Veronica

Somehow in the night, Logan and I have become tangled together, and it feels so good, I don't want to untangle from his limbs. So now I'm just lying here, watching his chest rise and fall as he sleeps on his back, his head slightly to the side. He's looking wonderfully dishevelled with his dark hair spiked up from sweat and rolling around on the pillow all night, and I really want to run my fingers through it. I woke up with my head in the crook of his shoulder, my leg slung over his and my hand up on his chest, under his shirt. I'm plastered against his side, and he's holding me here with one arm wrapped tightly under my body and around my waist, his hand securely on my hip, his other hand resting over mine on his chest, on top of his shirt.

I wish we were naked. Right now, I completely regret that I didn't have the guts to suggest it when I came out of the bathroom for bed last night. As it was, it took every ounce of restraint I could muster to keep myself from walking back into the room, proclaiming my undying love for him, and begging him to have sex with me in any way he wished for the rest of the night.

Love.

See..there was the problem. I almost said it last night, after the cataclysmic, mind-blowing, could-feel-it-in-my-teeth orgasm Logan gave me. I love you—I, love, you, Logan Echolls.

But what would he think of me? I've kept him at bay for over a month, figuring things out, and then the moment I have an orgasm, I'm proclaiming my love? No. It wasn't the right time or place. And what if it wasn't true? What if I wasn't actually in love with him, and it was just a psychological byproduct of being intimate with him?

The other thing that bothered me, deep in the back of my mind, was the thought that maybe, on some level, Duncan was right. The idea that I had fallen under some sort of sexual spell sounded ludicrous when Duncan had mentioned it. But then it happened, and every flimsy wall I had put around my heart just dropped. And it was overwhelming. It all seems too fast to be in love with someone.

In the end, by the time I regained my composure and came out of the bathroom, he was sitting up in bed again, reading his book. So I just crawled in next to him and did the same. Every time I looked at him, it made me blush, thinking about how far we went, so I just avoided his eyes for a time until we got ready for bed. That's when I almost told him again, in the still and darkness, as I rolled into his arms, and he curled around me, kissing my shoulder, then my head, while murmuring 'good night.' I managed to wiggle myself to face him and gave him a soft, lingering kiss as he held me close, but no words were exchanged. Snuggled into his arms, I fell asleep quickly to the sound of his heartbeat near me.

But now, this morning, I feel different. Like there's a crack in my chest, and the pressure on the other side is building, threatening to explode my heart. Is this what love is? Is this what my parents once felt for each other? Is this why Lilly would go to any and all lengths for Sabrina?

He shifts and yawns, and I stiffen against him, watching as he recognizes me wrapped around him as he opens his eyes a crack, a sleepy smile crossing his lips.

"G' morning."

"Good morning. How'd you sleep?"

Tightening his grasp on me, he closes his eyes again. "Best sleep of my life. We should stay like this all day."

"I didn't hear you talk in your sleep last night, so that's good."

"Hmmm…" he groans, lowering his lips to kiss my forehead and then retreating back to his position on the pillow. "Orgasms before bed can have that effect."

I can't help the giggle that rises, high and anxious in my throat. "Are you suggesting that we should do what we did last night before bed every night?"

"Only if you want to. If you're okay with it." Logan shrugs, and my head bounces a bit as he moves. "When you disappeared afterwards, I wasn't too sure you were completely comfortable with what happened last night."

My laughter stops along with my heart. Gutted. Is he going to spend the rest of our lives calling me out? Because this is brutal.

"Logan, I…." My voice fails me this early in the morning, and I struggle to find the words I need. "I don't...I don't regret it at all. And I'm so sorry if I made you feel that way."

Pressing on his chest, I rise slightly on my side so I can look him in the eye as I speak. He opens his eyes to me, his deep brown eyes gazing back at me with sadness. I hurt him. Wounded him. After feeling so great last night, now I feel terrible.

Fix it. Lilly's voice in my head pushes me on.

"What happened between us last night was amazing. So very amazing that I was overwhelmed by it, mainly because I never thought of myself as a passionate person." I take a breath and refocus, trying to push past my fear of saying too much, but not giving in to any proclamations of love. "But this past month with you has brought something out in me that I didn't expect, and it's terrifying and exhilarating."

