It was the tickle that stirred Rory awake in the morning. It started off as a light sensation that could easily be confused as a part of a dream. Lazy, and not wanting to open her eyes to the world just yet, Rory ignored it and subconsciously hoped that whatever type of fly it was, it would eventually dart out into another space. These were the terrors of sleeping in a two star hotel where the bugs were enormous and the flies were always irritating.
She tried to drift back into her dream were she last remembered seeing the brown eyes and the reaching hand. She also hoped that the last twenty-four hours were a troublesome illusion made up by her depressed state of being. As she began to lose herself in the visions she began to smell salty sea air that didn't belong in the premises of her mind, she couldn't even remember the last time she had gone to a beach and it would have cost her an arm and a leg to get a hotel with nearness to the ocean.
Suddenly, the fly was back and the feeling it caused over her skin intensified as it worked it's way up her leg. The tingle was getting ridiculously higher and the feeling was causing goosebumps over her exposed flesh. Then she sensed the same tickle around her breast, circling her nipple and taking it's time there. She was beginning to think that she was in danger and that perhaps this was no fly, maybe it had been a confused massive roach climbing it's way up her body! This thought alone was enough motivation for her to try and open her heavy eyes.
It took a little effort and her eyes still weren't open all the way but she was definitely not in her crappy hotel room. In fact, she had no idea were she was. The sheets themselves where a dark gray fluffy Egyptian cotton, next to her was a steel night table with the most modern looking lamp she'd ever seen. Her eyes were opening wider now and she didn't need to lift her head to witness the most beautiful sight to her right. It was an open balcony with airy french doors that led to a view of the California hills and a wide ocean.
"Oh God." She mumbled as she struggled to sit up.
It was then that three things became apparent: her body hurt everywhere and her head was near ready to imploded with pain, she was utterly and completely nude with only a small stretch of Egyptian sheets, and she was not alone.
"Good morning gorgeous, I was getting worried that you wouldn't wake up." Murmured one very naked Logan Huntzberger in her ear while lightly tracing a burgundy rose up her nearest arm.
"Oh God!" Cried Rory visibly panicked and ready to die.
"Rory," said Logan sensing her alarm and laying down the rose on his night table.
The notion did not settle her and she began to grab onto all the covers available to cocoon herself into safety from his nude self. In the process she looked down and noticed her underwear from the previous night resting on the floor.
What had she done?
"Oh god!" She whimpered again.
"Rory it's okay." Logan said soothingly, trying to reach out to her through the mountain of covers.
"What happened last night? I...I can't remember anything."
"You were at Moncyny." He alerted, trying to get some kind of eye contact from her.
"Why are my clothes on the ground!" She asked, yelling at the floor and still refusing to look in his direction.
"I can't believe you don't remember."
He sounded upset and Rory couldn't take it. She drawn a total blank on last night like never before, she had never gotten that drunk in her life and forgotten vital information. She was never the girl that woke in the penthouses of ex boyfriends. She knew alcohol impaired judgment but she had no idea it could ever be this bad.
"This is so not about you right now Logan!" She started to move with every intention of getting out of the bed and grabbing her clothes but Logan wasn't having it.
He grabbed the mountain of covers and violently threw them, Rory watched them land halfway across the room before they flopped down. There was absolutely no barrier between the two of their naked bodies now and Rory prayed with every ounce of her fate that they were both naked in bed for a different reason than what she suspected. Perhaps she vomited last night, it landed everywhere and they were both safer taking their clothes off, then perhaps they were too tired to do anything but sleep after the clothes were off. Even on her worst day she knew better than to sleep with this man, right? His father was responsible for all of her current misery. He was the indirection reason she ended up in that god forsaken bar.
"Rory, look at me." He commanded.
She had never heard him sound so serious before and it was sort of scary. She slowly lifted her head to meet his intense gaze. He took this movement as a good sign and got a hold of her face, cupping it delicately while keeping the eye contact. Rory felt like she was going to burst. His eyes were still the same shade of dreamy hazel they only looked older and more experienced, his hair looked blonder and messier, he appeared as if he hadn't shaved in a couple days and his five o'clock shadow accentuated his defined jawline. He could definitely fit the bill of sexiest man alive and it wasn't helping her situation. She could already feel her lower parts reacting to his attention.
"I know that your freaking out right now and your probably more scared that you'd ever been. I just...I want you to know that nothing happened last night that you didn't want to happen. I can understand if you don't remember anything, hard liquor does that to you now and then but you have to trust me. Look, I ordered room service a couple minutes ago and they should be here any second now. I want us to talk over breakfast and I'll answer any questions about last night, just give me a chance."
Before she could answer they heard a knock on the door, he quickly kissed her forehead and let go. She just sat there hardly breathing and shaking, though she managed to get a good look of Logan's rock solid ass before he put on a rope and went to answer the door.
It was when he was out of sight that she started to get up and search for her clothes.
"Oh. Ow." She whimpered to herself.
She was sore everywhere. Shimmying in her underwear she could no longer deny the fact that her and Logan had a sexual encounter, the way her legs and other extremities felt she couldn't deny that they probably had more than one encounter. Looking for her bra she came across the most distressing sight that proved all her worst premonitions.
