Veronica POV
Waking up, I become aware of limbs tangled together, warm breath against my neck, and a hand against my bare stomach. The feeling of a good night's sleep suffuses my body with a languid feeling, and I'm loath to move and break the spell. Unfortunately, nature calls and I'm going to have to move sooner rather than later. I pull my legs from the tangled pile and slip out from under the arm holding me. Pausing to stare down at the beautiful man asleep before me, I am overwhelmed with a desire to crawl back into the bed and do naughty things to him. In sleep he snuffles and his hand grasps empty air. His eyes snap open, instantly alert, he sits up searching until he finds me in the room.
"Didn't mean to wake you. I just have to…" I let the sentence drift off and point towards the bathroom, sure he'll get my meaning. He nods and leans back in the bed.
I take a few minutes, taking the time to brush my teeth before I return to the room. Last night, it seemed like a good idea to share a room with Logan. It's been a very long time since I've had an uninterrupted night's sleep, and I couldn't resist when he was so close. Now, in the bright light of morning, I realize that it wasn't a very good idea.
I don't know exactly where we stand at this point, but setting ourselves up for anything more than friends is probably not a good idea. He just broke up with someone, I just broke up with someone. Even if neither of those relationships were life altering, it's still too soon after coming back into each other's lives to invite something more. The physical side of our relationship was never the problem, it was the communication, the trust, and jealousy that did us in. We might both be older and more mature; years past the trauma that defined us then, but the shadows of it still haunt us and need to be dealt with.
It was cruel of me to ask that of him. It would have been hard, no pun intended, for me to miss the erection that pressed into my ass last night when he pulled me into his lap or the one that was nestled against my ass this morning. The thought passes through my mind that I could offer to take care of that for him, but that definitely sends the wrong signal.
The truth of the matter is that I don't know what I want anymore. Seeing Logan, being with him, I can't deny that I'm still in love with him. Everything about him makes me feel more like myself, like I'm waking up from some long boring dream. But I don't know how he feels and honestly, how would that even work? While I may not be excited about becoming a full-time lawyer, I am good at it and my dad is so excited. Do I just pick up a life I've put together for myself here and move back across the country? Would he even want me to? Absolutely not fair of me to ask for more from Logan at this point. Of course, if I spend too much more time in his bed, I'm not sure how I'll resist taking that new body for a test drive.
I stare in the mirror, delaying the inevitable discussion we need to have. Why can't it ever just be easy for us?
When I can't delay any longer, I make my way back to the bedroom we shared last night. Logan has laid back down, his head under the pillow, bare back on display. I take in the muscles, wishing I had the right to run my fingers over them. Making note of the scars still visible, I walk towards the bed quietly. As I sit on the edge, Logan's muffled voice comes from under the pillow.
"Coming back to bed?"
I shake my head, but realize he can't see me. "No, if you want to do that run, we should probably get up and get a move on. I'm going to get dressed." He pulls his head out from under the pillow, his intelligent brown eyes scrutinizing my face. Being the perceptive man he is, he can tell there's more that I'm not saying, but decides not to push it right now. He starts to get up and I quickly retreat from the room before he can change his mind.
Fifteen minutes later finds us both dressed for a run. I grab the keys to the condo and my phone, following him out into the hallway. Locking the door, I turn towards the elevator, noting that once again he pales, his breathing harsh. I cut him off before he can suggest again that we take the stairs. I might run five miles a day, but I'll be damned if I'm walking twenty stories of steps up or down for something he won't even explain to me. I let it go last night, but I'm getting an answer today. Now.
"Logan." My voice holds a warning. He's not getting out of this. "What is your problem with elevators? You used to take them all the time when you lived at the Grande."
He takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly through his nose. "That's why." My eyes scrinch in confusion and I level a slight glare at him.
"That makes no fucking sense." I'm trying to remain calm, but he's pissing me off. I thought he wanted us to be honest with one another, but he's being evasive.
Logan leans against the hallway wall, one foot planted on the wall, arms crossed. It's not exactly a defensive position, but it's definitely not an open one. Thank you psych degree. I reach for one of his hands and he lets me pull it away from his body, his gaze fixed on the floor. We stand there silently for a minute until he finally sighs.
