lump that could be the buzzer covered by a hearty helping of silver duct tape.
"Guess that's part of the charm," she says before knocking again.
Still nothing. Glancing in the window she searches for signs that someone – anyone – is home. Pressing her face to the glass she looks through the darkness, seeing the white curtains blowing in the breeze let in through the back screen.
"The beach."
Coming down off the steps, she makes her way around the house quickly. Finding her way to the back porch, she lets out a little huff of frustration when she realizes there is no one back there.
The wind whips up, tossing her hair and she slides her fingers through it trying to keep it from obscuring her vision. Turning to face the wind head on, she looks towards the water and sees what she came for.
Logan. His tall silhouette highlighted in the moonlight. He is standing with his back towards her at the very edge of the ocean, his pants rolled up to his knees as the water crests and falls over his feet. He stands straight in the wind, his shoulders squared, his hands shoved deep into his hoodie pockets. His hair is cut short and she can see the curve of his jaw, his ears, his neck in the soft light.
A calm sweeps over Veronica as she stares down the beach, all of her nervousness and anxiety falls away. To be near him, to see him, to know that he still exists in the same space she does, fills her with a sense of peace.
That's when he turns, as if sensing she is there. He pauses, rubbing his eyes as if she is a mirage, before his head drops, staring down at the beach underneath him.
Slowly, she begins to move towards him as if he was a stray dog, careful not to scare him away. To her surprise he walks to her, his eyes connecting with hers until they are close enough to touch. A bashful smile crosses his lips and he runs his fingers through what's left of his hair.
"Hi."
"Hi."
Dragging his teeth over his lips, he nods towards the house. "You found me."
"Yeah. Weren't too hard to find."
He shrugs, his shoulders hunching and he pulls his hands into his sleeves, leaving his fingers on the outside, holding the cuffs.
"I was never really hiding from you. In fact, I wish you had looked for me sooner."
Regret, sharp as a knife, cuts through her belly and her hand drops down, covering the imaginary wound. The truth was she should have looked for him – checked in on him, looked up his name, asked her friends if they had seen or heard about him – but she didn't.
"I..." she mumbles, glancing around as if there was a magical exit from the situation. "Maybe this was a mistake. I...shouldn't have come."
Twisting at her waist, Veronica moves but her body feels heavy, her feet rooted to the ground. When Logan reaches for her arm, she pauses, her back turned towards him.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean..." he stammers and she feels the heat from his body as he steps inches away from her, his hand still resting on her arm. "It's not a mistake. I'm glad you're here now. Please, Veronica, just stay, and we can talk."
Closing her eyes, Veronica takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly before turning around to look at him once more. At first, she keeps her gaze directed at his toes, partially sunken in the sand, but slowly she raises her eyes along his ankles to where his jeans have been rolled, up his thighs to the edge of his hoodie, following the zipper to his stubbled chin, his soft pale lips, the little divot just under his nose, along his angled cheekbones to his deep brown eyes staring down at her with so much sadness. For a moment, she pauses, lost in thought as she tries to reconcile the new slim features of his masculine face with the soft rounded boyish image of him she had locked in her head for so long. And now, she wants to know – wants to know everything that happened that turned her boy into this man.
"Okay," she says quietly and he nods his approval, deep smile lines pulling across his cheeks.
Sweeping his hand towards the deck, Logan steps back ever so slightly, allowing her space to move. She nods and makes her way quietly across the sand, up the few wooden steps to the landing before sitting down on the faded plaid cushion of an old metal lounger, facing the beach. For a second, she glances up at him looking down at her before she decides to move, giving him space to sit near her on the long pillow. Pulling her arms across herself, staring at the ocean as it continues to lap against the shore, the moonlight highlighting the waves as they crest and fall onto the sand.
"Soooooo...phone sex worker, huh?" he begins, adding a low whistle at the end of his question.
Pulling her sweater closer to herself, she continues to stare into the ocean. Maybe it would rise up and swallow her so she wouldn't have to answer.
