Chapter 32

October 29th, 2022

Few things had gone according to plan that evening.

Even despite Em's nap the girl had still fallen asleep during the limo ride back. First the dinner at an Italian place, Logan had vouched for being a great place years ago, had taken much longer than anticipated to get them their meals, and secondly a traffic accident on the corner of 9th and W57th Street had transformed their 10 minute ride back to a 40 minute one.

The bubble show had been fun for anyone under the age of 10, the adults noticing the less-than-impressing settings a lot better than they had. It had been loud, and kind of messy for those in the first rows, which had included the three of them.

Rory had made the mistake of wearing a brand new pair studded Louboutin ankle boots, in part certainly to dress up a little sexy for the night for the sake of being out and about in NYC with Logan, but the fact that the bubble show had involved quite a bit of moving around and the walk to the restaurant from there had been longer than she'd hoped, Logan having told the driver they didn't need him until later already before the show, the whole thing had taken quite a toll on her feet. So bad, in fact, that it had now left her limping a little. It was just a blister, but the negative side of it was that it was distracting, having drawn her mind away from trying to impress Logan and put her remaining energy into caring for her daughter.

And on top of that Rory's burgundy wrap also had a rather large bubble soap stain on her hip, which she could only hope she would get out once she got back home to wash it. Either way, it was safe to say her idea of making an impression had turned out a little underwhelming. But that was life with a 5-year-old, without embelishments.

Rory opened the hotel suite door quietly, letting Logan, with Em in his arms - an adorable site she truly felt she could get used to - inside ahead of her. She closed the door behind them quietly and switched on the table and floor lamps, not wanting to risk waking Em with the full ceiling lighting.

Logan headed for Rory's and Em's bedroom, struggling a little at throwing the blanket off the perfectly made bed aside to place Em on the bed. Rory, having by not removed her own shoes, hurried to help him, and fixed the pillows so they'd be positioned just the way Em liked them. The entire interaction - him placing her down carefully, and her taking over, comforting her so she wouldn't wake - came with a certain intimacy as such close proximity, Rory inhaling a deep whiff of his scent. That was almost distracting.

Logan stood back and watched as Rory removed the girl's shoes and jacket, loosening the buttons of Em's cardigan.

Rory had pictured the evening ending a certain way - to indulge in some of that tension she'd felt that morning, possibly a glass of scotch in her hand, and at the very least feeling that temptation to take this to some other level, even if she wasn't quite sure if she should and would actually succumb to it just yet. But right now, it just felt different. Nervous. Confusing even.

She sensed Logan being tired, the last part of the evening having been a lot to all three of them, and her own feet and brain were fried too. Maybe they'd just go their separate ways - even if the 'ways' were just two separate bedrooms that night?

Logan didn't really say much, and swiftly made an exit from the bedroom, and headed into his own - further down the hall, leaving Rory a little clueless on what to do. Sure, she wanted a minute or two to herself - change out of her pantyhose and that stained dress into something comfortable, clean the blister on her foot, remove her makeup and so on. But she didn't want him getting the idea that she was getting ready for bed.

She did the best she knew - left the bedroom door ajar as a sign of wanting to continue to interact. But honestly, she wasn't sure if he was thinking the same, not quite seeing what he was up to from where she was.

Rory changed out of her clothes and wiped the makeup off her face, and applied some revitalizing booster emulsion. She washed her feet, wanting to just let the blister get some air and heal, not bothering to seal it up with a band-aid.

It was perhaps ten minutes later that she slipped out of the bedroom, dressed in her leggings and a tank top, closing the door behind her quietly. She almost wished she could make a louder bang, indicating that she was there in the living room.

In the distance she could hear the shower in Logan's bedroom on, and in a very spy-movie-like manner she peeked down the hall, wondering if his door was closed - was it his way of telling her he was going to bed?

Rory walked back and forth around the living room, not really knowing what to do. Theoretically she could just go to sleep, but she really didn't want to. She had her phone to keep her company, but right now that just didn't attract her. She glanced out the windows, seeing the dark Central Park, and considered putting on the TV… after some hesitation, not wanting to wake Em, she decided to go for it, hoping it'd make some noise so Logan would get a clear signal that she was still up. Em generally slept through sounds of the tv pretty well.