"I always knew you were passionate, Veronica. Remember? I used to be on the opposition side of our debates in high school. I know how smart and passionate and witty and sarcastic you can be." He sweeps a piece of hair from my face, and I melt when his fingers graze my cheek. "But if you didn't see yourself as such, then I'm glad I can bring that side of you out even more."

Logan cups my cheek, and I close my eyes, sinking into his touch. Everything he does now feels intimate, and it makes me lose control of my senses and thoughts. Focus, Veronica.

"I don't question why Orwell put us together anymore," I admit softly, opening my eyes to connect with him, fully and completely. "You're my balance in life, Logan. And I think that I'm yours."

His lip twitches at the corner before breaking into a sincere grin, pushing lines through his stubbled cheeks. "Yin and yang as it were. Two parts of the same whole."

"Yes. Exactly like that. But when I thought about who I would get partnered with in life, I never imagined it would be like that; I thought we would be so similar that it would be like two parallel lines going towards the same place, not two lines connecting and forming that circle. And it scares me because…" I take a sharp breath, trying to finish my thought. "Everything feels so much more intense this way."

He frowns in concentration, his smile almost completely disappearing as he listens and processes my words.

"Then we'll slow back down, Veronica. I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you. If it's too intense and too much for you right now, with school and still getting used to all of the changes in our lives, then we'll slow back down." Logan drops a comforting kiss on my lips. "I just want to make you happy, that's all."

"You do! I mean, except when I'm cursing your name over toast crumbs and toilet seats, but for the most part, you do make me happy, Logan, in ways I never thought possible."

"Good," he chuckles. "I'm glad. And I'm still working on the toast crumb situation."

I lean over and reciprocate his kiss, keeping my lips closed tightly as I am suddenly very aware of my own morning breath being this close to him. When I retreat, he grins up at me, his hand shifting to pat my butt cheek.

"And yes, maybe it's a good thing to slow down on things again," he adds. "Because if not, I could easily imagine doing all of those wonderful things with you that we did last night, all weekend, but that would mean we would both fail our classes."

Heat pools between my thighs as all the delicious ways we could spend 24 hours in bed together and I remove my leg from across his, in case he can feel the warmth I'm feeling radiating against him.

"Well..." I lick my lips and grin. "There's that problem too."

Logan

I was hoping she would take me up on it. I was so hoping she would say yes to the idea of fooling around all day. Now, sitting in the campus pub, waiting for Duncan and Wallace to arrive, I'm glad she didn't, mainly because the sexual tension between us all day was so hot it made me almost burst into flames.

After I had an icy shower, we decided to grab breakfast and then head to the library together to work on some projects. Whenever she looked at me, she would blush, and it was so fucking cute. I had to resist the urge to kiss her every time. At one point, her hand came down onto my knee under the table at the library while she was reading, and I wanted to suggest that we go behind the shelves and make out, imagining her legs twisted around my waist while I pressed her up against the books. Then when we got back to the room after lunch, the way she attacked me—straddling my lap when I sat at the table untying one shoe—it was a good thing Duncan called and interrupted so we could get more work done after.

When I called to ask Wallace to come to the Pub with me, for moral support, Jackie proposed having a "girls night" with Veronica, Parker, and Mac. Veronica eagerly accepted and we found ourselves trying to get as much work done as possible in the short amount of time we now had. Even when Lilly returned her call about research, their conversation was quick and to the point, as we both tried to focus more on what we needed to do, and less on the desire to return to making out in the chair.

After dinner in the cafeteria, she walked to Jackie's while I walked to the Pub on the other side of campus. The Tipsy Professor was a hold-over from the old university structure, located in a red brick building that used to house one of the massive boilers. Now, with the conversion to purely solar energy, it was a big concrete room filled with wooden booths and a long bar that stretched the length of one wall. At the back was a small dance floor and a stage, where Piz was already set up, stacks of old-school CDs and equipment spread across a wooden table. When I walked in, I didn't notice Duncan or Wallace, so I chose a booth near the front door, so I could drink and watch for them to arrive. It also had the added advantage of being as far away from Piz and his pre-war Electronic Dance Music as possible.

The bar was already fairly busy with a predominantly male clientele, except for a few small clusters of women in the booths closer to the dance floor. We learned in Cultural Studies in high school that bars like this were one of the ways people would hook up and find each other. They were also places where predators went hunting for women to abuse. For better or worse, Orwell eliminated all of the show of toxic masculinity and overstated femininity. We lost choice, but we gained safety. They saved lives. Looking at it now—with the stench of stale beer and sweat lingering in the air—it's hard to imagine that this would be a place to find love.

