Disclaimer: Characters and etc. belong to Amy Sherman-Palladino and The WB
Until we know for sure that Logan lives in that big room all by himself, I'm going to say that he has roommates.
This title sucks, but I'm bad at coming up with titles. My apologies.
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Rory Gilmore was bored. She was bored and she was annoyed. She had gotten all prettied up for Logan and arrived at his well-appointed dorm room only to find him deep in a poker game with some friends. She stole a quick glance at the girl groupies that were also present, catering to the boys' every whim. She hadn't been introduced to them and they didn't appear to want much to do with her. Colin had referred to one of them as "kitten" which she thought was a little much. Then she realized that she was just jealous. This girl had gotten called, "kitten" and all Rory got was a humiliating, "kiddo." "Kiddo" was reserved for her father alone, not for some arrogant jerk who was so close in age to her.
She didn't know who was winning and she didn't much care. She had toned out their humorous ribbings of each other a little while ago and she was now looking around the room as stealthily as possible, taking silent inventory of everything in it. She was originally excited that Logan had invited her over to his room. Since meeting him, Rory had dreamed up several scenarios of what it might look like. She figured it would be more sophisticated than the average college boy's room, but never thought it could look the way it did. The books, the bar, the fine art pictures, the cherry cabinets—it was the perfect definition of a bachelor pad, except for the fact that it was a room nestled inside a university building. She wondered how much of a say the boys had had in decorating the place. She assumed that someone's mother probably had a hand in making everything look attractive, God forbid the little darlings live in typical college dorm squalor.
A loud laugh snapped her out of her stupor. Someone had made a funny joke, apparently and Logan was cackling. She wondered why he had invited her over if there was already something going on. Did he not want to have "string-less fun" after all? Did he not want to be alone with her? Did he think she couldn't handle it? She certainly thought she could handle it. What she could not handle, however, was playing Fanny Brice all night. When she felt certain that all of the players were engrossed in their cards, she stood up and walked towards the back of the room, to one of the bookshelves. As she looked over the titles, she thought about how she used to never go anywhere without a book. Hell, she'd taken one to her first dance, even though she'd had a date. She used to select purses based on if they could hold books or not; the purse she had tonight barely held her cell phone and her wallet. I am a very different girl now, she thought.
Rory picked out Slaughterhouse 5, an old favorite, and sat down on the sofa to read. After finishing the familiar first page, she realized that she still had her coat and scarf on. Feeling stupid, she quickly shrugged them both off and resumed reading.
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Ten minutes later, she was back in a world that isolated her from the room's other occupants. She couldn't hear the clinking of glass, the laughing or the clattering of the poker chips. She didn't hear Logan call "time," either and didn't see him get up and walk over to the sofa. She became aware of him only when she got a faint whiff of cologne and felt movement next to her.
"Hey, Ace."
She said nothing, only continued to read. He had ignored her during the game and she felt as if that gave her the right to pout.
"Rory?"
"Don't you have a game to get back to?" she inquired unkindly, still keeping her eyes on the page in front of her.
"Not at the moment, no." She still didn't tear her eyes from the book, so he tried again. "The only place I have to be right now is here, by you," he said smoothly.
Still no reaction.
"Look, I'm sorry if you thought I was ignoring you. It's just…well, I have to be super alert when I play. My friends can be some sneaky bastards if they don't think I'm paying attention."
He looked at her pleadingly but her head was down, blocking him out. She had just started to read the second chapter when he gently snatched the book from her hands.
"Hey!"
"Ah, I've got your attention now," he said triumphantly. "Don't worry about losing your place, I'll mark it."
"Goody. What do you want?" she asked with a scowl.
"Well, we're taking a little break, I thought I'd come see how you were doing. You were looking kind of bored, to tell you the truth."
"I'm surprised you even noticed me," she retorted.
"Of course I noticed you. Why would I not notice you?"