"You're not letting this go." He rolls his eyes. "Of course you're not." An exasperated sigh escapes him. "It started after you left. When I realized you weren't coming back, it came on out of the blue. I was still living at the Grande, but was looking for another place. Everything was normal, I left the suite, walked to the elevator, hit the button. Perfectly normal. The doors opened, and it hit me out of nowhere. I felt like I couldn't breathe, I was sweating and my body was frozen. I thought I was having a heart attack. My vision got really blurry, but I managed to stumble back to the suite figuring if I was going to die, I might as well do it in my room and not on an elevator where anyone could find me. As I got further away from the elevator, the pressure in my chest eased. I collapsed in the suite and that's when the visions came." He pauses, glancing at me through his lashes. I squeeze his hand lightly telling him to continue without words. "Not visions, memories, I guess. They just kept repeating. Your face as you got on the elevator after you found me with Kendall. The doors opening and you kissing Piss. Looking back at you after we broke up the last time. Knowing I couldn't fix what I broke. That you weren't coming back to me." His voice breaks, tears streaming down his face. He pulls his hand from mine, wiping at his cheeks.
Tears fill my eyes and I try to recapture his hand, but he flinches and I drop my hand to my side. "Logan."
"No Veronica, no. Let me get this out." He takes a deep breath. "I haven't been able to get on an elevator unless absolutely necessary since. I don't fully understand it, but it's like elevators are my own personal hell. Absolutely nothing good has come from me getting on them or getting off of them. I'll try for you, but it's hard." He takes a shaky breath finally lifting his head to look at me.
I move my hand slowly, giving him plenty of opportunity to push me away, finally reaching his face. I wipe the remaining tears from his cheeks. Raising up on my tiptoes, I kiss him softly on his cheek. His eyes widen, but I lower my feet to the ground putting some space between us.
"You win, we can take the stairs." He laughs shortly and shakes his head.
"It's fine. It's not so bad when you're with me." I can tell he's lying, but he holds out his hand for mine. When I place my hand on his, he entangles our fingers together and pulls me gently towards the elevator. "Just stay with me."
Stay with me. Is that for now or forever? I nod, unable to formulate words in the face of his honesty. Rarely has he been so open or vulnerable in front of me. He's truly grown up.
We hold hands the entire ride though I notice that he is holding his breath. I squeeze his hand reassuringly and he pulls me closer to him so our sides touch. He lets go of my hand as soon as we're off the elevator, his eyes darting around to assess any threats. Satisfied that we're still relatively safe, he allows me to take the lead for our run. We start off slowly, but I can't help but want to show off. My competitive nature coming to the forefront.
Very quickly I realize that this is a game I'm not going to win. Logan wasn't kidding when he said five miles was his warm up. After two miles, most of it sprinting to keep up with his longer legs, I'm starting to get winded. I know that if I don't slow down, there's no way I'm making it up the steps and then to the restaurant I have in mind for breakfast. Logan, by contrast, is barely breathing heavy and looks ready to go for another twenty miles. He glances back at me when I start to slow down. He tries to slow his own pace to stay with me, but eventually starts to jog backwards egging me on.
"Come on Mars. I thought you ran every day." He tosses out teasingly, glancing over his shoulder as he jogs backwards making sure his way is still clear. I am breathing too heavy for speech so I just flip him the bird. He laughs and turns around to run up the steps. I lag behind him, but make it up the steps to find him doing the rocky pose. I pull out my phone, walking slowly to catch my breath, before taking a picture of him by the statue. His grin is huge, making his face look almost boyish. I set the picture as my screensaver. He offers to take a picture of me, but I wave him off.
"Ready for breakfast?" He's jogging in place, keeping his heart rate elevated. Still too winded to speak I nod and point in the direction of the restaurant. It's only another mile and then I can sit down and get some much needed coffee. I'm going to have to work a lot harder to keep up with Logan in the future. The thought surprises me since I haven't really given much thought to a future beyond the next few days. I just know that I want him to stay in my life somehow. I just assumed that it would be a phone and email kind of relationship so it surprises me that I'm thinking about the next time we run together.
We take it slower on our way to the restaurant and walk the last two blocks as a cool down. I direct Logan to the line and we do some stretches as we wait to be seated at Honey's Sit n Eat.
"What's so special about this place that you're willing to stand in line for almost 30 minutes?" Logan asks as he pulls his leg up in a hamstring stretch.
"Besides really great coffee?" He nods. "They do this thing called a breakfast bomb that is to die for."
He smiles as I enthuse about the food. Finally we're seated and we both order coffee and a breakfast bomb.
"So we'll be at Mike's tonight?" Logan pours cream into his coffee and offers the tiny jug to me. I nod and he pours in just the right amount.