Apparently there was a waste basket next to Logan's side of the bed that was half way filled with used up condoms...
She had to leave.
She was past any type of talk.
In lightening speed she dressed back into her slacks and blouse, she was even able to find one of her heels but time was running out and she couldn't find the matching one. She scratched her head anxiously, knowing that Logan would be back at any moment and that's when she felt it.
The fourth finger on her left hand was fitted with the same ring that Logan carried around three years ago. The same magnificent, sparkling, expensive diamond that ruined their relationship and same ring that she returned.
This could not be happening.
She scanned the room and then something else caught her eye on Logan's night table, it was a legal folder. With nothing left to lose and terror prompting her, she opened the legal folder and found something inside that took her breath and made her run out of the room, letting the papers inside spill all over the hardwood floors.
The penthouse was ridiculously humungous and everywhere she looked there was a view worth millions and appliances that she didn't recognize. She raced through a narrow hallway with one heel wondering where the hell she was. She couldn't really be married, those papers no matter how legit they looked had to be a joke. Unfortunately, the seriousness with which Logan spoke to her made her doubt that she did anything cute and light-hearted last night. More like immensely important, legally binding, and stupid.
"Right over here." She heard Logan ushering in nearly the entire restaurant staff that came to deliver practically everything on the menu. She could make out french toast, beacon, pancakes, fruits. Three years apart and he hadn't forgotten her appetite.
When he heard her approach he expelled the biggest smile to ever grace his face, however, it quickly disappeared when he saw her dressed and ready to leave.
"Rory, don't leave yet," he pleaded making his way towards her while workers kept shuffling in and out of the room with plates.
Caught in her own trance and searching for her missing shoe she ignored him.
He sighed, "You saw the papers didn't you."
"I can't do this I'm missing a shoe." She responded.
"Rory couldn't you just wait in bed? I asked you to give me a chance to explain, why is that so hard to understand?"
She stopped and looked up at the never ending ceiling before looking at him.
"I don't want to talk Logan! I know that in the last couple hours you were able to conceive a detailed and through explanation as to why I would get drunk and married in that order but as of right now I don't want to hear it. I've had enough of you and I've had enough of your family and all I really want to do this find my freaking shoe!"
The workers, all shocked by her outburst began to work a little slower to catch a good view of the show.
"And why is that?"
"Because I want to get the hell out of here!"
He rephrased, "How have you had enough of them or me when we hadn't been a part of each others lives in three years Rory!" He emphasized the number.
"Are you kidding me? Daddy Huntzberger has been doing a pretty good job making sure that I don't work in any newspaper except the Advocate. I can't ever win with him, he hated me when I was with you and he hates me now when I'm not so next time you see him be sure to tell him I will not be leaving journalism even if it means I have to fight him on it everyday."
"Why don't you tell him yourself! We're married now. What's mine is yours, remember?"
"No actually I can't say I do." She laughed mirthlessly.
"So what now Rory? Your just going to leave?" He shouted slightly panicked.
"No, I'm going to find my shoe first."
Shuffling through the couch didn't seem to be helping any so she continued her search around the tables. Logan, ever so unhelpful only stood there and glared.
"You wanted us to get married Rory. I couldn't force this on you, you wanted it! I mean I admit I definitely wasn't excited to see you what with that last rejection and all but I thought you had changed, I thought that maybe the old you had evolve into a bar dancing stripper who wouldn't mind choosing love over work for once."
"We all can't be hippies Logan. Some of us have work. Some of us have a long way to go because we weren't bred into journalism with the last name Huntzberger." Replied a distracted Rory.
"That's not even a valid argument anymore and I still can't believe you bring that up after three years! It's not my choice how I was raised Rory, but if the name is all you obsess about then you can stop now because it's already yours!"
She closed her eyes, "I'm trying really hard to think of a reason why I would marry you but right now nothing rings a – ", just then Logan grabbed the back of her head roughly and led her into a kiss.
Suddenly the headache, the soreness, the shoe were all in the back of her mind. This kiss and his soft lips against hers was overloading her senses. She hadn't felt anything like it in years and it wasn't normal. It wasn't mediocre by any means. Even though it was brought forth by sheer rage it was the way she felt herself so connected to someone else, the way that she knew he was probably experiencing the same feelings that made this kiss that more meaningful.
When it ended Logan still had his eyes closed and rested his lips on her forehead with an attempted to get back to reality. Then looking past him something caught Rory's eye.
She let out a sigh of relief, "Finally..." And began walking around Logan.
Logan remained rooted to the floor, "Your staying?" He inquired eagerly, trying not to get his hopes up with this flighty woman.
"No I found my shoe." Declared the happy wife.
With that she wiggled her foot inside and started making her way past the employees and out of the penthouse. She didn't look back afraid that his demeanor after the kiss would induce her weak side into staying but she couldn't. He was the enemy, after all.
The last thing she heard him shout on her way past the door was, "This isn't over."
She wasn't affected by those three words because as far as she was concerned it was.