Veronica POV
I trail a few steps behind Logan as we enter the rest stop. There's never been any doubt in my mind that Logan Echolls is one of the sexiest men I've ever seen, but I am amazed by the changes in his body since I last had the privilege of seeing it. That sliver of stomach showed clearly defined abs that went beyond the classic six pack. Watching his back muscles flex as he walks a little ahead of me helps to distract me.
And I really need a distraction right now, though maybe this isn't the right one. Logan's single. The refrain bounces around my head relentlessly.
I suggested that we try to get to know each other again, I just didn't expect that revelation when I asked about Carrie. I was holding my breath, braced to hear him answer yes, that he was in love with her. While I may not have been able to open myself up to a significant other enough for love to develop, Logan has always been more open than me. He has been burned by love so many times, Lilly, his mom, me, but he never gave up hope. While a selfish part of me wants to believe that he hasn't loved anyone since me, nine years is a long time. As much as I want, I can't delude myself to think that there haven't been other loves in his life since I left him.
Nearly nine years and we're practically strangers. Everything we know about each other is based on a time in our lives that is best left in the past. How do you repair something that you broke?
I have no fucking clue, but I have to try. I can't lose him again. We've only been back in each other's lives for 24 hours, but the thought of him leaving is enough to make me want to curl up in a fetal position and cry. I am terrified. Not for me, but for Logan. If anything happens to him, I won't survive it. Maybe it won't kill me physically, but a world without Logan would break me in ways I can't even fathom. There would be nothing left inside.
Back at Mike's townhouse, I could feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins, amplifying all of my senses and emotions. I needed an outlet for all I was feeling, but didn't want to burden Logan. He was worried enough already. So, I ran to Mike; he has been my confidant all these years, so it was only natural to pour everything out to him.
Mike suggested that we travel to the cabin separately, telling me it would give Logan and I a chance to clear the air. He even suggested we spend the night at the Philly condo to prolong our time alone. I know what he was suggesting, and he's not wrong. It's hard to concentrate on Mercer and the case with all this tension between Logan and I. We're practically strangers, yet there's still a deep connection there, at least on my side. I honestly have no idea what Logan is feeling or thinking. I can't read him like I used to. His eyes used to say everything that he couldn't put into words, and lord knows the boy had words for everything. The man, it would seem, is still a talker, but he's more closed off, protected. I don't know if that's just his nature these days or if it's me he's protecting himself from. I've hurt him so many times in the past. It's still amazing to me he would even consider being around me. His reaction in the hotel showed me he's still affected by me, still wants to protect me, but there was fear there too. He was afraid of my reaction when he told me what he had done to Mercer. I could see his body tightening as if waiting for a blow. It's how I imagine he held himself in the face of Aaron's abuse. I did that to him. I loved him, but I treated him like he was a failure and disappointment. I played into all of his insecurities. I just wanted to build him up, help him become the kind generous man that I knew he was, but instead, I pushed him further into his self-destructive ways.
In my mind, I've played out what I would tell Logan if I ever got a chance again, probably a million times; now faced with the opportunity...it just feels like it's all coming out in fits and spurts. Having a hypothetical conversation with a person in your head really doesn't prepare you for a conversation with that same person in the flesh. In your head, their responses are controlled, but Logan doesn't play by any rules but his own.
I've gotten more comfortable sharing my feelings, but this sharing has me feeling out of control. It's exhilarating while being completely overwhelming.
My spine straightens and shoulders square when Logan holds open the door to the rest stop plaza for me. I have to make this right, even if I am terrified. I need to tell him about Piz. I don't know if it changes a thing, but it doesn't feel right keeping it from him, especially after his confession about Carrie.
Logan and I make our way towards the restrooms. When I head towards the women's he starts to follow me. Pausing, I look back at him.
"Are you planning to pee for me?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. A light pink color rises on his cheeks and he waves a hand, motioning me in.
"I'm just going to wait out here for you." I shake my head in bemusement. I understand the sentiment, not wanting to let me out of his sight, but his logic is severely flawed.
"How is this going to work? You wait for me and then I wait for you?"