"Yeah, it will take us a few hours to get there from the DC, but we should arrive around eight or so depending on when we catch the train from here."
"Then what?" His brow furrows.
"I guess I call my dad? Catch him up on what's going on and we try to figure out what Mercer's plan is besides bringing us back together?" I shrug. I'm not really sure where to go from here. Running away and hiding seemed like the best course of action after everything we learned yesterday. I don't even know where to start. A thought occurs to me and I voice it out loud to Logan. "Why now? He's been out of jail for at least two years. What changed that he's coming after us now?"
Logan shrugs. "Hell if I know. Maybe he got tired of waiting? I don't really speak fluent sociopath these days."
"Your language of choice was always psychotic jackass, not sociopath." The smile that splits my face is huge. Logan returns it but then a shadow crosses his face and he frowns.
"No, that was my father's language." His voice is quiet and he's looking down at his food as if it holds all the answers.
I put my hand on top of his. "You're nothing like him. You never were." He smiles shyly at me and intertwines our fingers. Turning the conversation back to our current trauma I think about why now. My nose scrunches as I try to think of a reason. "Maybe he just got tired of waiting? Or maybe it took him this long to find a way to infiltrate our lives?"
Logan looks pensive. "So if he's infiltrated, which by the clues he's left seems like as good a theory as any we've got, then it stands to reason he's working through someone one of us is in contact with. Someone who knows our history. I mean I barely remember what I said to Gorya that day in the cafeteria. That was pretty specific to get you to think I was in danger."
"There were like sixty people there that day though. Anyone of them could be the originator of that piece of information." I flip through my memories of that day, but honestly other than Piz, Gorya, and Logan I can't really name another person who was there. My focus was solely on Logan, I barely even registered Piz until Logan left and I saw his crestfallen expression. "Did you ever talk about it with anyone?"
"Not likely, except maybe Dick. I can't say for sure since so much of that time is a blur, but it really doesn't sound like something I would do. I'm not much for talking about anything personal and even before I realized that you weren't coming back," He shudders in remembrance and I make a mental note to ask him how he did find out, later. It's not relevant to our current situation, but I wouldn't be me if I didn't want to know everything about him, even the bad. "I was pretty much keeping everything about you very close. As I learned from Parker, not many women want to take a chance on you when you're still crazy in love with your ex."
Past tense. I guess I knew that he was in love with me still after we broke up, but it never really registered. He moved on so quickly with Parker and he seemed to be really happy with her. That didn't exactly scream ever lasting love. Then again, I really was only seeing what I wanted to see back then, too scared to trust that he really loved me. I had so many stupid ideas back then about life and love. It cost me so much.
"Well, I didn't talk about it with anyone until just the other night when I told Mike what you had said. I had told him about that last day at Hearst and the fight, of course, but not the words you said when Gorya threatened you. I hadn't even thought about them until I got that note and the photos." I shake my head, feeling like there's a piece I'm missing, but it's just out of my reach. "I think that quote might be a dead end for now. So the hair. Obviously you knew since you found me and I knew, but other than that the only ones I know for sure are Mercer and Moe. I never told Mike, Wallace, Mac or even my dad about Moe shaving off some of my hair to give Mercer an alibi."
A shadow passes over Logan's face again and his hand tightens around mine. "What?" He shakes his head. "Logan, please. We're in this together, we need to be honest with each other."
"It's just…" He trails off, his eyes shifting to focus on the ceiling as he blows out a breath. "Mercer used me to get to you for his alibi. Yet he still had Moe drug and attack you. He knew I had asked you to help him. I guess he was just getting desperate. It just never made sense to me."
"I think if someone, even me, had looked into his alibi a little more it would have been easy to discredit. The only reason I thought the radio show schedule was a solid alibi is because Piz told me it was a call in show. He didn't seem to think that it could have been pre-recorded." I shrug at how naive I was back then even when I thought I knew everything. It probably didn't help that I was more focused on what Logan wouldn't tell me and why.
"You never told me that." His lips pinch at the corners in a frown.
"I never told you what?"
"That Piss had told you that it couldn't be pre-recorded." I level a glare at him. Piz and I might not be together anymore and he's been working my last nerve, but he's still my friend. Logan smirks, unrepentant.
"I had no reason to question Piz, he worked at the station." I stress the z in Piz's name.
Logan shrugs telling me without words that he could give zero fucks about what his name is. "Piss could have known him. He could be another Moe. Never struck me as the strongest of people." Oh fun, the psychotic jackass is making another appearance.