"I need the money." Her terse reply coming out a little harder then she intended. "Stanford isn't cheap. And neither is NYU next year."
Lowering his gaze, he shakes his head as if hurt by her response and she mentally chastises herself for getting her back up so quickly.
"I'm not judging you," he replies softly. "I'm just trying to wrap my brain around it since this is quite literally the last place I ever expected to find you."
Giving him the side eye, she smiles slightly. "Ditto."
Logan chuckles, running his hands through his hair again, and smiles at her.
"Desperate times called for desperate measures."
Veronica chuckles along with him, shaking her head. "Never in my life have I ever thought you to be desperate for a woman. Ever."
"Not a woman. Just someone."
The pain in her stomach returns and she reaches out to place her hand on his knee, in the hopes of comforting herself just as much as him. For a second he looks at her hand, frowning, before covering her small fingers with his large palm and warmth begins to radiate through her body.
"I meant what I said on the phone, Veronica. On Monday, I fly out to Virginia not knowing if I'm coming back alive or in a big wooden box. Dick is my 'next of kin' for Christ's sake. I had to draw up my Last Will and Testament and since I had no one to leave my money to, I left it to a bunch of random charities. I'm leaving behind nothing and jumping into what could be nothing and I'm scared as hell. All I wanted was someone – anyone – to make me feel like I mattered at all to them – even if it was just an act. And instead, I got you."
The words sink into her brain – a direct hit – putting her on the defensive.
"If you had called me, I would have come," she retorts, pulling her hand away from his knee.
"Bullshit."
When he looks down at her, his brow is furrowed, his eyes narrowed, but there's still sadness behind his expression.
"One of the last things you said to me was that I was out of your life. And so I was – when you left town without another word to me, I left you alone even though I knew exactly where you were, because I didn't want to be that guy who became some kind of crazy stalker. I went on with my life – I coped. But then here you are again, just as I think I'm finally getting my life together and I want to know why? When you realized it was me on the phone, why didn't you hang up? And why are you here, now, after you told me you didn't want me in your life anymore?"
Throwing up her arms in exasperation, Veronica stands, gaining the higher ground on him as she stares down at his slouched body.
"Why? I don't know why. When I realized it was you, I panicked and then you said all of that stuff about being alone and I thought that maybe I could help you – since I couldn't be there for you when you really needed me. All I know is that I worked very, very hard to put you out of my head since I've been gone, and now I can't keep you out." Poking her forehead with her index finger, she cringes. "You are in there – every little detail about you is in there and now it's all just pouring out."
He raises his chin, his eyes meeting hers again and she takes a deep breath, trying to give him some truth in the chaos of her overwhelming emotions – trying to give herself some as well. Lowering her voice, her hands rest over her heart.
"So I ditched my jobs, and my studying, and my life to drive across the state of California to tell you that I do give a damn about whether you live or die. You are one of my oldest friends and you didn't have to call a sex line looking for someone to care about you..." Veronica gasps as her heart beats rapidly in her chest. "Because even though I said that I didn't want you in my life then, I just can't bear the thought of you dying and never being in it again."
Reaching out her hand, Veronica cups his cheek gently the dark stubble on his face tickling her palm. Just feeling his skin against hers again gives her a sense of calm as her memory triggers back to a time when they used to lie in bed together, her fingers trailing over his body under the covers as they talked about their day. Leaning into her palm, his hand reaches out to take hers and she lets him, threading her fingers through his.
She missed this. More than the sex, Veronica missed the intimacy of being near Logan. Her brain screams at her, trying to get her to say the words that were floating around in her heart, but she can't – she still didn't know why, but she just...can't. But she could show him.
Bending towards him, Veronica's lips connect with Logan's, hard and passionate. For split second, he moves his head back away from her as his eyes go wide in shock before darkening. Releasing her hand, he repositions his on her hip, pulling her closer to him, and she obliges, kissing him once more as she straddles her knees on either side of his legs before lowering herself onto his lap. A little groan escapes from him, echoing into her mouth as the seam of her jeans presses down against him. She cups his face with her other hand, forcing him to stay in place as she releases him to suck in a deep breath, her mouth opening in a gasp for air. Logan's arms wrap around her back, pressing her body closer to him before he recaptures her lips with his, his tongue searching out hers. Wrapping the tip of her tongue around his, she tilts her head, allowing him to deepen his kiss.