A hand comes down on my shoulder, and I jump from my thoughts. Duncan is just behind the high back of the booth, and he laughs at my fright.

"Hah! Got you!" He laughs and comes around to the other side of the table, sliding in.

"Fuck. What are you….12 still?" I rise slightly and punch him in the shoulder with just enough force that it knocks him back slightly, and he laughs again.

"That the best you got? I thought one of your extra-curriculars was weight lifting?"

"It is. But I'm going to put boxing down next so I can kick your ass."

"Sure, you will." Duncan sheds his thick jacket and tosses it to the other end of the booth. "What's the beer selection like here?"

I look at my half-empty pint glass and shrug. "This is supposed to be the Tipsy IPA—house special—but it tastes like piss-water. I think they water things down so we won't get drunk and start a fight."

"Piz and I went into the city to check out a band about two weeks ago, and the beer at the bar was amazing. Reminded me of the stuff we stole from my dads' stash at their barbeque last year."

"Yes, well, that bar probably doesn't have to worry about just-legal students going crazy when they've had their first taste of the good stuff. We know this is shit because we've already had the good stuff. Most of these guys have probably never had a drink or a joint in their lives."

"Don't tell me this party started without me?" Wallace appears from behind me and points to my beer glass. "Is it any good?"

"Terrible. We should have convinced the ladies to come here instead, and we could have had real beer and tequila at your place." I grimace as soon as the words leave my mouth, remembering how my drunken antics set off a week of hell for Veronica and me. Maybe it was best to be drinking the watered-down stuff tonight. Turning my attention back to the boys, I jerk my thumb at Duncan. "Wallace, this is my best friend, Duncan Kane. Duncan, this is Wallace Fennel, my soon to be second-best friend."

The men shake hands, but Wallace keeps his attention on me. "Soon to be second? Damn. That's harsh. I'm taking back the friendship bracelet I bought you at the commissary."

"I bought him one once. He just lost it. I wouldn't spend the money." Duncan chuckles, shaking Wallace's hand briefly before rising from the booth. "Want me to grab the first round?"

I lift the glass to my lips and toss back the remaining beer-water in one long chug, handing my empty glass to Duncan as he shakes his head at me.

"Sure." I gulp. "Thanks, buddy."

"No problem," he mutters and continues on towards the bar, empty glass in hand.

I stand, and Wallace pulls off his jacket and hangs it on a hook at the end of the seat before sliding into the booth as I follow.

"So, why am I here again?"

I glance up to make sure Duncan is at the bar still before I speak. "To make sure I don't punch my best friend in the head. His roommate is putting all sorts of propaganda in his head and I need to talk him out of it."

"Propaganda? What kind of propaganda?"

I catch a glimpse of Duncan coming back from the bar out of the corner of my eye. "You'll see."

"They'll be over in a minute with our beers," Duncan says as he slides into the seat across from me.

"So, how are classes going?" I ask. "Veronica talked to Lilly briefly today about your project. Sounds intense."

"Yeah. There's a lot to cover. And Professor Dent is a pretty tough marker, so we need to impress her."

"Good to know. I think we have her next semester," Wallace states.

A burly looking guy in a plaid shirt steps to the end of our table, carrying four beers on a tray and starts setting them down. We each grab one, and I frown at the last one left standing as I thank the server. His only reply is a grunt as he walks away.

"Who's the fourth for?"

"Piz. He should be finishing this set soon."

"Great." I manage to get the words out without sounding sarcastic.

We pause to all take a sip of our beers, and I watch Duncan eyeing Wallace.

"So you're partnered too, Wallace?" Duncan points to Wallace's ring and smiles. "Congrats."

"Thanks, man. Baby on the way too, so I won't get many nights out in a few months." Wallace laughs.

"It's going well then." Duncan nods. "That's good."

Wallace shrugs and tosses me a little frown then turns to Duncan again. "Sure is. But why wouldn't it?"

"No reason. I just overheard the guys in front of me at the bar complaining about their partners, so it's good you guys are making it work.

Once again, Wallace frowns at me, and I can read the look: what is with this guy?