"I highly doubt that. Mercer and Piz didn't have much in common." My eyes tighten as I think about what Mercer and Logan had in common back then. It still irks me, but its stupid really. Logan was a kid, he wasn't really doing anything a million other college students weren't doing.
"Did Moe and Mercer have a lot in common then?" He raises an eyebrow. My mouth drops open on a gasp as I realize he's right. Moe and Mercer had nothing in common. Their master/pet relationship was created during that stupid prison experiment in a sociology class. Still that doesn't mean Piz would have been involved. The more likely answer is that he just didn't know that Mercer was pre-recording the shows. I say as much to Logan, but he doesn't seem convinced.
"What would Piz have to gain by working with Mercer? I was already dating him." I leave off the fact that while we did have separate bedrooms, we had had sex this time around. Logan's eyes narrow as he hears what I'm not saying. I shrug. What, I'm not a saint and I was dating him.
Logan decides not to fight me on this, though I can tell this topic may come up again.
"Well, we've really made a lot of progress haven't we?" His voice drips with sarcasm.
"Yeah, as much as I hate to say it, I think that we're going to have to wait until he makes his next move." I frown at the thought as I stare intently into Logan's eyes.
Logan balls his free hand into a fist, his shoulders tight. I recognize it as his "I'm going to kick someone's ass" stance. I stroke the fingers of the hand I'm holding trying to calm him down. He takes a deep breath and releases his fist, but his shoulders remain stiff.
"What if his next move is his final move? He obviously wanted us to be together for this. That doesn't really bode well for either of us." He rubs his thumb over my knuckles and a shiver runs up my spine. His eyes are dark and intense as he gazes at me.
"I don't have an answer Logan." My voice comes out high pitched, my anxiety and fears leaking through. "I know as much as you do at this point, but without anything but the original note and the hair, I don't know what we should do." I wave over our waitress to ask for the check as I pull out the cash I keep behind my phone case. We should really get a move on.
Logan pushes my money away, pulling out his own cash and handing it to the waitress. The camaraderie between us that we forged during our run is gone and we're back to the awkward feeling. Logan suggests jogging back to the condo, but I'm suddenly exhausted. This is all too much. How did I do this constantly back in high school and college? The stress, the unknowns, it's all weighing on me until I feel like I just want to scream. Why did I think this was fun?
We decide to walk, trying to enjoy the weather, but after two blocks of Logan constantly scanning for threats, and I ask to take a cab back. He agrees, letting out a small sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing a little.
Back at the condo, we're faced with the elevator yet again, but this time, Logan just grasps my hand and pulls me close to him. I wrap an arm around his waist, leaning into him and he smiles down at me. Off the elevator, he scans the hallways before leading the way to the condo. As he checks the deadbolt, he mutters something about the military.
"What did you say?" I quirk an eyebrow at him and his lips twist in his trademark smirk.
"I was just thinking that this is all like the military. Hurry up and wait. There was this rush to get us together and now we're just waiting to see what happens." He frowns. "I really don't like waiting."
He looks so put upon that it makes me laugh. "And I'm the queen of Patienceville?"
"No, you're more like Cindy Lou Who." He chuckles as he bops me on the nose with his finger. I give him my best "don't mess with me" stare, but it only makes him laugh harder. "I make a short joke and get your meanest looks, but Mike calls you Pixie constantly and you don't bat an eye. Where's the fairness in that?"
"Mike earned that nickname, you just like to make fun of my vertical challenges." It feels good to banter with him. Less like our lives are in mortal danger, more like us being us. We really did have some good times together. I sigh as the sadness of our current relationship washes over me again. I really messed up a good thing and it's one of my biggest regrets.
Logan gazes at me intently, his velvet eyes scrutinizing every inch of my face. His finger traces from my forehead to my chin. I hold my breath. "Whatever you're thinking right now, it's not my favorite. What's going on in that beautiful head of yours?"
I bite my lip, trying to figure out how to phrase what I'm thinking. "I don't know. It's everything, Mercer, you, me. I'm just overwhelmed I think. It's a lot to process. Everything in my life is just so unsettled right now and I'm feeling really lost." Another sad sigh escapes my throat. I shift my gaze so I can't see his eyes. His compassion and understanding aren't something I can handle right now. My voice is barely a whisper as I continue trying to explain. "I don't know who I am anymore. This, trying to solve a mystery, it seems right, but it also seems wrong." I risk a glance back up. Logan's mouth is open and his eyes seem watery. I expected a lot of reactions to my confession, but this wasn't one of them.