A lightheaded sensation rushes through Veronica and she realizes that any logic or reason has left her body. She is done with thinking about this – she wants to just feel again. For years, she fought against her thoughts of him, pressing them deep down into her memories. But now, being with him again, all the fight she has is gone.
He pulls away again, pressing his forehead to hers. "That wasn't an act on the phone, was it? It sounded like you were really..."
Veronica's cheeks grow warm with embarrassment as he calls her out. "No. It wasn't just an act. That was me. I've never...I mean...with clients..."
Logan's fingers brush her cheek gently, moving her wind-blown hair off her face and tucking it behind her ear.
"What do you want from me, Veronica?" he whispers, his eyes connecting with hers. "Because if this is just about sex..."
A million scenarios run past her brain – all of which she contemplated on the long drive down to see him – before settling on the one that made her both scared and thrilled.
"It's not," she chokes, her chest tightening as she tries to hold back her emotions. "I thought...maybe...we could try and work on things together."
The corner of Logan's mouth twitches before a smile spreads across his face, his eyes lighting up with happiness.
"Really?"
"Yes, really. I had a lot of time to think about this – and only this – on the drive down here. I mean, I know you're leaving and it would be a very long distance thing, and I'm packing up and moving across the country to New York in the summer, so by the time you get back in six months..." She licks her lips, returning his smile. "But maybe that's what we need; time to just write long letters to each other and talk on the phone and just get to know each other again."
Kissing the tip of her nose, he lets out a little sigh of contentment, his breath warm on her skin.
"So, no sex then."
Giving him a quick peck on the lips, she lowers her eyes at him coyly. "Well...I drove all this way...and I have no place to sleep..."
Returning her kiss, he grins. "You know, you can stay here. Dick is out partying tonight, so I can sleep on the couch."
"But, I only have these clothes...whatever will I wear to bed?" she coos, batting her eyelashes at him. "And what if I end up sleepwalking, naked? Who will save me from walking straight into the ocean?"
Logan lets out a low chuckle, finally catching on to her game. "You know, I could lend you a t-shirt to sleep in. And sleep on the other side of the bed – platonically, of course – just to make sure you don't accidentally walk into the water when I'm not looking."
Moving his lips to her ear, his warm breath caresses her earlobe and Veronica's heart begins beating faster.
"Or, I can just make love to you until you have no more strength to walk. Whatever."
Her breath hitches as Logan kisses her neck, his soft warm lips sucking gently on her sensitive skin.
"Or..." she gasps, trying to find words as a wave of pleasure surges through her body. "We could do that."
Veronica's hands find the zipper to his hoodie and she pulls it down part way, her cold hands wrapping around his warm body. Releasing her neck, Logan finds her lips again, planting his firmly on hers. With a quick movement, he rises, his hands cupping her ass as he lifts her in the air, her legs locking around his back. The sensation of movement makes her momentarily dizzy and she digs her fingers into his solid back muscles trying to find a way to attach herself to him.
"Easy, Bobcat," he murmurs, releasing her lips.
The sound of her nickname falling from Logan's lips again brings all of her emotions to the surface once more. Hiding her tears from him, she buries her face in his shoulder and he kisses the side of her head. A small gasp escapes her as she tries to keep it all in check, but then he presses his palm into her back between her shoulder blades, comforting her and she realizes that he knows – he just knows how all of her emotions are threatening to overwhelm her.
"We don't have to do this." Logan's voice is calm and reassuring in her ear.
Lowering her legs from around Logan's waist, Veronica stands, her body still pressed against his. Reaching for his hand cradling her back, she threads her fingers through his and smiles, blinking back her tears.