"Maybe they're just letting off steam, Duncan." I jump in before he says something that makes Wallace want to punch him too. "It's hard to balance figuring out how to live with someone and school, while confined in tight spaces. They're probably just commiserating on the challenges."

"Both Logan and I are pretty lucky dudes, though," Wallace adds with a chuckle. "We were paired with two smart ladies who know how to put up with our human failings—by pestering us until we stop doing it."

"Yeah. Really lucky." Duncan brings the beer up to his lips and takes a long drink.

"Complaining about each other, I think, is part of being in a relationship," I add. "Just as long as it's not hateful or mean spirited."

The memory of Veronica kissing me gently, in penance for stealing and chewing on one of my pens this afternoon, distracts me from Duncan.

At that precise moment, Piz decides to show up and I don't know if I'm more irritated by his interruption of my thoughts or just his general presence.

"Hey, good set," Duncan states as he moves over for Piz in the booth. He jerks his chin towards us. "This is Wallace, Logan's buddy."

"Cool. Nice to meet you." Instead of extending his hand in greeting, Piz grabs his beer and takes a long swig. "Man, it's hot up there under the lights."

"Nice to meet you too." Wallace shakes his head and takes a long sip of his beer, keeping his eyes on me.

I down the rest of my beer and reach out as the bartender walks past. He stops, and I pull my stipend card from my wallet and hand it to him. "Another round for my friends and me, please."

Another grunt and he walks off, and I wonder if he's going to charge me extra because I jumped the bar queue or just toss my stipend card in the garbage disposal.

"Well, for what it's worth, I'm happy that things are working out for you and Veronica. She seems pretty happy."

I'm taken aback by Duncan's words. He doesn't look me in the eye as he says them though, which makes me think that he may not actually believe what he's saying.

"I appreciate it, Duncan. Really."

"You're both unmatched?" Wallace asks, glancing between Piz and Duncan.

"Yes. For now." A wry smile crosses Piz's face. "But unlike some, we're taking our fate into our own hands."

"Oh? Really." I lean towards Piz across from me and put my elbows on the table. "How are you going to do that?"

Piz exchanges glances with Duncan and Duncan nods his approval, leaning in towards Logan.

"Piz introduced me to a group of like-minded people—C.H.A.D.—where people who haven't been partnered yet can meet and discuss politics and music and art and exchange ideas."

"Pardon me," Wallace stifles a chuckle behind his fist. "What exactly does C.H.A.D. stand for?"

"Choices for Humans Against Databases," Duncan replies, devoid of any humour. "We believe that a database filled with our human profiles should not be making life decisions for us—that our personal freedom to choose a life partner or partners supersedes any excuses the government makes to create the illusion that Orwell is correct."

Wallace looks at me and presses his lips together, obviously trying to suppress a laugh or a grin. Instead, he takes a sip of his beer.

The bartender returns and tosses my stipend card in front of me before placing down the beers and turning to leave.

"Thanks, man!" I call out after him in the hopes he doesn't spit in our next round.

"So, you guys are out to find partners yourselves," I state. "And then what? Force the government to change its policy and let you participate in unions?"

"No! We live outside the government policy and reject any further matches." Piz explains. "We cohabitate until that time that the government recognizes our ability to make choices for our matches."

"And there are...how do I put this...willing women participating in this?" I ask, a little shocked by the knowledge that there is a hook-up party masquerading as a political discussion group operating on campus.

"There are!" Duncan states emphatically. "Well, two women anyway."

"And how many men?" Wallace asks.

Duncan shrugs. "Dunno. Probably about thirty."

I rub my eyes with my palms and cringe. There is so much that is problematic about this entire scenario that my brain can't land on something to say right away.

"Have either of these women gone on a date with either of you?" Wallace questions, not even trying to hide his incredulous tone.

"No. But the girls said they had some friends they want to bring along. The guy who runs the group...Gory Sorokin...is dating one of the women," Duncan answers.

I down the rest of my beer as quickly as I can. I can't take this anymore. We haven't been here that long, but I can't deal with the sheer stupidity of my friend.

Piz drinks the rest of his beer and stands, patting me on the shoulder and smiling. "Thanks for the beer. Gotta start my next setlist. Hope you like it."

I want to punch him for touching me, but I choose to force a tight smile across my face. "Yeah. Take it easy, Piz."

