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When Rory stepped off the elevators the next morning, her feet were alternating between having wings and having anchors on them. Willing her legs to stay under her, she walked passed the identical cubicles to her own, where she slipped in, praying she wouldn't meet him coming out of his.
However, she stopped instantly when she saw the round object laying dead center on her desk. With trepidation, she stepped over to her desk, laid her purse on the floor, and sat down before reaching for the object. A Frisbee.
Her breath caught as she lifted the paper off the top and scanned the words.
'We need to talk. L.'
Yes, they did, but she didn't want to. Slowly she sat back and listened over the wall. He was there, she could hear his every movement. Logan. The man she had dreamed about, the man she wanted to be with more than life itself, the man she loved.
Despite every bad thing that had happened over the weekend, she did love him. True, she was still unbelievably angry with him, and more than unbelievably confused, but the one thing she was not confused about at all was that she loved him - all the way to the bottom of her soul.
Now she just had to decide if she could ever take another chance. Could she believe and hope again that someone could love her? And for that question, there was no easy answer.
OoOoO
"Hey," Logan said, swinging into her cubicle five minutes before noon.
Her highlighter streaked across the page as every nerve in her body jumped to attention, but she forced her gaze to say steady as she looked up at him. "Hello, you."
"So, what do you say? You want to go to the park?"
"Oh, okay, sure." Her head spun as she shut down the program on her computer and stood before reaching down to pick up the Frisbee. "Should I bring this?"
"Your choice."
It was a safety precaution. Something to do if talking proved too dangerous. They walked to the elevators with no words, and once on, Rory's gaze could find no safe place to lie. Being with Logan had never been so hard. Even when he was telling her about Mandy, it was only her who had felt the tension.
Now, he too looked like he would rather fly to Alaska than be standing here by her side. The elevator doors slid open, and they walked through the atrium to the parking garage. Without ever touching her, he guided her to his car and opened the door. The silence between them was stifling as he started the car and pulled out into traffic.
In only minutes they were at the park, and Rory knew they had arrived at the point of truth. She had simultaneously dreamed about and run from this conversation for almost five years, and now inexplicably she was here.
"How about over here?" Logan said, pointing to a small spot under a giant shade tree.
Nervously Rory folded herself onto the grass and watched him follow her. From the bag he carried, he handed her a sandwich and then a bottle of water.
"Thanks," she choked out as she tore into the sandwich. She had taken three bites before she realized he hadn't so much as opened his. Self-consciously she took a drink of water and then glanced at him.
"So, do you hate me?" he finally asked softly.
"No," she admitted, wishing that she did. Hate, at the moment, seemed much less frightening than what she was really feeling.
"I wouldn't blame you if you did. I mean I know how much you liked Brian."
"Yeah, well, sometimes that's not enough to build forever on."
Logan nodded slowly. "So what should you build forever on?'"
Her heart took a trip to the hazy blue sky above them even as she fought not to let herself hope. "Well, I think friendship might be a good place to start."
"I'm starting to see that," he said, never looking at her. "So, then I guess the question becomes have I lost my best friend over this?"
"I thought I was just the person who happened to be next door at work."
He smiled sadly. "So did I, but I think we were both wrong."
She took a drink and set the bottle next to her carefully as her gaze traveled caross the park. "So, what happens now?"
"Well, I guess we can play a little Frisbee," he said, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth, "and then we can see what happens next."
A small laugh escaped form the middle of her. "That sounds like fun."
Quickly he stood and reached down for her hand. His hand felt softer than it ever had before. She could feel the safety it provided, the undeniable assurance that as long as she needed it, it would be there.
Once she was on her feet, his hand lingered for one more moment before he bent and retrieved the Frisbee from beside her water. "You go first."
She accepted the toy, still not trusting herself to really look at him, and she took a few steps away from the tree. "Ready?"
He held his hands out in reply. With a flick of her wrist, she sent the saucer across the grass to him. Expertly he caught it and sent it immediately back to her. It took her only two steps to catch it. The warmth of the March air filled her lungs as she flew the Frisbee back to him.
One catch, and it was soaring back to her. However, it sailed just over her head.
"Sorry," he called, and the sound of his voices set rockets of in her heart.
"Sure you are." She bent, retrieved the Frisbee, and sailed it back to him, but her aim wasn't quite as true, and he had to chase it several steps. The sight of him running for a toy dressed like he should be running for a meeting brought a smile of her face.
She liked the way he looked, and it really didn't matter what he was wearing. The Frisbee hit her hands with precision, and in a heartbeat it was soaring back to him. Somehow just standing here in the sunlit park throwing a Frisbee of all things, she felt more alive than she had in awhile. It was amazing.
He sent the Frisbee back to her and then checked his watch. "We really ought to be thinking about getting back."