"You said it yourself, Logan. Your friends take advantage of you if you don't pay complete attention, though I don't know how much good your attention was after 3 whiskeys."
"Well, I see someone was paying attention," he smirked. "I'm fine on 3, by the way. Anything passed 6 and I start to lose it."
"Six!" she exclaimed, forgetting she was supposed to be mad at him. "How can you have that much hard alcohol and still have all your faculties?"
"What can I say, I'm very talented in that area."
"You can get alcohol poisoning, you know," she sniffed.
"I know, I paid attention to my D.A.R.E. officer," he joked.
Rory wasn't amused. She sat all the way back on the sofa, shoulders hunched. He leaned back and joined her.
"What's going on with you tonight?"
"Nothing."
"No, I think something's going on."
"What do you care, anyway?"
"I care because a couple of hours ago, you were Miss Spontaneity and now you're sitting here like a petulant 5 year-old. If you're having a bad time, you can go. No one's making you stay here."
"Would you even notice if I had left?"
"Of course I would. I'm not so dense that I wouldn't notice you gone. I always notice you, Rory, always."
She sighed softly and rested her head on his shoulder. Yes, he was having a poker game and yes, he should have mentioned that when she called, but she could only stay mad at him for so long. After all, she had told him that she wanted to spend some time with him and she was doing exactly that. Maybe I should have been more specific, she thought, 'alone' as in 'just me and you.'
"I'm sorry," she muttered.
"It's okay." He placed a hand on her thigh and rubbed softly, sending tingles throughout her body.
"So this is your room, huh?" she said, trying to perk things up.
"Sure is. You want a tour?"
"Sure."
As they stood up, he took her hand and laced his fingers through hers, surprising her.
"So, we are currently in the living room, where most of our time is spent."
"Wow, I wouldn't have guessed," she remarked. He just shot her an adorable little grin and started pulling her along.
"Over there's the bathroom," he pointed to a doorway. "And don't worry about going in, it's clean. It's so spot-less, actually, that you wouldn't believe guys use it." She had to giggle—boys' bathrooms were notoriously disgusting. "Here's Colin's room," he said, motioning to an open door. Rory saw a large Dave Matthews Band poster on the plain white wall. The bed looked pretty Spartan, with plain sheets and two sad looking pillows. I have more pillows than that and I have a much smaller bed, she thought to herself. He also had a Metropolis poster, some Japanese looking thing and a picture of something that looked like a castle.
"Not very exciting, is it?" Logan asked.
"No," she agreed. "But Colin doesn't strike me as Mr. Excitement."
"Good call. He's pretty anal retentive. Doesn't really use his room for anything other than girls and sleeping and he falls asleep out here a lot of the time, anyway."
"His bed doesn't even look that comfortable!"
"It's not. I passed out on it once and woke up with a killer backache." She smiled.
He continued on to the next room, opening the closed door so she could see inside. "This one's Finn's," he said. Finn's room was much closer to what Rory expected from a bunch of wealthy young men. The light blue walls held were covered with post cards from around the world, a fancy looking map of Australia and New Zealand, a Pulp Fiction poster, some sort of tapestry and a ton of other interesting things. His bed was much larger than Colin's—probably a double—and looked comfortable and fluffy, as it should, for Finn apparently spent a good part of the day in there.
"Nice," Rory said, "but I think I was expecting a bunch of Playboy posters, maybe a Pamela Anderson." Logan chuckled.
"That's what you would think, right? Playboy bunnies, the periodic table of mixology?" She nodded. "We had all that freshman year. Once we moved into this place, Finn's mom stepped in and did most of the decorating."
"A-ha! I knew you couldn't have done all of this by yourselves."
"Who's got the time? Besides, she was happy to do it. And I'll let you in on a little secret—he's still got the Playboy pictures, but they're on the inside of his closet."
"Of course they are," she smirked. "Where is Finn, anyway?"
"Oh, he went home for the weekend. It's his parents' 25th anniversary and they're having this big party and they wanted him to be there."