"No, I don't have to go, so I figured I'd wait here for you and then we could grab some coffee. Not all of us are pint-sized people with bladders to match." His answering smirk and use of short jokes make me want to smack him. It feels more like us than the confessions in the car. I shake my head again and head to the bathroom.
When I return, Logan is pacing, keeping his intelligent brown eyes trained on the bathroom door, waiting for me while also moving around to take in every person that comes too close for his taste. When his gaze fixes on me, he stops pacing and runs a hand through his short cropped hair. It makes me nostalgic for his overly gelled, perfectly moused hair of yesteryears. It also makes me want to take his hand and reassure him since I know this is a classic Logan under stress sign. I'm thankful to see some things haven't changed and I still know him in some small way. A bigger part of me is just grief-stricken, though, that I'm the cause of stress for him, yet again.
"Coffee?" Logan tilts his head towards the Starbucks. I nod and we get in line. Everything falls to awkwardness again. Both of us keep stealing glances and then glancing away. It's very junior high. When we get up to the counter, Logan glances over to me and then orders. First for himself in a steady voice but then, with another quick look at me and a softer voice, he orders for me as well. I'm fascinated as he orders me a cinnamon dolce latte exactly how I like it with half the cinnamon dolce replaced with vanilla. It's a little thing, but fills me with warmth. I'm not sure where I stand in his life, but he remembers the little things and that means a lot.
While waiting for our drinks to be prepared, we lapse into our awkward silence again. This just won't do. We reached a new level of intimacy in the car and I don't want to see all of that hard work slip away.
"Logan?"
"Hmm?" He's distracted as he takes our drinks from the barista, moving to the condiment table to doctor his Americano.
"I don't want it to be like this between us." My gaze is intense, trying to convey all that I want to say. The corner of Logan's eyes crinkle in confusion. I try to swallow around the lump suddenly in my throat. "One step forward, four steps back. It's always been like this between us. I think we've broken down barriers and the next second it's like we're miles apart. I don't want to keep going back to being strangers."
I look down, blinking back tears, unable to hold his gaze any longer. I have no idea what he's thinking. I don't know if I've been clear. It still feels like there's a wall between us. In the past when we were at odds, I knew that he would always be there for me. Now, while we're in this together, it just doesn't feel that way.
"I'm not with Piz. I ended it." My voice is quiet, nearly a whisper as I force the information out over the lump that won't leave my throat. "I never should have started it."
Logan's thumb and forefinger gently grasp my chin, lifting my head up. I keep my eyes downcast, unable to see him. His eyes have always been so expressive, but now I'm afraid to see what they show me.
"Veronica, please." His voice husky sending a shiver down my spine. I look up into his soulful eyes and I feel like I'm falling. Everything around us falls away, it's just me and him. His eyes drill into mine like he can see my soul and a warm, safe feeling envelopes me.
His eyes travel down to my lips and I lick my bottom lip in anticipation. Coffees forgotten, standing in the middle of a busy travel plaza, I lean forward a fraction of an inch, inviting him in. Logan begins to lean closer towards me, his eyes nearly black as they focus on my lips, occasionally glancing up to look for some answer in my eyes.
The shrill sound of my cell phone shattering our little world. Startled, I jump back, his fingers losing their grasp on my chin. I search in my bag for my phone.
"Piz?" I frown, annoyed that he's calling, interrupting.
Logan POV
What the fuck just happened? I clench my hand into a fist, the one that was touching her face, to still the trembling.
Veronica steps away to answer her phone and I hear her incredulous "Piz" and I turn to retrieve our forgotten coffees. We're out in the open here, I can't afford to let us get distracted. Last time Mercer wasn't working alone, it stands to reason that he may have eyes that we're not aware of. Given how little we know of what's going on, we're being incredibly foolish.
Stupid, stupid Logan. Once again you're being incredibly foolish. I'm pretty sure I was just about to kiss the hell out of Veronica Mars in some random travel plaza in podunk New Jersey. As much as I am dying to kiss her again, now is not the time. Besides, I can't imagine being satisfied with just a kiss. The chemistry between us has always been explosive and should something physical happen between us, I don't want to be held back by something as plebeian as public decency laws. Logan, stop thinking about her like that. Just because she told you she's not with Piz doesn't mean you have a chance. How would that even work? You live on opposite sides of the country. You need to focus on the case, keeping her safe and going back to your life. You know the one where she's not in it, but you have an amazing career you love and a coked out ex girlfriend.