He clears his throat. "Veronica." I hold his gaze, waiting for him to say something else, but he remains silent. After a few seconds, I break away.
"I'm just going to go get a shower." I toss over my shoulder as I head to the bathroom. Inside, I turn on the water to a near scalding temperature. I don't know why I opened up like that. It's not something I would normally do, not even with Mike. Usually Mike has to pull that sort of information out of me. It's just that Logan is special and I want to be completely honest with him. I know that I hurt him a lot in the past and I don't want there to be any confusion between us. I'm still hoping for something.
As I step into the shower, I try to figure out what I want. Career, future, Logan. It's all a blurry picture at this point. Become a lawyer, go back to investigating. Stay in New York, move back to California. These aren't my only choices, but decisions elude me nonetheless. As for Logan...I want him. Not just as my friend, though I'll take that if that's all I can have, but as my love. I want him to be the one I come home to, the one I share my life with. It's more than physical, it's a soul deep connection that's been there since the day we met. He's my other half and all these years without him, I've just been stumbling around, half a person. Being with him, even with all the uncertainty, I feel complete, at home in my skin again. It's amazing and terrifying.
Now I just have to keep us both alive and then maybe we can explore what he wants as well.
Logan POV
I watch Veronica run. Technically, I guess she's walking to the bathroom, but it feels like she's running. What she said yesterday about us moving one step forward and four steps back rings true to me in that moment. She was finally opening up, letting herself be vulnerable, and then she shut down and ran. Someday I'm going to fill that girl's boots with cement so she can't run from me.
She caught me off guard. I'm still trying to reconcile the girl I once knew with the woman that she's become. The girl I knew wouldn't have been that honest with me. She was always in control, always knew where she was going and what she was doing. This woman, though, has insecurities that she's not afraid to show. She isn't sure what she's doing and is willing to admit that she doesn't have all the answers. It's such a change that I'm struggling to keep up.
The condo only has one shower, so I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and flop down on the couch. I take a swig of water, my eyes trained on the bathroom door. After putting the water down on the coffee table, careful to use a coaster cause manners, I rub my hands over my face. Honestly I'm feeling overwhelmed. There's so much to process and my emotions are all over the place. Not to mention the haywire of hormones rocketing through my body everytime I see or think about her. Knowing she's naked fifteen feet away from me right this minute really doesn't help.
I lean my head back on the couch, staring at the ceiling, trying to calm my rioting thoughts. I need her, I want her, but I don't even know her anymore. Nothing is clear. I really called it when I said no one writes songs about the easy ones. If I had known how prophetic that whole speech would become, I never would have said it. God I was such a drama queen back then. I let out a heavy sigh. The only thing I know for sure is that I feel connected to her. It's more than physical, although she still is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. This connection goes to the very marrow of my bones. There's a rightness to us being with one another that I've never felt with anyone else, not Carrie, not even Lilly. When I'm near her, I feel..home. She's the other half of me. Surely that ought to be enough to overcome this awkward place we find ourselves in.
The shower turns off and I try to distract myself from thoughts of her naked and wet, combing through that silky hair. Dammit. The harder I try to not think about her, the more I do. It's like a perverted version of if you give a mouse a cookie. I shift on the couch, my cock is hard to the point of pain. It doesn't help that I spent the night with her in my arms, that lucious ass pressed up against me. I knew when I agreed to share the bed with her that it was going to be torture, but this is just getting ridiculous. I need to take care of this before I do something completely stupid and freak her out more than she already is. Now is not the time to push for a physical relationship even if my body is screaming for it. It might be easier if I didn't already know that it would be some of the best sex of my life. I've slept with a lot of people over the years, but Veronica, even inexperienced, was on a whole other level. I don't know how to describe it exactly. It was part the intimacy of being in love and part just physical.
The bathroom door opens and she comes out with her wet hair in a messy bun. She's changed into a pair of dark skinny jeans tucked into a pair of black boots paired with a silky sapphire blue v-neck top that makes her eyes sparkle. There is absolutely no way to hide my continued reaction to her in my running shorts so I don't bother as I get up to make my way to the shower. A shower that I desperately need at this point to keep myself from ripping those clothes from her body with my teeth, seeing if she still tastes like honey. I skirt around her, keeping my eyes on the floor. She moves out of my way clearing the path so we don't accidentally touch.