Gently guiding him behind her, she walks to the patio door, pulling it open with her free hand before stepping inside. The house is illuminated only by the full moon casting its light through the long windows. Glancing around, Veronica's eyes adjust to the semi-darkness, spying the open room closest to them – a queen-size bed in the middle of it, surrounded by open shutters on two walls, a large military-looking duffle bag laying on top of a long chest of drawers. Glancing over her shoulder, Veronica continues her course towards his room, pausing when she gets to the edge of the bed. She turns, placing her palms on his chest, his muscles tightening under her fingers and stands on her tiptoes to kiss him softly, lingering for a moment as Logan's eyes open wide, as if surprised that it has come to this.
Pulling away, she keeps her gaze locked on his as she pulls down the zipper of her hoodie, shrugging it quickly off her shoulders before pulling her black t-shirt up over her head, letting it drop to the ground. His eyes drop to her white cotton bra and her nipples harden in the coolness of the room. Reaching around her back, she unhooks the clasps before pulling it down her arms, dropping her bra at his feet. Standing in nothing but her jeans, her breath hitches in anticipation of what might happen next.
His hands lower slowly onto her waist as he steps closer to her, his eyes never wavering from hers. Lowering himself down onto his knees in front of her, he brushes his lips across her bare midriff and her abs tighten in response. Raising his head, his hand skims up her side resting under her breast, gently guiding it to his waiting lips. When his tongue sweeps across her nipple, a deep moan of pleasure rises in her, her eyes still never leaving his, and he smiles before doing it again, and again until her eyes close, lost in the blissful sensations he is sending through her body. His teeth catch the sensitive skin ever so slightly and her hands weave through his hair, keeping him close to her breast as little mewls of need begin to rise in her throat.
Veronica's eyes open again when she feels his hands begin to unbuckle her belt slowly - all the while still lavishing attention on her breast – and her hips roll ever so slightly in response to his touch. She holds herself steady every nerve in her skin on high alert, waiting for the sound of her zipper, anxious to be naked with him again. Logan's hands slide between her clothes and her skin, pushing down her pants and dropping them to the floor and she gasps as the cold air from the room rushes over her warm body. Finally releasing her nipple, he begins to trail small kisses down her stomach, pausing at the top of her soft pubic mound.
Her entire body shivers – not from the cold, but from his warm breath between her thighs – as he pauses, as if contemplating his next move. Logan's hands reach up for her waist again, gently pushing, guiding her down back onto the bed just behind her. As she sits on the edge, leaning back ever so slightly on her straightened arms, he quickly pulls her pants off her legs, taking her Keds sneakers with them, and she can't help but giggle. When he looks back up at her, his dark eyes are sparkling with mischief as his fingers trail up the inside of her legs, spreading them as he moves before he lifts one foot up onto the edge of the bed, and then the other so she is completely on display to him.
Leaning back on his heels, Logan's eyes refocus from between her legs back up to her face – his chiselled jaw firm and serious. The moonlight highlights all the new angles and curves in his face and Veronica's brain begins to meld the old image of him in her brain with this new, more mature version in front of her now. With a quick motion he pulls both his hoodie and t-shirt over his head, tossing them onto the floor and she lets out a little gasp as his toned, tanned body is revealed to her. Her eyes follow the deep line of his sternum between his hard pecs, down his stomach as she counts six bulging muscles above his navel. Apparently all those weight-lifting classes he took in college got put to use in the Navy.
With a small smirk of amusement at her, Logan drops to his knees, leaning towards her again, his fingers spreading her folds before his tongue sweeps over her parted, wet lips. A surge of pleasure rushes through Veronica and she bites her lip, trying to keep control, knowing now what Logan has planned for her. Inside the bedroom, they never had any problems – Logan knowing from the first moment they started having sex what she liked. There were no fumbling hands or unsure moves – as there had been with Duncan and Piz – Logan just knew her body, sometimes better than she felt she knew it herself.
The pads of his two fingers, pressed together, replace his tongue and begin to rub slowly at her entrance, causing her hips to roll towards his touch. Long strokes of his tongue trail up to the tip of her clit where they stay, his lips wrapping around the sensitive bundle of nerves, and she cries out as he begins to suck.