I stand holding our coffees, staring at her back as she talks quietly on her phone. Unable to hear the conversation but I can tell by the set of her shoulders that she's not pleased with what Piss is saying. Probably begging her to come back to him, that's what I'd do if I got another chance with her. While I'm over the moon thrilled that they haven't been together all this time, it still rankles that he got another chance with her. A sad sigh escapes my throat. I know I'm being petty. Lord knows I got more than my fair share of chances back in the day and I ruined them all. Still, to have another chance...yeah I'd give just about anything.
After what seems like an hour, though it's probably only two minutes, she ends the call and turns to face me. I raise an eyebrow in question, but she just shakes her head. Taking her latte out of my hand, she starts for the door. I follow along, letting my longer legs overtake her to scout ahead and gentlemanly open the door for her. Our moment is clearly gone and if we follow our old patterns, it will take an act of congress for one of us to bring it up again. Though that was the old us. Didn't our conversation in the car and her admittance that she didn't want to fall back into being strangers change things? I honestly have no idea how to proceed at this point. I'm completely lost. My instincts tell me to say something, but our past tells me to keep my mouth shut.
We get into the car, still not a word passing between us since that moment at the Starbucks. As she puts her latte into one of the cupholders and starts the car, I take a deep sip of my Americano, trying to get up the nerve to break the silence. The radio kicks to life with the car and I smile at the irony of the song playing. Depeche Mode's "Enjoy the Silence" mocking me. Is it a sign?
The silence holds, both of us listening to the song, avoiding looking at one another, until we're back on the highway. Just when I think I can't take it anymore and I'm opening my mouth to say something, anything to break this impasse we seem to be in, Veronica beats me to it.
"Piz wanted to know when I was coming back to the apartment. We're not together, but we still share an apartment. We're roommates. It made sense with New York real estate being what it is." Her voice is tremulous, like she's scared I won't understand. "I told him I was going out of town for a few days, but I'd discuss it with him when I got back."
"You didn't tell him where you're going did you?" There's so much to unpack in those few short sentences, I decide to focus on the immediate. I don't think it's a good idea to tell anyone where we're headed since we don't know how Mercer is getting his information.
"No. He asked a couple of times so he could tell my dad, but I told him I'd give my dad a call once I got to where I was going." She glances at me in surprise. Her voice is sharp when she continues. "I've been out of the game but I do know that we need to keep those in the know to a minimum."
"Are you going to tell your dad where we are?" Are you going to tell him that I'm with you?
"Until we know more about Mercer, his plans, how he knows about Gorya, I just think it's better to keep the circle of who knows down to you, me, and Mike." She sounds tired. "Don't you?"
"Yeah. I think the more people involved the less safe you are." She glances sharply at me at my dismissal of my own safety. There's more I want to ask her, but this path of conversation seems to be fraught with landmines so I quickly change the subject. "How much further do we have?"
"About another hour or so if traffic keeps moving. Course once we hit the city, we'll probably be moving at a snail's pace." She smiles slightly.
"I've never been to Philadelphia before." Her eyes widen at that information.
"Really?" I shrug one shoulder.
"Really. Aaron went once when I was younger for a movie thing, but I stayed behind with the nanny. I always wanted to run the steps of the Museum of Art." Veronica laughs and warmth suffuses my body. I've always loved her laugh. It's like pure joy in sound form.
"Mike's condo isn't too far, so if you want we can take a run there tomorrow before we head down to DC."
"You run?" I waggle my eyebrows at her and she laughs breathily.
"I run. I jog five miles everyday and I was thinking of training for the marathon before this disaster landed." Her answer smirk is smug and I can't resist teasing her.
"Only five? That's less than my warmup." I smirk.
"Some of us have lives and can't be all gung ho military types. Though it's definitely done you some good." Her gaze is appraising as it sweeps down my body. I shift slightly as my pants tighten at the look in her eyes.