Thankfully she quickly found a movie on Netflix she'd been meaning to watch - 'Mr. Harrigan's Phone'. It wasn't just some average horror movie or a thriller, nothing too cheesy either. It was Stephen King - even if slightly more serious it definitely had a literary theme going on, which always intrigued her in whatever she watched. She settled onto the couch and made herself comfortable by pulling her feet up onto the couch.

She put the movie on, but paused it soon enough, not wanting to start watching in case Logan wanted to join her.

The shower was off, and she jumped up from the couch and headed for the bar cabinet. This bar cabinet, that also held the minibar, was stocked way better than one would find at some average hotel - it actually had normal sized bottles for one, and the choice of scotch was not the usual Johnnie Walker but a very decent looking bottle of Bowmore. Rory recalled it not quite being Logan's first choice, but she believed he would appreciate it. She peeked again along the hallway, noting that at least Logan's light was still on, the light showing from under his door.

Rory poured herself a small scotch, and returned to the couch, deciding to at least try to relax. She went back to the main menu on Netflix, deciding to just leave the trailer playing at half volume, hoping it'd get Logan's attention. He could hear it, couldn't he?

She couldn't directly see Logan's door from the couch, so maybe about 2 minutes after scrolling through some ridiculous Facebook reels she already felt anxious to do something. So, unable to sit still, Rory got up again, and walked around the fancy living room once more. She'd just stepped into the hallway to peek again whether Logan's light was still on, when suddenly the door opened, and Rory made some pretty quick, almost comical, moves to regain her position on the couch as if nothing was amiss.

Logan stepped into the living room in his sweatpants and a T-shirt, catching Rory in a rather awkward position, looking for the remote, the movie still playing the trailer over and over again, her hand reaching down to the underside of her buttocks in search for it.

But it was rather the urgency in her moves that caused Logan to chuckle internally though. She looked like a ball of nerves.

"I thought I heard you were still up," Logan pointed out, and walked closer, Rory now up close seeing how his hair was still a little damn from the shower. It was definitely not a bad look, Rory getting automatic flashes of how his skin felt after showers - soft like velvet that radiated heath.

"Um, yeah," Rory replied, awkwardly, finally finding the remote. "They had Bowmore's," Rory said, picking up her glass and gesturing towards the bar cabinet.

Logan nodded and headed for the bar cabinet, aiming to pour himself a drink. It certainly couldn't hurt at this point, and other than a couple of small glasses of wine they'd had with dinner they were almost completely sober. It was still odd - going out to eat with a kid - one being not entirely off-duty every to let loose to really enjoy what one drank.

"I was thinking about watching this Stephen King adaptation…," Rory suggested, half heartedly, her hesitation showing in her tone.

"Oh yeah?" Logan replied, kind of enjoying seeing her squirm a little. He could tell she was nervous, and he was also pretty sure she wasn't really out there just for tv-watching.

With a drink in hand, he joined Rory on the couch, that sat diagonally from the television, that had previously been hidden away in an antique-looking wall cabinet. He chose his seat intentionally so he sat perhaps half a seat from her, not intentionally at the far end of the couch nor too close, not quite wanting to invade her space so she'd spook.

"It's supposed to be kind of dark, but a little withheld. Nothing as gross as Midnight Mass," Rory explained, folding her legs under her in another position.

"Well, it wouldn't be Stephen King if it wasn't," Logan noted, taking a small sip of his drink.

"Or we could just watch something else?" Rory hesitated.

"Whatever you want," Logan shrugged, nearly just telling her to not press play at all but just talk.

But Rory already pressed play.

"I don't think I've ever watched a movie with you without a table full of snacks before," Logan commented, settling into the couch himself, adjusting his position a little.

"Well, barley is a cereal," Rory pointed out, referring to her drink.

"We could order something if you want," Logan offered. He wasn't hungry, but he felt like he should offer.