"Oh God...Logan..."
Veronica's head lolls back, her eyes closing as she concentrates on his movements between her thighs. His fingers easily slide into her and another cry of appreciation rises from her followed by a deep, guttural moan when he begins stroking through her wetness, all the while keeping his lips on her clit. Tiny mewls of pleasure fill the room and she arches her back, every muscle in her body tensing as Logan continues to send waves of pleasure through her. When his tongue rapidly flicks the tip of her clit, still warm in his mouth, Veronica can't hold back any longer and with a high, keening wail surrenders to the pulsing orgasm as it radiates through her body.
Her arms release and she falls onto the duvet, as she opens her eyes, little white spots dance in front of her eyes. Refocusing, she looks up at Logan now standing over her with a self-satisfied grin. Scooting further back on the bed, she rolls her body up to kneel on the edge. Lowering his head to hers, he kisses her deeply and she can taste and smell herself on his skin. This never failed to arouse her – knowing that by the end of the night they would both smell of each other – the room filled with the deep, musky scent of sex.
Pulling away from her, he leans in to the side table, opening the top drawer, he roots around before pulling out a condom package and turning back to her.
"I know, not as romantic as the old days but..." A wry grin sneaks across his face.
The unsaid. Who had been between then and now? She knew about Parker. He knew about Piz. But the rest? The others? Not that there was anything else Veronica had to share; she stayed on the Pill after she broke up with Piz "just in case" but that "just in case" never came.
Opening her palm to him, Veronica shrugs one shoulder and smiles. "I get it – better safe than sorry."
With a little glance from the condom to her hand, he hesitates for a second before handing it to her, stepping back in front of her as he does.
"If it makes you feel better..." She pauses, her hands beginning to unbuckle his belt. "I'm also on the Pill – so at least no small surprises will await you when you come home."
"You say that like a mini-Veronica running around the planet is a bad thing," he teases her lightly, tossing her a wink.
Unzipping his bulging fly, Veronica slips her fingers along the deep indentations of his hips, careful not to drop the condom package as she does. Glancing up at him, she grins.
"Let's make sure you can handle your one Veronica before talking about another one, mmm-kay?"
Following the grooves along his pelvis, she pushes his boxers and pants down to the ground, swallowing hard at the sight of his hard cock. Her mouth opens and she licks her lips, transfixed at his long shaft, its head glistening with cum. Placing the edge of the condom package in her teeth, she rips it open before pulling out the rubber disk inside. Positioning it just over the tip, she rolls the condom easily over him as he lets out a deep, deep groan of satisfaction.
Logan strokes her hair, his hand coming to rest on the side of her face and her eyes meet his once more.
"And how does my Veronica want to be handled tonight?"
His voice is husky and strained and Veronica imagines all of the ways they used to make love, not so long ago. Sometimes it was quick and hard, so fast it seemed like she blinked and she was in the throes of an orgasm; sometimes it was slow and drawn out as he took her to the peak of pleasure but never fully released her until the end.
"Slowly. Make love to me slowly, Logan." Veronica whispers, turning her head to kiss his palm.
Logan's eyes darken, his features serious as he takes in her words. With his hands cupping her face, he kisses her once more, his lips pushing hers open as his tongue searches for hers. When they connect again, she sucks in his breath as he exhales into her – the first step in them becoming one. Wrapping his arms around her, he kneels on the mattress and lifts her slightly, moving her towards the head of the bed before beginning to lower her down onto her back, all the while, his lips never leaving hers. As her head reclines on the billowing pillows, Veronica sighs in contentment, enjoying the partial weight of him pressing down on her body, warm and secure.
His hand reaches down, guiding her leg so he is straddling it and she feels herself getting wetter, knowing what he is doing and how he wants her tonight and she kicks her other leg up around his hip, pulling him closer. Logan finally releases her from their kiss, his forehead pressing to hers as he shifts his hips to the side ever so slightly, positioning the head of his cock between her soft folds. Pulling her leg around him more tightly, she tries to buck her hips up, seeking penetration as a deep want for him to be inside her rises through her body.