"Glad to see you noticed Mars." I try to keep my voice light even as the blood leaves my head. It's a heady feeling knowing that she finds the changes in my body as appealing as I find hers.
"Last time I checked, I'm not blind. Military life agrees with you."
Motioning to my body with my hands, I laugh. "This wasn't just for the military, though I do have to keep in shape to fly planes. I really got into fitness during rehab. Replacing one high with a more healthy one."
Veronica's breath hitches and her eyes turn glassy. Shit.
"Veronica, no. Please, it was a long time ago. I'm good, really. Please can't we go back to admiring my body? You should really see my six pack" Please don't cry. I just want to recapture the lightness that we just had. Veronica takes a deep breath and smiles slightly.
"Logan, as much as I'd love to admire your body, we can't just dance around everything serious. Don't you think we've done this dance enough, ignoring the hard serious stuff? If we want to break that, we need to acknowledge it, even when it hurts." Her voice is soft.
"I'm not." I don't know how to finish that sentence, taking a deep breath, I start over. "Ask me anything. I want us to be friends again, I really do. I've missed you so much." My voice sounds pleading, needy and I pause to clear my throat. Needy and Veronica have never worked out in the past. "I just don't know what to say. Do we talk about the case, rehash the past, pretend like we've just met. I will do anything you want, I just don't know where to start."
"I don't think we can pretend like our past doesn't exist. And I get that there's going to be things we tell each other that won't make us comfortable, but Logan you were one of my closest friends once. I hate all this awkwardness and distance. Was it always this hard between us?" She shakes her head, disappointed. "Maybe trying to catch each other up on the past nine years in a two hour car ride wasn't a good idea. Obviously there's a lot to unpack there."
"We're together now. I think the rest will come over time." Look at me being all mature and shit. "I guess we are trying to force it. How about we start by sticking to our current common ground. If Mercer was in jail when I fought Gorya, how did he know what was said?"
"I've been thinking about that and I think you might be right, he must be working with someone. It's possible that the two met in prison, but I can't really see them sitting around commiserating on how much they hate Veronica Mars and Logan Echolls. At least not Gorya. I don't think we really ranked that high on his radar. And we know that Mercer is a manipulative bastard." Her face is thoughtful, eyes bright, teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she walks through her theories. Fuck, she's sexy.
"So if Gorya is out, who else is there?" My fingers tap on the door frame, thinking, trying to remember any other enemies I may have made back then. Unfortunately most of that time after the fight is a blur. A lot of the time before then too, I was self-medicating with alcohol and drugs long before then. I just took a few hiatuses when Veronica was part of my life.
"Moe, maybe? Until we do some research, I think it's all really speculation. Mercer liked to prey on the weak." She glances at me apologetically. Clearly I'm one of the weak he preyed upon. I lift a shoulder in a slight shrug, letting her know that I'm not offended. I've thought about that time a lot over the years and she's not wrong.
I must have seemed like the perfect mark for Mercer. Daddy issues, abused, looking for affection. All of it made me easy prey. I was desperate for a family of any kind, attempting to cobble one together with friends. This blinded me, making me willing to overlook just about anything if I thought the person was a true friend. I've long since figured out that part of the reason that Mercer befriended me in the first place was because of my relationship with Veronica. It certainly explained his fascination with our relationship and her sleuthing ways. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.
We lapse into silence again, but this time it's comfortable. Each of us turning the facts over in our minds. Sooner than I expected, we're entering the city, and Veronica navigates the narrow streets like she was born here.
"How often have you been here?" A slight frown furrows my brow as I try to understand.
"Ummm, a few times. Mike has a lot of houses and I often came with him when he needed to check on them in person." She shrugs slightly, tilting her head.
"Who exactly is Mike?" He's not one of the Hollywood brats so I'm curious where all these homes and money come from.
"He's my friend from Stanford." She is being evasive for some reason. I quirk an eyebrow prepared to wait her out. She finally shakes her head, pulling into a parking spot in an underground garage. "Helman's not his real last name. He changed it after he turned 18. It's not really my story to tell. He inherited all this from his family though."