As soon as he's across the Pub, I turn back to Duncan and scowl. "Dude. You can't be serious about this C.H.A.D. thing."

"Why not? Why should I wait until some computer matches me with my perfect mate when I can go and find her myself?"

"Because while you're pining for one of two available women, Orwell could match you, and you could blow it by rejecting her for some stupid dream of finding someone this way."

Duncan tosses back a long sip of his beer and wipes the residue from his lips from the back of his hand. "Maybe because I want to actually be in love with the person I spend the rest of my life with, that's why."

"What the hell are you implying?" I hiss through clenched teeth.

"Veronica may put up with you and put on a happy facade, but there's no way you're in love."

I grip my pint glass so hard I think it might break so I try to relax my hand slightly, although I'm worried that if I unclench too much, I'll give in to the temptation to make a fist and knock Duncan's teeth out.

"Well, here's a newsflash for you, Duncan, but I do love Veronica. And not because I have to because she's my partner, but because I want to. I am madly, deeply, and very passionately in love with Veronica Mars. And I know you think you were in love with her in high school but that was all in your head and all one-sided. She doesn't love you. She cares about you as a friend, just like I do, and she's as worried about these crazy things you're saying as much as I am." I take a breath to even my rising voice back to a normal volume. "But I'm telling you right now, I love Veronica and if you ever disrespect her or our partnership by talking out of turn about us, I will punch you so hard it will knock the memory of our friendship right out of your brain."

For a second, Duncan holds my gaze, and I wonder if he has the balls to strike me first. Instead, he lifts the pint glass to his lips and downs the rest of his beer, slamming the glass on the tabletop.

"Fine." Duncan sneers as he grabs his jacket and slides across the bench and stands at the end of the table.

"Don't be like this, Duncan…." I jump up and grab him by the arm. "This is ridiculous. Just please, think about what you're doing. Think about how many years we've been friends. Think about who your true friends are. Please. Don't let this come between our friendship."

He wrenches his arm from my grasp, tossing me a look that wavers between disdain and wounded. Dropping my arms to my side, I brace myself for a punch, but he just turns and skulks off towards the other side of the room. I watch as he takes a table near the stage, positioning himself to face Piz, his back to me.

A dull ache of regret settles into my belly. How the hell am I supposed to be a politician? I can't even be diplomatic with my best friend. Scratch that...my former best friend.

With a deep sigh, I slide onto the side of the booth that Duncan vacated and face Wallace.

"That was intense."

I roll my eyes. "To put it mildly. Do you still have that friendship bracelet? I seem to have an opening."

Wallace just laughs and slides out of the booth. "I'm going to get us another couple of beers. You sit here and start working on my bracelet while I'm gone."

I shake my head and chuckle as Wallace walks away. Leaning back against the back of the booth, I exhale slowly, gaining control of my nerves and my thoughts.

And that's when it hits me. Fuck. I just proclaimed my love for Veronica to everyone except her.

"Maybe it's time to let her know too," I state to no one else but me.

Veronica

Girls night. It was the perfect distraction. When Jackie asked me over tonight to hang out with her, Parker, and Mac, I jumped at the chance. Logan and Wallace were going to be meeting Duncan at the same time at the campus pub, and I didn't want to be home alone with my thoughts. My deep, longing thoughts of Logan and what happened between us last night were consuming me today. So much so that it was hard to be in the same room with him without wanting to drag him into bed.

When Logan kissed me goodbye tonight, my knees buckled as he lingered, and I had to grab his shoulders for support. He must have noticed because he gripped me harder, holding me flush against his body. And as he pulled away and told me he would meet me back here, later, I wanted to ask him to stay with me now, but instead, I just nodded in silent agreement. He had made plans with his friends, and I had with mine. There were expectations to be met that superseded any other desires.

Now I'm nursing my second glass of wine in Jackie's living room, hoping the night goes quickly, so I can hurry home to see him.

God, I'm pathetic.

Mac, Parker, and Jackie return down the stairs from the house tour I took last month, and I straighten on the couch and smile at the group, tucking my thoughts of Logan into the back of my brain.

"Isn't that baby room beautiful?"

Parker presses her hand to her flat belly as she sits back down in the folding chair across from me. "Ugh. My uterus hurts, it's so cute!"