"I thought he was from Australia."
"Originally, yeah. But he moved to the states when he was about 12. His parents have a really nice brownstone on the upper East side so he's there, now."
"I see."
He lead her across the room to the door that was directly across from Finn's. "And this," he said, opening the door with a dramatic flourish, "is my room."
Logan's room smelled like him—a bit woodsy, a bit clean, masculine. The walls were a deep hunter green that went beautifully with the hard wood floors. A Macintosh notebook sat on a handsome, antique-looking desk. He had an old Rolling Stones poster and a Reservoir Dogs poster but she couldn't recognize any of the other pictures. His bed was covered with a plaid comforter that matched the walls—and the part she noticed the most—a very decent amount of pillows.
He ushered in her inside and closed the door behind them.
"It's beautiful," she said honestly.
"Why thank you, Ace. Glad to know it has your approval." He kicked off his shoes and flopped onto the bed.
"And what if I said I hated it," she teased. "Would you kick me out?"
"Never," he replied, a smoldering look in his eyes. "C'mere and sit." He patted the space next to him.
"On your bed?"
"Yes, on the bed!"
She sat down on the edge and started to unzip her boots when she felt his hand on her back.
"Don't do that," he said softly
"What?"
"Don't take your shoes off."
"You took yours off."
"Just leave 'em on, Rory," he said, his voice suddenly low and dangerous. In all truth, he thought the boots were sexy. Well, he thought she was pretty sexy, too but the boots definitely added a little extra something. She shrugged and scooted back onto the bed, next to him, against the deliciously soft pile of pillows. He turned to look at her, a little smile on his face.
"What's on your mind," he asked.
"Paris is obsessing over Doyle," she said quickly. "I mean, can you believe that? Doyle! Doyle, of all people. I swear her taste in men has definitely gone down hill."
"Well, that's slightly disturbing but I don't think that's what you're really thinking about."
"Huh?"
"I can tell you're a little nervous."
"Nervous? No."
"Why don't you just talk. It might make you feel better," he offered. "You can look me in the eye, for starters." She turned to face him and he could plainly see her worry.
"What are you doing here, Rory?"
"What? I came over to hang out with you."
"With me or with me and a bunch of my friends?"
"I didn't know that the friends would be part of the deal," she blushed and looked down.
"Hey," he put a hand on her cheek and gently brought her back to eye level. "What did you think was going to happen when you came over here?"
"I—I thought that we—I honestly don't know," she managed to get out, her voice breaking a little on the last words.
"Oh, Rory." He pulled her into his arms so she was flush against him, her head resting on his chest. "I knew this was going to be weird for you," he said, his hands tangling in her soft hair.
"It's not weird."
"Yeah, it is. I didn't expect you to come over here and just sleep with me."
"Well, your friends are here."
"But even if they weren't, I still wouldn't expect that from you, not now at least."
"No?"
"No. How many people have you slept with?"
"One," she whispered.
"Exactly. I wouldn't expect you to just come over here and seduce me, especially after our last encounter was less than stellar."
"You mean you didn't-"
"No, I liked the kissing part fine," he said, having already anticipated her question, "but the being interrupted part wasn't so great."
"Yeah, sorry about that!" She had to laugh a little. "Look on the bright side, though. At least now you've met everyone in my immediate family."
"True, but I don't think I went over so well. Your dad called me a little weasel."
"Well, he was drunk. And I guess that it made him go into overprotective mode. He's usually pretty cool."
"Uh-huh, good to know. The other guy was much crazier, though. Who the hell was he?"
"That was Luke, my mom's boyfriend."
"Interesting…the boyfriend is crazier than the father."
"Oh, Luke is a much bigger part of my life than my dad! He's in constant overprotective mode. When I was dating his nephew, he worked out this crazy system where he would barge in on us every 10 minutes so we would never get the chance to do anything too dirty."
"Damn, that's rough."