The similarities between Mike and I keep growing. I don't know how to feel about the fact that she found a non-threatening version of me. On the one hand, I'm so jealous I'm surprised my vision hasn't turned completely green. On the other, I'm grateful to the man. It seems that he's helped her in ways I never could. I certainly attribute her lack of disappointment in me to his influence. I won't make excuses and I'm responsible for my past actions, but I can understand why I made the decisions I made and acted the way I did. Now it seems like Veronica does too and it bred a greater tolerance for my sins. Or maybe she's finally forgiven me for what I did to her. I won't allow myself to believe that she might actually trust me now, I know I still haven't earned that. I'm hoping though that in time, maybe.
Veronica reaches into the back for her bag and I'm pulled out of my silent musings. I take the bag from her and pick up my own, uncurling myself from the car. She leads the way towards an elevator in the garage and I stop in my tracks.
"Do you mind if we take the stairs?" I wince as my voice cracks, revealing my anxiety over the elevator.
Veronica's head tilts while looking at me. "Logan, it's on the 20th floor. That's too far to walk up. Especially after a day like we've had."
"I can just meet you up there." I don't want to split up, but my heart is starting to race and I can feel the cold sweat covering my body. It's getting more difficult to breathe and keep my voice even. I can't do the elevator. The few times I've had to take an elevator in the past nine years, I've only managed by white knuckling it or being high as a kite. That works around strangers who don't know me, but Veronica will spot my fear instantly. As it is she's peering at me curiously, trying in her Veronica way to decipher what's going on in my head. I shake my head at her slightly. Please don't. "I need to stretch my legs after being crammed into that cereal box car." Sure, piss her off, smart Logan.
"We shouldn't split up." She's right and I know it. She tilts her head at me and reaches for my free hand. I'm powerless as she takes my hand in hers and pulls me lightly to the elevator. She holds onto my hand while we wait for the car to descend. I try to keep breathing.
I'm riding in the elevator with her. I'm not going to watch the doors close on her in tears. It's not going to open to her kissing another guy. I can do this. I focus on her hand in mine, careful not to squeeze too tightly. My breathing is coming in sharp pants and I take a deep calming breath. The doors open and we step inside.
I hold my breath the entire ride which thankfully is very fast. Definitely faster than the elevators at the Grande. I scope the hallway the second the doors open, ensuring it's all clear before practically dragging Veronica out of the elevator car.
I pause in the hallway, dropping her hand, realizing I have no idea where we're going. Veronica chuckles behind me before taking the lead.
"It's down here." She saunters away and my eyes follow her swaying hips and tight ass for a few seconds before following. All that running has done her good. She had a great ass at 19, but now it's a work of art. Slightly curvier, but still high and tight topping long legs that have no place on someone that short. It's really hitting me that we're all alone, not in a car. I'm going to be spending the night with Veronica, in the same place.
It was torture being in the same city as her and not being able to touch her last night, now I have no idea how I'm going to survive.
She unlocks the door and glances over her shoulder at me, her eyebrow quirking, "You coming?"
I bite back my automatic response and shake my head yes, waving my arms for her to precede me. I look back towards the elevators and suppress a shudder. Hopefully, I'll only have to ride them one more time and then we'll be on our way to DC.
I follow Veronica inside and pause at the door to ensure it's fully locked, deadbolt engaged. I take in my surroundings. The condo is tastefully done in neutral colors. The lines are clean and modern, a complete turnaround from Mike's townhouse in New York. Veronica has moved into the kitchen, clearly visible behind the counter that separates it from the living room. Her purse sits on the table in the eating nook.
"Do you want something to drink?" Her voice rings out loudly in the space as she leans into the fridge. I find myself staring at her ass again as I walk towards the kitchen.
"Water?" My voice is shaky and I clear my throat trying to hide my nervousness. Veronica pulls a can of Skist from the fridge and a bottle of water for me. As she hands the bottle to me our hands brush and that electric charge passes between us again. I swivel my head around the condo, avoiding looking at her.
"This is a nice place." Veronica opens her soda and leans against the counter looking around the condo. It's clear that she's been here many times.