Once safely in the bathroom, I shed my clothes, debating whether to take a cold shower or indulge in taking care of things myself. On the one hand, the cold shower will tamp down my erection, it's a proven method, but one I've found that only works until I'm once again faced with Veronica in all her splendor. Taking care of it seems skeezy though since she's just a few feet away and I doubt she missed the extreme tenting of my shorts. Finally, the memory of the way the blue of her shirt lit up her eyes decides me. I just have to make it quick.
For the second time in two days, I allow myself to indulge in the memories and fantasies of Veronica. Standing under the hot stream of water, I imagine her joining me, her alabaster skin glistening with moisture. I take myself in hand, stroking slowly up and down, building the scene in my head. Her body up against mine, slick skin sliding against one another. Her soft breasts brushing against my chest, her arms around my neck. Oh god. My strokes speed up as a I think about the way she scratches her fingernails over the back of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. My heart is beating a samba against my ribs as I picture kneeling down in front of her, lifting her leg to my shoulder. I slowly lick up her center, pausing to flick my tongue against her clit before running my tongue back down, teasing her. I add a twist as I continue to stroke my cock, mimicking the move Veronica always did when she rode me. As I work my way back up to her clit, sucking gently, I can feel my balls start to tighten.
I lean against the shower wall, my one hand still pumping, bringing me closer and closer while I rest my head against the other on the wall. Somewhere in my head is the thought that I can't finish before her, but my body is not listening to me and I come hard, my mouth firmly sucking on her clit in my mind.
"Fuck, Veronica, fuck." I have enough presence of mind to not shout, my voice coming out in a whisper. I stay leaning trying to catch my breath. When the haze clears my eyes, I quickly clean up and leave the shower. I forgot to grab clothes so I attempt to quietly make my way back to the bedroom wearing only a towel.
After I'm dressed, I pack up the little I pulled out of my bag and head to the living room. Veronica is sitting on the couch looking at something on her phone.
"Anything good?" My voice is light. I feel less tense now that I've relieved some of the pressure our close proximity created. Veronica looks up at me and smirks at me knowingly.
"Good shower?" She doesn't even bother to acknowledge my question. I can feel heat rising to my cheeks. I've never been shy or self-concious before when it comes to sex, but knowing that she knows I was just maturbating in there is a bit embarrassing. I try to cover it up by reverting to my tried and true methods, snark.
"Would have been better if you had joined me." I give her my best lascivious smirk, waggling my eyebrows at her. Now it's her turn to blush and she looks away quickly. "Seriously though, what's got your attention there?"
"I was just looking at the time tables for the trains to DC. It's 11 now, but if we hurry we can probably catch the Acela express at 12:30. Are you about ready to go?" She hands me the phone to show me our options. I nod in answer to her question, pointing to my bag. "Great, let me grab my toothbrush and we can head out. It's a bit far for a walk so we'll need to take a cab."
"Okay. Are you going to let Mike know when to expect us?"
"I was actually thinking it would be better if he didn't know and we just met him at the DC house." She says as she walks towards the bathroom.
"Any particular reason?" She had said the phones were safe. A shiver of fear runs up my spine.
"No, I just want to be extra cautious. We don't know what they know about you, me or Mike. If they know about Mike then it's possible he's being watched. This way we can see slip in and scope things out before anyone knows where we are. If need be, we'll change our plans if he is being watched." I make note of her use of the word they.
"So you think Mercer has an accomplice then?" She didn't seem like she was fully bought into that theory when we last spoke about it. Not dismissive, just not willing to lock in anything without more information.
"It makes sense doesn't it? There's no other way that he would know so much about us back then or even now. I'm fairly certain that my dad didn't book your hotel in your name even if the concierge did know it." From what I remember of her lectures on staying under the radar back in college this definitely tracks. "Besides it doesn't hurt for us to operate with an overabundance of caution. We both know that Mercer is out for blood or worse. I'd like to keep us both safe so we can figure a few things out."
My mouth drops open in shock. Did Veronica Mars just allude to figuring things out with me? I shut my mouth with a snap, breathing in through my nose to calm my wildly beating heart. She could just mean being friends. I shouldn't read too much into it.
Oh dammit, I want to read into it. I want to know if I have a chance with her. I'm tired of tiptoeing around the topic. But now is probably not the best time. We have a train to catch. Once we're safely on the train, then I can bring it up. Just a little longer. And maybe my patience will pay off with my greatest dream coming true. Just a little longer.
I just need to keep her safe so I can make her mine again.