"Five more minutes," she called, knowing that five more forever's wouldn't be enough.
"Okay, but if Elliot yells at me, I'm sending him over to talk to you."
"Send him over," she said flinging the toy back to him with an abandon she had never felt in her life.
"So which one was better?" Logan asked when they were back in the car. He liked the way she laid her head back on the headrest and closed her eyes. It was an image he could get used to.
"Which what?" she asked dreamily.
"The $395 date or the five dollar one?"
"Hmm." She smiled. "Now that's a trick question."
"No, it's not."
"Yes, it is. If I say the five dollar one, I might never get a $395 one again."
His heart soared at the thought that she might want to share either one with him. "Okay, then, don't tell me. I'll just do a little more research and figure it out on my own."
The smile in the depths of her eyes sparked the center of his soul as he glanced at her, still laying against the headrest but looking at him fully.
"Let the research begin."
OoOO
By Friday afternoon, Rory had decided that Logan's declaration had been a case of temporary insanity and nothing more. They had eaten lunch together every afternoon and shared breakfast three mornings, but nothing seemed appreciably different until he walked into her office at four o'clock on Friday afternoon.
"So, you got plans tonight?" he asked, slipping into the chair casually.
"No, you?"
"That depends."
She looked up from her work. "On what?"
"On you."
An involuntary smile spread to her face. "What were you thinking?"
He shrugged. "Say yes, and you'll find out."
Her heart swelled. "Yes."
OoOoO
The entire bathroom smelled like Eternity as she put the final touches on her makeup. Somehow, even though they had spent more hours together than anyone cared to count in the last year, this night seemed to matter more than all the others. He wasn't coming as her friend, he was coming as someone who wanted to be more.
The intercom buzzed, and she raced through the living room. "Come on up."
She looked around her apartment, willing her nerves to stay in her skin. When his knock sounded on her door, all the willing in the world was useless. On unsteady legs, she walked to the door, took one breath, and turned the knob. He stood on her threshold shifting from foot-to-foot, a multi-colored bouquet in hand.
"Hi," Logan said, but it came out more as a whisper, and he cleared his throat. "Hi."
"Hello, you," The butterflies danced the center of her stomach. "Umm, come on in."
He ducked once his feet carried him into the room. "Uh, these are for you."
He smiled as a feeling of flawlessness swept over her. "Thank you." Carefully she took them from him and turned for the kitchen. "Have a seat." Her legs felt like rubber underneath her, and she fought with her brain to stay rational.
As she reached into the cabinet, movement at the door caught her attention, and she glanced over. He was standing there, pressed white shirt under a coal black jacket. He would've looked like he was headed for a business meeting except there was not tie at his neck, and the top button of his shirt was open creating a small v of skin at his neck.
"I figured the others would be wilted by now," he said.
"The others?" she asked struggling to keep her mind on filling the glass and away for how he looked.
"From your ankle."
"Oh, yeah. I threw them out months ago." She wasn't gong to tell him about the two she had pressed in the book next to her bed.
He nodded. "That's what I thought."
Her hands quaked as she set the flowers into the water, fluffed them once, and then picked up the bouquet to put it on her television. As she crossed in front of him, the heat from the one brush with his body sent her mind spiraling in a thousand directions. She set the flowers on the television and then turned, uncertain of where to put her gaze.
"So, you ready?" he finally asked.
"Umm, yeah. I think so."
A smile crossed his lips although he never met her gaze. "Shall we?"
Uncertainly he held out his hand to her and with her heart racing in front of it, her hand lifted and met his. It was truly amazing how safe and easy that action felt. They walked out the door and to his car, simply enjoying how it felt to be together.
He opened her door and took her hand again as she folded herself into the front seat. Then she watched as he ran around, opened his own door, and slipped in beside her.
"You hungry?"
"I'm a Gilmore." She said although no amount of food would calm the butterflies.
"Good." He smiled with a sigh of relief as she started the car and pulled into traffic. Then as though he had been doing it for a million years, his hand slid from the steering wheel to rest lightly on hers. The air that flowed into her lugs was sweeter than any breath she had taken in 25 years. Without a doubt this was the moment she had lived all the other to get to.
OoOoOo
"Okay, strange question," Logan said, leaning across the table to get closer to her.
"What's that?"
"What's your favorite color?"
"My favorite color?" she asked curiously. "Why?"
Casually he shrugged. "In case I want to get you something, and they say, 'What color would you like that in?'"
She thought for a long moment. "Umm, emerald green I guess."
He laughed softly as his gaze dropped to the table. "That figures."
"Why does that figure?" Her eyebrows knotted as she watched him. "What? You don't like green?"
"Oh, no, I'm sure green is fine. I just can't see it."