"It is. I helped him decorate it a few years ago when he decided to redo it." I glance sharply at her. Decorating doesn't seem to fit with my mental image of her. She gives me a half smile, shrugging her shoulders. "I've had a lot of free time since I stopped investigating. I needed some hobbies. I also knit now, badly."
The thought of Veronica Mars, intrepid girl detective, hard as nails with a heart of gold, knitting rips a loud laugh out of me. Veronica giggles along with me. It feels good to share laughter with her again. For as much as we fought, the passion that was always between us, this, the sharing of our sense of humor, getting one another in a way no one else did, that's what I missed most about us.
"So what about you? Other than flying, the Navy, dating pop stars, what do you do in your spare time?"
"The Navy doesn't really leave me a lot of free time, but when I do have it, the usual, surfing, reading, hanging out with friends."
"Oh you have friends now?" Her voice is even, but I can hear the sarcasm underneath.
"A few. So we're here, what now?" We've avoided talking about the case but I feel like we can't avoid it forever.
"Well, I'm starving so I say we order some food and then watch some TV?" She tilts her head as she stares at me considering something. I swallow, unsure what's going on in her mind. "And then you can tell me about your newfound elevator fear."
Shit. I knew it was too much to expect her to let that one go.
Glancing around wildly, I search for an escape. Seeing a couple of doors down a hallway, I latch on to the lamest excuse.
"Where's the bathroom." She points to one of the doors, her face scrunching in a frown. I mumble a quick thanks and head to the door. Inside, I realize I do have to pee and take care of business quickly. After washing my hands, I splash some water on my face and give myself yet another pep talk. Honesty, we're trying for honesty. I dry my hands and face and straighten my shoulders before joining her in the living room. She's pulled out a few take out menus and is sitting on the couch, her shoes kicked off and her feet tucked up under her. She looks up at me as I walk towards her and waves the menus.
"What do you feel like?" I take a seat on the couch, keeping a good foot of distance between us. She leans towards me to hand the menus to me. Instead of leaning back while I look at our options, she stays leaning, reading with me. Her position puts her off kilter and I half expect her to fall forward into my lap at any second. It makes comprehending the menus very difficult for me especially when a draft flutters her hair and sends the scent of her shampoo across my face. I close my eyes briefly breathing it in. When I open my eyes, Veronica has shifted, her face closer to mine making my heart beat faster against my ribs.
"Whatever you want is fine with me." I can't help staring at her lips only a few inches from mine as she pursues the menus. She taps one.
"We're in Philly, seems only fitting we have cheesesteaks." I look at the menu she's chosen, Steak and Hoagie Factory.
"I thought Pat's or Gino's was the place for cheesesteaks." Veronica snorts.
"Only if you're a tourist." Seeing my confused look, a sly smile crosses her beautiful face. "Mike primarily grew up in Philly though the condo is a relatively new acquisition. He schooled me on the various nuances of Philly. We came here on school breaks." She snatches the menu out of my hand and reaches for her phone on the coffee table. "So cheesesteaks. Want some fries?"
"Do they have any salad?" I don't really eat a lot of junk food these days. I've made a lot of lifestyle changes over the years.
"Are you really asking for rabbit food over hot french fries? You used to love french fries."
"Not all of us have a super fast metabolism. It takes a lot of work to stay in shape for flying." Veronica is blessed or cursed with a metabolism that basically runs hotter than the average person. While I've always loved teasing her about how much she eats, I also know that if she doesn't eat regularly, her body will eat itself causing rapid weight loss and fainting. "Besides, I like salad. It wouldn't hurt you to eat something healthy once in a while."
"I'll have you know that I don't eat like I did in college anymore. I have grown up." Her tone is indignant and her eyes flash in that sexy way that tells me I've hit a nerve. "I'm not the girl I was then."
She focuses on her phone, calling the restaurant and placing our order. The temperature has definitely dropped. Once she's off the phone, she pulls her laptop forward, studiously ignoring me. She taps on the keys, clearly working out some frustration through her typing.
"Veronica." I try to keep my voice calm, but I'm feeling unsure. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply…" I pause, I really don't know what I did to cause this cooling off.
