Flag on the Play
Part IV
Logan's cellphone began to ring as soon as he'd deposited his grouchy cargo into the passenger's side seat and shut the door. He waited until he was safely out of the rain and in the driver's seat before taking the call. "Yeah," he answered. "Naw…nothing like that."
Ororo gritted her teeth as she listened to his side of the conversation trying hard not to dwell on the pulsing pain in the foot she nursed. Despite the distraction of the pain she could only assume one of his bonehead friends had asked him if he had his hand up her dress.
"She hurt her foot. We're going to take care of it," he paused to listen. "Don't ask," he said as he glanced over at her then down at the foot she was holding with irritation written all over his face. Ororo returned his scowl but was mildly pleased when he reached into the back seat and handed her a white cotton t-shirt. "Don't bleed on my interior," he said as he threw his phone onto the dash, his conversation obviously over.
"Blood would probably be an improvement. Something to distract from the cracked vinyl," she quipped as she noted the car's many imperfections.
"This car is a classic," he gritted out between clinched teeth as he inserted the key into the ignition and attempted to bring the sleeping beast to life only for it to let out a half hearted whine.
"So you're telling me the NFL doesn't pay enough for you to afford a new car?"
"No," he said straining, and failing, not to sound too agitated as he tried to start his baby again. "They pay well enough that I can buy and restore my dream car."
Ororo harrumphed before mumbling under her breath loud enough for Logan to hear, "More like a nightmare." She turned her head to look out of her window with a small smirk on her face. She knew Logan was staring a hole into the back of her head. She bit her lip to hold in her laugh when she heard him exhale in obvious exasperation.
She wiped the smirk off of her face and looked over at him once the engine roared to life. The scorn was still there but this time it was mixed with a pleased self-satisfaction. Ororo rolled her eyes and looked back out of her window.
She'd almost forgotten about the pain in her foot. Toying with this man was too much fun. Never in a hundred years would she tell him that she had car envy. A 1970 Monte Carlo SS was one of the few cars she'd never had the pleasure of driving.
Her father was a bit of a gear head with an affinity for vintage. Naturally Ororo would become one too being that she was a bit of a daddy's girl. Where her father liked all things classy and classic, like Rolls Royce and Mercedes, she was more of a muscle car enthusiast. The more horsepower and torque it had the more her internal engine revved.
Oh yeah…Logan's car really did it for her. And if he were a bit taller and not a jock…or a jerk for that matter, he may have done it for her too. However, he was all of those things and the sooner she could be away from him the better.
"Where are you taking me?" Ororo asked with a tad bit of panic in her voice. She didn't know the city well but she did know she was nowhere near the vicinity of her hotel.
"To my place."
"Your place? Take me to the hotel! Now!"
"Look, darlin', don't get yer panties in a bunch. You probably don't have anything to patch that foot up with but I do. I can stop at a drug store but my place is only a couple more blocks away."
Ororo blew a frustrated breath, "Okay, but don't get any ideas. We'll be in and out."
Logan rolled his eyes for the second time that night, "I'll try to contain myself."
The ride to Logan's penthouse took longer than anticipated. The lightening was intense and the rain wasn't letting up. There was no way he was going to risk skidding into another car and messing up the body of his own. He'd just purchased it a few days earlier and it needed quite a bit of work. The less he had to do the better.
Ororo insisted that she walk on her own accord from the car, through the building, and to his door. Logan wasn't the passive aggressive type and normally wouldn't have submitted to unchivalrous behavior, however this woman really knew how to push his buttons. He could have parked in the nice dry parking garage on the lower deck but where was the fun in that? Instead he parked across the street in guest parking. He should of felt bad for his actions, watching her hobble across the street after he darted across and stood safely under the canopy of the entrance was torture on his conscience, but the "you suck" she offered once she reached him erased all guilt.
The bewilderment and strange looks of the apartment building's staff and an occasional resident that were still up and about at this late hour in his building more than made up for his slightly hurt feelings over the quips she'd made about his car. They were dripping wet but Ororo looked worse for the wear. Smudged makeup and her once neatly pinned up chignon hung in a wild loose clump at the base of her neck. She hadn't noticed that the drenched already clingy white scrap of material some considered a dress was almost transparent. But Logan had. He wanted to lick his lips at the sight. She wasn't wearing a bra that was for sure. He could see her pert nipples fighting the cold rain through the fabric. A thong was the only other scrap of clothing she wore underneath. Thoughts of peeling them off entered Logan's head on their own accord. If she were up to what he thought she was then he'd be doing just that.