"I'll do one for you and Logan when you join us in family housing next year," Jackie teases.

In only a month, her belly seems to have grown exponentially, and she lowers herself carefully on the other side of the couch, placing her ice water on the coffee table as she moves.

"Pft. That's not happening. Not for a long time." I roll my eyes at the thought of us having a baby now. "I can barely keep myself together some days, never mind a kid. You're a lot braver than me, Jackie.

"Brave is definitely the right word for Jackie," Mac states, taking the other folding chair by Parker.

Jackie just shrugs, calmly surveying us all. "I don't know if it's really all that brave. I mean, it's not like I'm fighting in a war or anything. But when it feels right, you just know it's right. You know?"

"Yes. And when it's not right, you know too," interjects Parker. "As in my case. I still feel like I dodged a bullet with Mercier."

I take another sip of my wine. "Yes, but what if you're not sure?"

Mac frowns at me across the coffee table. "You mean, not sure about the person you're partnered with?"

"No. Yes." All eyes are now on me as I sigh. "I don't know. I mean, Jackie, when you first met Wallace, did you feel like you were in love with him from the start?"

Jackie giggles, shaking her head. "Oh, God, no! I mean, he was cute and funny and there was that little spark of attraction when we first met as partners, but I didn't fall in love with him. Not right away, anyway."

"But you are in love with him now?"

"Yes. I am. It took some time for us, but yeah, I can honestly say that I love him."

"Veronica...are you saying you're not in love with Logan?" Parker asks quietly.

"I...I don't know." The confession comes from nowhere, brought on by my confusion and some wine. "I guess it seems so unbelievable to me that I could be in love with this guy I've known for years that I don't trust my feelings right now."

"I felt the same way with Wallace. I mean, we weren't really friends, but I knew of him and saw him play basketball a few times, so I just thought he was this jock who cared more about scoring points than academic life," Jackie says, reaching out to place her hand gently on my arm. "It sounds so strange that we would choose to have a child together, without being in love first, but there was this part of me that always believed that eventually, we would be in love."

"But that's it...how did you know? Was it instinct? Was it a premonition? Or was it just blind faith that Orwell knows what the hell it's doing? Because when Logan was partnered with me, I was sure the computer had lost its mind, but now I'm not too sure."

"It was a feeling. A deep, deep feeling that when we met that everything would work out, in the end," Jackie replies, soft and wistful. "You know, when we got together to discuss our partnership, he made me laugh three times in our short visit. And I have to tell you, before him, I was much more serious, more focused on my studies. But he made me laugh, and I thought that I would be happy laughing with him for the rest of my life."

The room goes quiet, and I feel all eyes on me again, as if waiting for some magical words of wisdom to fly from my mouth as well.

"Veronica? How did you feel when you met Logan?" Parker leans forward, her hand stretching across the table to rest on my knee. "It's okay. You can share it with us."

I blink, and the feeling of Logan kissing my head so tenderly at our union ceremony appears for a moment and then disappears.

"We actually met when we were twelve and were good friends for years before we were chosen. I think that's part of my problem….I'm still not over the shock that my friend has become my partner."

"But Veronica, that's great!" Jackie says. "Wallace and I had to learn to be friends, but you were already there."

"I know...I just…." The words are on the tip of my tongue, and I force myself to say them out loud. "I never thought I would fall in love with Logan Echolls."

"Veronica, if you're in love with Logan, then you're definitely one of the lucky ones who can say that about your partnership." Parker adds. "My parents were part of the first wave of partnerships, and I don't think they ever learned to be friends. They just exist together, you know? Like, they get along, but I don't think they have ever been friends or really were ever in love. I mean, they love me, they love my sister, but there's kind of nothing there between them. That's part of the reason why I rejected Mercer—I just felt that he was never going to be someone I could be a friend and a lover to or with."

Taking a large sip of my wine, I point at Parker. "See, now that's another thing...Logan and I are friends, it's the lover part that we need to get to."

"What?!"

A collective gasp rises from everyone, and I blush. Once again, I've said too much. Damn.

"Wait. Are you saying you haven't had sex with Logan?" Mac waves her hands in the air at me like she's trying to conjure up something.

"Technically, no. We've been fooling around, but we haven't gone all the way." I shrug, slightly ashamed to be admitting this to everyone.