"Huh?"
Slowly he shifted in the chair as he glanced at her. "I'm color blind."
"You are not."
"I am too. Green's the worst, but read and blue give me trouble too."
"You're lying."
"I am not."
"But you always look so… I mean, how do you make anything look right together? How can you tell?"
His head ducked closer to the table. "Promise not to tell?"
She nodded.
"I tell my tailor what I want and she buys most of my clothes for me, and then she sews these little letters in them so I know what to wear with what."
"You're lying."
"No, I'm not. See." Carefully he pulled the edge of his jacket sleeve up, and there tacked in the inside cuff was a tiny, white B. "B, for black."
"But you said you had trouble with green."
"I do. I can't tell if something is green or gray or black or navy, so just in case it think this jacket is green, she labels it so I know it's black."
"And how long has she done this?"
"The maid started doing it for me in kindergarten when I colored the top of a tree brown and the bottom green. The teacher thought I was being a smart aleck until they figured out I wasn't doing it to be difficult – I just couldn't tell the difference."
Rory shook her head. "But how do you do anything? How do you drive?"
He shrugged. "Red is on top or left. Green is on bottom or right."
Suddenly riding him with him in a car seemed imminently more dangerous. "But the models?"
"I know what a tree looks like now, and I can see shades of grays, so I just put all the similar shades together. Brian never even questioned it."
She shook her head and smiled at him incredulously.
"What?"
"Nothing. I was just wondering how many more secrets you've got running around in that head of yours."
"Enough to keep you busy for awhile."
"Sounds like a challenge."
"Could be." He looked over at her plate. "You finished?"
"Uh, yeah."
"You want dessert?"
"Of course," she said with a smile.
After ordering chocolate cake with an extra scoop of ice cream the waitress cleared the plates.
"How did you let me eat that much, I'm stuffed," Rory said groaning.
"I wasn't the one who asked for the extra side of ice cream," he replied smiling.
"So, what do you say we get out of here?"
"Sounds good."
He took her hand and helped out of the booth, but once she was out, he didn't let go. They paid and walked slowly out to the car. The warmer temperatures of March had overtaken Hartford so that Rory couldn't tell if the warmth of her skin was from the night or from Logan being so close.
"I thought we could check out The Chameleon Club," he said when they were safely within the confines of the car.
"The Chameleon Club?" she asked uncertainly.
"Unless you want to go somewhere else."
"Oh, no that's fine." She wrapped her concern in her unwaving commitment to making this work. "Sounds like fun."
The club was loud. Extremely loud, and within ten minutes Rory couldn't tell if the pounding was the speakers or her brain.
"Nice place," Logan yelled, leaning in to her, and she nodded. "You want to dance?"
Again she nodded although what she really wanted to do was go home. He took her hand and led her to the dance floor. Her body felt like it was saran-wrapped in the sound – it was like a straightjacket, hemming her in on every side. She moved, hoping her body would translate the sound into something that didn't look hopelessly abnormal.
They had been dancing several minutes before she dared a glance at him. With the strobe light flashing across the profile of his face, he looked unbelievably handsome, like some movie star who had just stepped off the screen. It was then that she remembered the tiny B stitched into his sleeve, and she smiled.
Every other girl in the place would look at him and think he was absolute perfection, she looked at him and saw a real man with real flaws and the worst timing in the world, but one who also had the biggest heart in the world and made the most wonderful shrimp spaghetti ever.
The beat faded into a slow song, and he moved closer and folded her into his arms. Gently he took her right hand and placed it over his heart, laying his palm across the back of her hand. His breath was hot against her neck as she closed her eyes and forgot about the crowd and the noise and everything else in the entire world that wasn't him holding her.
His hand at her waist fanned out, and she felt the strength in it pressing through her to the core. It was anything but frightening. In his embrace for the first time in her entire life, she knew she was perfectly safe. There was no question anywhere in her being that being here, wrapped in his arms, was where she was meant to spend the rest of her life.
OoOoOO
"Well, I guess this is good night," Logan said softly as Rory leaned against her door, his arm pressing against the door over her head as though that was where it was meant to be.
"Yeah," she said, feeling his lips on hers even before his body tilted toward her.
Like a breath, his lips brushed hers and then moved away as her entire body screamed for him to return. When he didn't, she opened her eyes and found him gazing at her.
"Thanks for tonight," he said with a hazy smile.
She nodded, knowing her voice wouldn't make it past the pulsing of her heart.
"Are you coming tomorrow?" he asked.
"Where?" she asked, knowing wherever it was, she would be there.
"Your mom's. Brian and I are going to be working over there."
Her smiled spread to her eyes. "I wouldn't miss it."
Finally what y'all have been waiting for. Go ahead, tell me what you think!