With a small chuckle Logan slides his hands under Veronica's shoulders and up to cradle her face before kissing her gently on the nose. His breathing is heavy against her as he pauses, his eyes focused on hers, but not giving her any satisfaction.
"Please..." she murmurs, moving underneath him. "Logan please, I need you...please..."
Only then do his hips move, sliding easily through her wetness as he buries himself deep inside of her. Veronica's eyes close, concentrating on the sensation of him moving through her tight walls, stretching her as he thrusts as deeply as he can go before stopping, lingering for a moment. His body wraps tightly around her pulling her close and she moans, enjoying the closeness the position gives them. She tilts her head, searching for his lips and he kisses her once more before sliding out of her slightly, his cock pulling across her engorged clit. This was the other reason she loved this position – the feeling of him inside and outside of her – stimulating every nerve in her core as he thrust slowly in and out of her.
All of Veronica's muscles relax beneath his body as she opens herself to him, in every way. His hips roll slowly against hers as her body moves with him, feeling him cover every inch of her. She loved this feeling of being so connected to him – something she's never felt with anyone else – and she always worried that in this moment of them being together that he could actually read her thoughts. Releasing his lips, she gasps for air, and he continues to kiss her cheek, her forehead, her nose as she closes her eyes, getting lost in the sensations.
"Veronica. My beautiful Veronica," he murmurs in reverence.
"Logan. Oh, my...Logan..."
Once again, her words fail her heart. She knows what she wants to say – wants to admit to him and herself, but she still can't – not yet.
His speed increases and a low mewl of heightening pleasure falls from her lips, combining with the moans of pleasure emanating from Logan. He's keeping them both on the edge and she knows it, seeing how far they can both go before they give in to their ecstasy.
The seconds turn to minutes as they stay locked together, perspiration now glistening on Logan's jaw and she smiles, cupping his face lightly before kissing him once more. She could stay like this all night, waves of pleasure flowing through her gently as he continues to move through her, against her. But then, she feels his strokes speed up, and she focuses on the build-up of pleasure as her body tenses underneath him, anxious for release.
Crying out again, Veronica's orgasm washes over her body in a wave of perspiration springing from every pore in her body as she contracts around his shaft deep inside of her. Seconds later, Logan follows with a deep, guttural moan of exertion as his body tenses, flexes, and falls above her – his cock pulsing against her soft walls.
Pressing his forehead to hers, Logan kisses her nose, smiling down from above her. Veronica always loved this moment – with the glow of sex radiating between them - when they are completely linked in time and space. This incredible closeness was what she remembered most about being with Logan and she knows this memory of tonight will linger with her for the rest of her life.
With a final groan, he slowly moves away from her, and she lets out a deep, deep sigh, raising her hands above her head and stretching in the moonlight. If she was a cat, she would be purring right about now. Following his movements, she watches him sit on the edge of the bed, his back turned to her as he takes care of the condom before laying back down, his eyes twinkling at her from the pillow beside her.
"Hi." He grins.
"Hi!" She replies, a little too enthusiastically and he laughs.
Sliding one arm underneath her pillow and another across her hips, Logan pulls her towards him, wrapping his warm body around her as she giggles, enjoying being enveloped by his muscular form. The moonlight casts soft shadows through the room and a soft breeze brings with it the scent of the ocean. For a time, they are silent, Veronica enjoying being close to him once more.
"So...New York..." he begins, kissing the top of her head.
"So...the Middle East..." she responds, pressing her palms to his pecs.
"Both treacherous in their own way."
Veronica laughs, shaking her head. "I'm pretty sure I can handle myself. How about you?"
"Top of my class in flight school." She furrows her brow at him and he laughs. "I know, right? But apparently when I like something, I actually buckle down and get good at it."
Moving up slightly, she kisses his nose, her eyes level with his on the pillow now.
"I've noticed," she says in a suggestive tone, and he laughs again.