"Is it because you don't feel that way about him?" Mac leans into the conversation, her elbows on her knees.

"Oh, gosh, no. I mean, don't get me wrong. I want to have sex with him. We just wanted to wait until...until we were in love...before we did anything about it."

"Awwww…." Parker clutches her chest, her pink lips pursing. "That's so romantic. Like, old novel romantic."

Romantic. I guess in the end, I didn't lose all my romantic notions about what this partnership could be. They just shifted slightly to fit the situation.

"Yeah. I guess it is kind of romantic." The heat rises in my cheeks, and I take another sip of wine.

"So, you've told us you love him, you obviously want to have sex with him, what's stopping you?" Jackie asks.

"Me. It's me. He's waiting for me to tell him we can take it further, and so far, I haven't even admitted my true feelings for him." I put my glass down and cover my face with my palms. "Fuck. I mean, what if he doesn't say it back?"

"Veronica. I hate to tell you this, but it sounds to me like you're making this much more complicated than it needs to be. You're overthinking it, big time." Mac laughs, taking another sip of her wine. "You're partners already, and every time I've had lunch with you guys, Logan keeps looking at you like you have a damn rainbow halo over your head. I'm no expert, but I'd say your fear that he won't say it back is slim to none."

"She's right, Veronica. I mean, I would kill to have a partner that looks at me like Logan looks at you, and Wallace looks at Jackie," Parker concurs, glancing between us.

"Wait? How does Wallace look at me?" Jackie chuckles.

"Like you're carried around by a small cloud from heaven." Mac grasps her breast, dramatically lifting her hand in the air and gazing off into the room.

We all erupt in a fit of laughter, which comes to an immediate halt as the sound of the lock turning breaks through our noise. All eyes turn to the front door as Wallace enters the room, followed by Logan.

"Sounds like we're interrupting quite the party in here," Wallace chuckles.

Logan catches my eye, his smile downright bashful before he shifts and looks down at his shoes, and my stomach does a little flip in response to his presence.

"You guys are home early. I figured a bunch of guys at a bar meant you'd be out all night," Jackie states.

Wallace pulls off his shoes and drops them by the front door, but Logan makes no move to stay, instead choosing to lean back against the front door and shove his hands in his jacket pocket.

"Well, for one thing, there is definitely a plot to keep us from spending all our stipend money on beer —they water it down so much it's like drinking glorified iced tea," Logan says. "I had four, and it feels like I had one lite beer.

Coming around behind the girls, Wallace makes his way to Jackie and leans down, giving her a quick peck on the lips in greeting before sitting on the flat arm of the couch.

"And second, the DJ stunk," he laughs, pointing at Logan.

I look from Wallace to Logan. "Oh, no. What happened with Piz?"

"Piz?! I know that guy!" Parker cries out, punctuating her remark with a sharp laugh. "We have Professional Communications together. Do you remember last week, Jackie? That guy who usually sits in the back and sulks. He's the one who hit on me after class by saying Orwell didn't partner us for a reason, so we could find each other 'the old fashioned way.'"

"Ugh. Yes! Him!" Jackie points across to Parker. "He's also the one who wanted to feel my belly on the first day of classes, and I had to smack his hand away."

Logan scratches the stubble on his cheek and shakes his head. "Let's just put it this way...Piz is not the charmer he thinks he is."

I let out a deep sigh and stand, wandering towards Logan. When he sees me approach, he stands straighter and opens his arms, allowing me to walk right in. He kisses my forehead and wraps his puffy jacket arms around me, and I mentally melt into his being so near.

"It was a little intense at the Pub, so Wallace and I figured we would come here, and you and I could walk home together. Get some crisp night air and talk."

Oblivious to everyone else, I rise on my toes and give him a soft peck on the lips, causing the room to hoot and holler at us.

"Get a room!" Wallace shouts with a laugh.

"We have one! It's tiny! We like yours better!" Logan tosses back, squeezing me closer to him.

"You're welcome anytime," Jackie adds. "Now get out!"

I can't hold back my laughter, and when I turn in Logan's arms, I catch Jackie's wink at me, jerking her chin up towards Logan. As everyone continues to laugh, she mouths the words…

Tell him.

My response is a small nod before I extract myself from Logan's embrace, taking a step towards the closet to retrieve my jacket.

I will tell him how I feel. Tonight. Just as soon as I figure out how.