"Logan, it's fine, really. I'm not mad." Her voice is tense, shoulders hunched. She glances up at me and gives me a wry smile. I raise an eyebrow, doubting the sincerity of her words. She definitely seems mad. "I'm not mad, really."
"Then what?" She looks intently at something on the screen. "Veronica?"
"I just wanted to get a jump on researching Mercer."
"Have you found anything?" If she wants to avoid, then we'll avoid, for now. It's not like there aren't things I'm thankful for a reprieve from. I lean a little closer trying to see the screen.
"Not much. Mercer served six years of an eight year sentence, released early for good behavior. Last known address in Los Angeles. No twitter, instagram that I can see."
"Moe?"
"Moe served two years and was released in 2009. He moved to North Carolina where he runs a tea room in Ashburn." She rolls her eyes and I smirk. "No social media accounts." The intercom buzzes signaling our food delivery has arrived. Veronica hands me the laptop and goes to buzz the delivery person up. I place the laptop on the table as the bell rings cutting off Veronica before she opens the door.
"Let me." She lets out a loud exasperated sigh. I open the door, staring intently at the delivery woman standing there. She rattles off the total and I pull out a couple of twenties to pay, telling her to keep the change. I hand the bags to Veronica who takes them to the kitchen while I relock the door. Veronica sets out some plates and cutlery on the table.
I pull out some more drinks for us and join her at the table. We both unwrap our steaks, awkwardly starting on our meal. I can't tell if she's still mad at me. I focus on my food, stealing glances at her every once in a while.
When I glance up at her halfway through my cheesesteak, she has a weird look on her face. I raise a napkin to my face, wiping. "Do I have something on my face?"
She shakes her head slowly still gazing intently at me. "What?" She puts down her cheesesteak. I watch, frozen, as she wipes her fingers off on a napkin and gets up moving around the table to my side, her eyes never leaving mine. I swallow, tracking her movements as she pulls me to stand. She raises up on her tiptoes, her lips brushing my ear.
"We need to take care of something." Her voice whispers and my entire body shudders. All the blood in my head rushes south. My heart feels like I've been running for miles, beating harshly in my chest. I draw in a shaky breath and lick my dry lips.
"What?" My eyes are glued to her lips as she pulls back slightly. She reaches out and wraps her arms around my shoulders, pulling me towards her. My arms slip around her waist and she rests her head on my chest. I hold her, my arms tightening around her when I realize she's only looking for a hug.
We stand like that for a few minutes until she pulls away. If it was up to me I'd stay like that forever, feeling her heartbeat, her soft body against the harder planes of mine. As she moves to sit back down and finish eating her face breaks into a large grin.
"We never properly said hello." I sit back down, but my appetite is gone. Who would have thought a simple hug could unnerve me. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah. Sorry it's just been a long time." She nods.
"I've wanted to do that since I saw you last night, but I was a bit overwhelmed. Seemed kinda wrong that we've spent all day trying to get to know each other again and yet we hadn't even hugged." She shrugs, her forehead wrinkled as she frowns slightly.
"Me too. I wanted to hug you too, but I wasn't sure if that was allowed." My voice is quiet as I fidget with my napkin. "The last time I saw you, you told me it would take some time and then I never saw you again. I'm not sure what the rules are."
"I don't think there are rules Logan." She drags a fry through some ketchup. "We're friends. We'll figure it out as we go."
"Friends." I turn the word over in my mouth. It doesn't quite feel right, but it will have to do for now. Not wanting to push anything, I steer us back to safer ground. "What time is our train tomorrow?"
"I haven't booked anything yet. I figure I'll look up the timetable, and we'll just go to the station and pay in cash so we don't leave a trail. Do you still want to run the steps before we go?"
"Yeah, why not? Who knows when I'll be here again." Here with you.
"Then I propose that we go for that run and have breakfast at this really amazing place. We can come back here, get cleaned up and make it to the train station around noon. There's bound to be a ton of trains to DC."