Ororo stood just behind Logan as he punched in a code beneath the door handle of his apartment. She rolled her eye when she realized his code consisted simply of zeros, "You make that up all by yourself?"
"What?" he asked in confusion.
"0000," Ororo said.
"Why ya lookin' at my code? Plan on coming back for a visit?" Logan smirked at her as he turned the knob and opened the door.
Ororo scoffed. "Not likely," she said as she limped past him. "And it was kind of hard not to notice. Anyone with half a brain can walk right in here." She turned to look at him as he entered behind her, "See what I mean?" she gestured towards him.
Logan's dark brows furrowed, "You always this nice to someone that's tryin' to help ya out?"
"Only when it's their fault," she grumbled.
He shook his head. He knew he wasn't going to win that argument, "I'll be right back," he said as he disappeared somewhere to her left.
Ororo took in the penthouse. It definitely looked like a man lived there. Enormous screen TV. Dark leather furniture. Tennis shoes next to the door. But there were other things. Things that seemed out of place for a bachelor…throw pillows and knick-knacks. Logan didn't seem like a knick-knack kind of guy. And if the houseplant in desperate need of hydration was any indication, there used to be a woman that frequently spent time here.
She internally shrugged. She didn't care. As a matter of fact, she was sure it was probably a good thing that whoever the poor soul was had gotten out while the getting was good. He'd probably made a fool of this woman like Luke had made of her.
As soon as the thought entered and exited Ororo's mind Logan reappeared in dry clothes consisting of a simple white t-shirt and black nylon sweat pants holding a first aid kit and a towel. He sat on the couch and looked at her.
"You just gon' stand there?"
Saying nothing Ororo limped over sitting next to him. She accepted the towel he gave to her with a soft thank you and began dabbing at the rainwater running down from her temples.
"Give me your foot," he said as he opened the first-aid kit and placed it on the coffee table in front of him.
"I can do it," Ororo said.
"Be my guest," he said as he leaned back and relaxed against the cushions of the couch.
Ororo tossed the towel to the side and finally took a good look at the bottom of her foot. The cut didn't look as bad as she thought it would. It had already stopped bleeding. She knew it needed antiseptic. She dug through the kit and looked at Logan with a mix of agitation and fear. Iodine. Seriously…iodine? That's the only infection fighting agent he had in the whole damn kit. She snatched it up and opened the small brown bottle.
"Don't ya want ta clean it out with some alcohol first?" he asked…a half a smirk firmly pasted on his face.
"No," Ororo snapped. "This will be quite fine."
He watched as she hesitantly touched the wound with the small tip of the applicator. "Ow!" she squealed.
Logan held his laugh but his smirk only grew. "Give me that," he said as he took the iodine from her hand. "Yer not doin' it right," he said as he then took her foot making her turn towards him as he rested her calf across the thick of his thigh.
"It's going to sting," Ororo whined.
"You'll be fine," he said ignoring how cute he thought she sounded when she wasn't being a bitch.
She almost snatched her foot back as she watched the iodine near her foot but he held her ankle firm. As soon as the dark red liquid lit her foot afire it immediately began to extinguish thanks to the cool breath Logan blew against it.
A couple more touches of the medicine and steams of cooling later Logan was placing a gauze pad over the cut and wrapping her foot. He thought her pink polished toes looked cute peeking above the white bandage.
"There. All better," he said, giving the top of her leg a consoling rub as he completed the job.
"Thank you," she said reluctantly as she pulled her foot away and inspected his work.
"So…" he drawled. "You want something to drink? Got some beer…wine." It wasn't that late and he was still trying to get laid. He wanted to give her every opportunity to stop playing hard to get and give in to what he was sure she really wanted.
Ororo eyes slowly slid from her foot and to his chocolate eyes. Her own sparkling blue eyes darkened and narrowed. "No…but you can take me back to my hotel. I said 'in and out' or have you forgotten?"
Logan exhaled and his shoulders slumped a bit. Damn…she was serious. "Naw, I was just being nice. Let's go." Oh well, nothing lost. He was expecting to spend the night alone anyway.