Running his tongue across his lips, Logan remembered her. He tugged at the liquor cabinet doors. Never locked, but always stocked.
He ran a finger across the labels. Tequila to forget Lilly. Brandy to forget his mother. Whiskey to forget daddy dearest's belt. What would it take to forget Veronica?
V… as in vodka.
The glass glinted in the light. On the rocks or straight up? Pain and alcohol, his most bestest friends.
Sighing, he returned the bottle to the cabinet and snapped shut the doors. Logan hurt like hell, but no amount of pain was worth forgetting Veronica Mars.