We finish dinner, and I help clean up before we go back to the living room. Veronica suggests we watch a movie and we flip through the channels, finally settling on Tammy. We settle on the couch, maintaining a distance between us. I'm acutely aware of her, every shift, every laugh, I barely know what's going on in the movie. About half way through, the day catches up to us both and I see Veronica yawn while snuggling deeper into the couch, trying to stretch out without actually touching me. I pull her legs into my lap, allowing her to lay more fully on the couch, careful to keep my hands to my sides. Her eyes widen in surprise at the contact, but smiles gratefully before relaxing.
I try to concentrate on the movie, but my eyes grow heavier and heavier. It's been a long day. I close my eyes, just for a second, and when I open them Veronica is leaning towards me, shaking my shoulder lightly, her legs still in my lap.
Not fully awake, I instinctively reach for her, my hands spanning her waist and pulling her to me. She settles on my lap and I burrow my head into her neck, breathing her in.
Her fingers trace my face. "Logan, we need to go to bed." Her voice is gentle, soothing. Bed with Veronica. As her words penetrate my sleep saturated mind, my body wakes up. She shifts slightly in my lap and I know she can feel my erection where it's pressing into her tight ass. My hands flex on her waist, gripping just a little tighter. She slips her feet to the floor, untangling herself from my hold. "Come on." Her hand reaches for mine and I get up wondering if this is a dream.
"You can sleep in here." She opens a door on the left-hand side of the hallway and releases my hand. "I'll see you in the morning."
I watch with longing as she makes her way to the room on the right, turning to look at me once before closing me out.
I enter the room, closing the door gently and flop back on the bed. I'm wide-awake now and don't know how I'll sleep knowing she's so close yet so far. After lying there agonizing myself with thoughts of could have been, I get up to shed some clothes figuring I'll at least lay down properly. While I strip down to my boxers, there's a small tap on the door. I debate throwing my jeans back on, but decide against it as I go to answer.
Veronica stands; uncertainty in her eyes, already having changed into a tank and sleep shorts, her hair pulled up in a messy bun, face sans makeup. She looks like a walking wet dream. Her eyes take in my undressed state, traveling up and down before settling on my face.
"You weren't kidding about the six pack." Her voice breathy, a light flush coloring her cheeks.
"It's the only one I have these days." She frowns. "Sorry, bad alcoholic jokes. Guess it might be too soon for that." She laughs and my answering grin is huge. "Did you need something?"
"I...Can I sleep in here?" She speaks so fast, I barely understand her.
"You'd rather have this room?" Maybe there was something wrong with the other room. She shakes her head and my brow furrows in confusion. My mouth opens as I realize what she's asking. "You want to sleep in here, with me." It's not a question, but she answers anyway.
"Can I? I know we still have a lot to talk about, deal with. It's just…" She breaks off, looking down.
"Veronica?" I keep my voice calm not wanting to scare her away. Of course she can stay in here with me. Even if it means blue balls in the morning. I would kill to have a night with her next to me. And it likely will leave me in physical pain since from her tone I don't think she's asking for sex.
"I can't sleep. I usually take sleeping pills, but they don't keep the dreams away. I've tried everything over the years, but the only thing that's ever worked was sleeping with you."
After everything we'd been through it's not surprising that neither of us have the most restful of sleep. Veronica never liked to talk about her nightmares, but I knew she had them. They were hard to miss when she was with Duncan our senior year. I'd hear her crying out in her sleep, the only time I heard her crying out when she was with him, and then the shower would start. I would lie there, angry and jealous, wishing I could comfort her. The first time she spent the night with me after we started sleeping together, I thought I'd finally get a chance to comfort her after one of the nightmares. But she never woke up, never cried out. I stayed up all night watching her sleep wrapped up in my arms. She never said anything. Some small part of me that I didn't realize was still broken heals with the fact that Veronica Mars still feels safe with me.
Veronica is still waiting for my answer, her arms wrapped around waist, holding everything in. I nod. "Yeah, of course." She smiles and walks past me towards the bed. As she curls up on the right side, I slip under the covers. She automatically snuggles closer to me and I put my arm around her and she settles her head against my chest.
"Good night Logan." Her breath is warm across my chest and my body tightens. This is going to be heaven and hell. Having her in my arms, but too much of a gentleman to take advantage of her vulnerability. I pull her closer and kiss the top of her head lightly.
"Good night Veronica."