"Nah, I'm not really hungry," Rory replied.

"Yet another thing I'm not used to hearing from your mouth," Logan commented, smilingly.

"Hey, I actually know what's good for me now," Rory said. It wasn't so much that she'd given up on late night snacking, it was just the kind of snacks and the amount of them that her body that was approaching fourty appreciated over what she'd grown up with.

"Um, yeah?" Logan urged her to continue, very much wondering how she'd gotten to such a point. He was pretty sure the absence of Lorelai in her life had something to do with it, but there surely must've been more to it.

"You really want to hear about the development of my eating habits?" Rory asked dubiously, finding it a little puzzling that he was spoiling the tension she'd been hoping for with something as trivial.

Logan smiled smugly, looking her in the eye.

"I just want you to relax..," Logan said, causing her to feel her pulse rate calm down just at those words. He always could see right through her, couldn't he?

"Am I that obvious?" Rory asked, looking down at her lap and then back up at him.

"You're not obvious… I just… I've seen you like this before. It's cute," Logan added, going for a variation of 'I know you'.

Rory blushed, the dimly lit room not quite showing the redness of her cheeks.

"We're getting to know each-other, as we agreed," Logan reflected, having already lost track of the movie that was playing. "And you don't have to be embarrassed of that, I don't think we should feel awkward about wanting to spend time together, doing whatever… I just want you to feel relaxed enough to say what's on your mind. Ask, suggest or on the contrary go to sleep if you want. You don't have to worry about impressing me, I'm beyond impressed. I've always been beyond impressed around you," Logan added, sensing her hesitation.

Rory took a moment to think how to respond.

"It's not the talking I'm worried about," Rory confessed. Mostly what she indeed worried about was there being a moment, or a touch - either that would just take them too far too fast, not quite trusting the two of them with the physical. They'd made the mistake before - rushing into those things without really talking, really communicating. They couldn't afford such mistakes again.

"Right," Logan replied, unable to hold back his somewhat smug laughter.

"Don't laugh," Rory scolded him, playfully hitting his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Logan held up his hands, continuing to laugh and needed to watch his volume.

But that shoulder-punch actually already relaxed Rory a little, getting an innocent touch out of the way. It wasn't that they hadn't hugged until now, it was just that it was the comforting kind of touch that she longed for the most but initiating that felt almost a little too much without the casual setting - it was too close to kissing him. The sex should and could wait - she wanted that to wait, allowing that anticipation to grow.

For about twenty minutes they just watched the movie, soon picking up what was happening in the plot.

"How's your foot?" Logan asked, breaking their silence, having noted her limping earlier.

"Oh, it's fine… just a blister," Rory said, feeling relieved she'd made it back in time before things got bloody.

"Those boots were totally worth it though," Logan replied with an appreciative smirk.

Rory smiled humbly.

"And I mean if you want… I could rub your feet? I bet they're tired," Logan found himself offering, knowing he was pushing it. "Or not…, don't overthink it," he added, wanting it to see like a casual offer.

He didn't have a fetish or anything, it was just something he remembered her enjoying. And even though he knew those massages could easily transform into something more erotic, this wasn't necessarily his goal right now. He just wanted her to relax, and regain some type of intimacy.

"You really don't have to..," Rory said, wavering a little.

"Up to you, just offering… Just thought I could somehow replay you for dressing up for me…," Logan pushed her just a little.

Rory paused, mulling things over for a minute, the action filled scene on the screen providing a momentary distraction.

"Oh, alright…," Rory said, meeting his eyes again, and pulled out her legs from underneath her and stretched them out over his lap like she had a hundred times before, while resting her back against the armrest. They'd been so comfortable with each other, and this was exactly what she'd missed. She hadn't gotten an offer like that in at least six years - having had not much intimacy beyond sex, at max a simple shoulder massage or handholding, during those years. "But just for the record, I didn't dress up just for you, you know," she added, pushing her nose up in the air playfully, already sensing how Logan's warm hands kneaded her soles into another type of ecstasy.