"Yeah, well, we managed to do some damage on other occasions."
"Oh really? So you're secretly a little vixen, huh?"
"How was my mom?" she asked, eager to change the subject.
"Your mom? Forgive me, but that is quite possibly the worst phrasing I've ever heard."
"Why? I thought my mom said something to you and she—oh. Yeah, that's kind of gross. You know what I mean, right?"
"She was okay. She didn't seem to want to kill me as much as the men did."
"Good. She's the one you want to be on good terms with. You might end up seeing her again so it's best that she doesn't completely loathe you."
"When would I see her?"
"Oh, I don't know. My grandparents decide to have a party and invite your parents and tell them to bring you and then Grandma will call and invite me since she knows we're friendly and then she'll have to invite my mother because she knows I won't go anywhere without her and so you and Lorelai will cross paths."
"Just to be on the safe side, then, what did your mom say to you?"
"Oh, she was okay with it. We both acknowledged that the reception probably wasn't the best place to be caught in a compromising position but she has absolutely no right to judge me for doing illicit things with boys in inappropriate places."
"And why is that?"
"Well, with her last boyfriend, we were all at this event my grandmother dragged us to and we were bored, so my mother suggested to Jason that they go do things in the coatroom. And plus, I was conceived on a balcony, which is way worse than anything else."
"Gotcha. Wait…a balcony?"
"Not just any balcony, my friend, but the balcony outside of my mom's bedroom."
"Okay, I take back what I said before. Your mom is the vixen in the family. I guess I can only hope that some of that behavior's rubbed off on you."
"Logan…"
He rolled them over so he could look down at her. Her face was slightly flushed and it made her eyes seem more blue. Leaning on one arm for support, he reached out and brushed her cheek with his free hand before dragging it down her neck, over her breast and finally stopping at her waist. He kissed her lightly on the mouth and felt her shiver.
"You look better than 'nice' tonight," he said. "You look beautiful."
"Thank you."
"You looked pretty good yesterday, too."
"You said it felt like you were kissing a guy." Her voice had gone softer and lower. She hadn't heard herself use that voice in a while.
"Not the smartest thing to say, but I did say that I didn't know what I'd been missing."
"Uh-huh, trying to make up for it now, are you?" she teased.
"I think I more than made up for it yesterday," he replied easily, winking at her. The hand that was resting on her waist moved down and then up again, under her shirt. His fingers were warm as they caressed her skin, mapping out her body for future reference.
"How much longer can you stay away for?"
"What?"
"You were playing a poker game, remember?" she pushed him gently.
"I was, wasn't I?" he grinned. He glanced up at the clock on his wall. "I'd say that by now, Colin has probably dragged Kara into his room, Robert's watching a movie, the other girls left and Chris and Lanny are probably passed out somewhere."
"What about your dealer? Don't you have to pay him or something?"
"Ah, he's not a real dealer. Matt is a friend of Colin's brother. He was supposed to become an investment banker after college but he had some kind of epiphany and works at Mohegan Sun now, much to the chagrin of everyone he knows. I can take care of him whenever. He's probably either watching a movie with Robert or trying to pick up some girls."
"I see."
"Did you want me to go back out there, is that why you asked? 'Cause if I recall correctly, you weren't having too good a time watching me play."
"Well then I should have rephrased my question," she said brazenly. "I asked because if you didn't have to go back out, I was going to tell you that you should stay here and make up for your comments some more."
He grinned broadly before leaning down and kissing her hard, roughly pushing his tongue inside of her eager mouth. She responded with just as much fervor, her hands moving to grasp at his hair. His hand traveled up her waist, pausing at the bottom of her bra before continuing up and resting on her breast. He squeezed gently and she made a soft little noise.
"That better?" he teased.
"Oh, I'd say it's an admirable start."
He just shook his head and smirked at her. If she thought his previous actions were "admirable," she was in for a real treat, one that he was only too happy to provide.