Sobering, she strokes his face. "Just, don't die. Okay?" She tries to sound like she's kidding, but the tone that comes out of her mouth is a little too serious for that. "I just found you again, alright? I want you to come back in the pristine condition I'm sending you off in."
Logan's fingers slide up her side, over her arm, to rest on her cheek, and she closes her eyes for a moment, trying to fight back her emotions.
"And what about you? Are you going to be okay while I'm gone?"
Veronica's brow wrinkles and she scoffs. "Pfft. Of course I'll be okay. Why would you ask that?"
"What are you going to do for money in New York?"
Rolling her eyes, she tries to wiggle away a bit but his body won't let her. With a resolved sigh, Veronica meets Logan's gaze again.
"Are you asking me to give up working as a phone sex operator?"
Biting his lip, Logan glances away for a split second before returning her gaze.
"I know enough not to ask you to stop while you're at Stanford – and let me add that I completely get why you are doing it – but while you're in New York, let me help you..."
This time Veronica manages to roll from his arms before he realizes she's moved. The cold air hits her and she shivers, quickly sliding off the bed and grabbing his t-shirt from the floor before pulling it over her head.
"So you want me to stop being a sex worker but you're okay with becoming my Sugar Daddy?"
Rolling onto his back, Logan grasps his hair in frustration. For a second, Veronica stands over his naked body, contemplating her options – stay or run.
"I thought you wanted to work this out!" Logan gasps, his hands waving in the air at nothing. "Can you just listen to me for a second, so we can try and be adults about this? Please?"
Adults. Veronica exhales loudly, her hands on her hips. That's what they are now – adults – none of this teenage bullshit gets a pass any more. She wanted this. She was the one who drove all this way. She told him she wanted to work this out. It's up to her now to step up and make it right.
Kneeling back on the bed, Veronica shimmies over to Logan, sitting cross-legged near his outstretched body.
"Okay. I'm listening. What do you want me to do in New York?"
Sitting up, Logan copies her cross-legged position, taking her hands in his.
"Look – I still have my mother's condo in New York. For a while, Trina was living in it but she left about a year ago and I haven't heard from her since." His thumb caresses the back of her hand as he speaks. "My trust fund pays for its upkeep so you can live there, rent free. Plus, you can even sub-let one or two of the spare bedrooms for extra income so you don't have to work – you can just concentrate on school."
Veronica's eyes narrow. It was a plan – a good plan – but she wasn't sure if she wanted him to know it was a good plan...yet.
"Go on."
With a small chuckle, Logan shakes his head. "I would not be your 'Sugar Daddy' – you would actually be doing me a favour since my lawyer said I should rent it out, but I don't have the heart to have some strangers messing around with my mother's stuff. However, I trust you to live there and not trash it and find some people who won't trash it either."
Damn it, that is a good idea. Veronica lets out a little huff of frustration and Logan chuckles again.
"And...when I come into town..." he says, dipping his head quickly to give her a small kiss on the lips. "You are under no obligation to have sex with me. I can sleep on the couch in the office; it's classic Bauhaus design - quite uncomfortable, but very stylish."
Biting her thumb nail, Veronica giggles and Logan's eyes light up, knowing full well he has won the argument before she even speaks.
"Fine. Fine! You win," she says, giving him a quick peck on the lips. "I will do you this favour – as my friend and my lover."
Veronica squeals as Logan sweeps her up, planting her onto his lap. She wraps her arms around his neck and she giggles as her naked bottom comes in contact with his cock, causing it to twitch against her.
"Wow! Look at us solving this problem together. It's like we actually want this to work this time."
Pressing her forehead to his, Veronica kisses him, deeply, passionately before releasing him.
"I do, Logan. I really, really do."
Returning her kiss, Logan pulls her closer to him as the sounds of the crashing waves outside fill the room. The memory of his mission abroad sends a shiver of fear through her and Veronica pulls herself closer to him, trying to lose the thought in his kiss. She didn't know what the future held for them – all she knew was that for the next 24 hours, she was going to try her damndest to make as many memories as she could to sustain her for the next six months.