Chapter 43

The patter of raindrops against the unfamiliar tin windowsill of Rory's father's townhouse illustrated well the slightly sleepy sobriety that Logan had woken with. Brisk, misty, but still clearer than the night before. Just taking in the moment between night and morning before he needed to do anything or be anywhere. It was moments like this many celebrated with their first cigarette in the morning, the brief thought giving Logan a flashback to Odette's Parisian apartment, windows opened wide and her robe flowing in the breeze.

Not every glimpse of his past was horrible.

It was also why he was so desperately trying to accept Rory's past for that too. She too had had intimacy with Tucker. She too had shared secrets and inside jokes with the guy.

Logan took a deep breath, trying to wrap his mind around the fact. Just like Rory was accepting him and his ex-wives, he needed to accept hers. After all, there was nothing he could do about his existence. The man he deeply despised and hated based on the things he'd heard was going to be in Rory's life for a long time thanks to their joint child. And Odette was going to be in theirs - if they made this work long term - even if mostly from a distance.

Logan hadn't insisted on Rory spelling everything out for him, seeing how embarrassed even admitting that Tucker had something on her was on her. She'd looked so ambushed, and he hadn't liked the feeling that gave him. For a second he'd become the husband he'd been to Whitney and even at times to Odette… the one that 'knew better' or 'needed to know'. Possibly something very similar to the kind of husband Tucker had been to Rory even.

The look on Rory's face had been one of surprise and relief, when Logan had directed their discussion towards the one time, he'd once played poker and almost won a compromising picture of a British MP, sealed in an envelope, creating a lighter mood instead of inquiring further about the matter.

The Harvard T-shirt Rory had climbed to bed with last night, had been tossed all the way across the room and now rested on a vanity table, Logan having made some joke about red not being her color, before rolling it up into a ball to throw it. They'd certainly worn down their energy levels by vigorous physical activity last night - taking things slow but not terribly steady, rather playing a long game of edging whilst trying to not make it too evident to everyone else in the house what they were up to.

Logan glanced away from the rain-dotted window pane, and traced Rory's spine with his eyes instead, admiring her grace. Involuntarily his mind kept coming back to the mystery most prominent in his mind, trying to guess what the piece of data Tucker had on her could be.

There weren't that many things that would be especially embarrassing to a mother of a teenager and a teacher if he recalled her exact words. Things of sexual content came to his mind first. A sex tape? Boudoir photography? Maybe she'd written a smutty novel? Or possibly something to do with family planning - maybe that school of hers didn't approve abortions or something? But that couldn't be right - this wasn't Oklahoma. Surely, she didn't have another kid out there, he just couldn't picture that. Something about her means of getting ahead in life? But she hadn't gotten anywhere that spectacular, even if there was nothing shameful about what she did. Nepotism? Sleeping her way to the top? Doubtful. Love affair with a student? Unlikely, and she had said it wasn't illegal. It couldn't be just some silly, embarrassing pictures, like a stupid Halloween costume fail or getting locked out of a dressing room without one's clothes or a video of her singing in the shower, off key.

Logan's instincts were to pull the guy aside, preferably somewhere potentially embarrassing for him, like his work, and have a serious double-talk-filled conversation with him and show him his upper hand. His power, his wealth, his intelligence, and his place in Rory's life. But considering all this was about potentially setting him off, he couldn't really do anything of the sorts without risking Rory's wellbeing. There was the option of setting a PI on him, digging up enough dirt to have something equal on him. But that too could be seen as a declaration of war. And as Rory had said - whatever he had - he might not ever remember having it. That was the most optimistic scenario, wasn't it. Some piece of data, possibly in some old format, hopefully forgotten about until the external hard drive in question gets too clogged with dust or a cleaner knocks over a soda on it, wiping its contents. Better yet infected by some virus the guy got off a porn site.

He deliberated whether there wasn't some simple, DIY, method to solve this. Like have Corinne loan the hard drive for something or other and simply destroy it by "accident"? And if so, why hadn't Rory used it. It was not like she was never in that apartment of his, even if briefly. But then again it was not like any of them were terribly experienced in some Veronica-Mars-like evidence-hampering.

He realized that the thing that bothered him the most about this was that this thing… This looming threat was on occasion making Rory behave like someone else. This wasn't the Rory he believed he knew. And he believed to know her well, even if the short time wasn't proof of that. He just got her. He got the game she played, offering him the perfect amount of challenge. If he were to be honest - she was the air that he needed to breathe.

It was in that moment when he realized that maybe he'd been not like himself either, all these years. And suddenly the ring his finger itched, and his other hand turned it on its place. But instead of the safety and familiarity that its presence had offered until now, now it just felt suffocating.

Logan had been planning on removing it. For weeks now, in fact. He'd even discussed it with Liam, it was just Theo he'd been waiting on, wanting to talk to him first. To not spring it on him but make sure he'd be okay with him removing it too. Keeping that ring on his finger, even despite essentially noble reason, hadn't been like him. While there were things he would've liked to have gone differently, in his person he didn't deeply, truly, believe he'd been to blame for Whitney's choices. Nor had he had any influence on anything that had gone on in that operating room before her life had been lost.

He used to be so good at knowing how to shed his guilt when it was necessary and take his chances when it was good for him. All these years he'd barely been himself at all, believing feeling guilty would somehow make things up for his children. It was false logic, really.

With a deep inhale he pulled the ring from his finger, feeling the cool air against that patch of skin that hadn't gotten a lot of air. God - it had been nearly 20 years. He couldn't quite comprehend it himself. There was a tan line there too. The thought of people thinking how that tan line might somehow make him recently divorce, or casually divorced when it was convenient to him, made him want to chuckle, and he did - a little bit.

"What are you laughing about?" Rory murmured, her eyes still closed.

"Oh, just contemplating life…," Logan chimed, and snuggled closer to her. His other hand reached behind him, and placed the ring next to his phone, just putting it out of the way. At this moment, the act he'd been fearing, had been that easy. A move he'd made almost casually when faced with the alternative. Logan almost didn't believe how easy. And the reason for it was so definitely her.

Logan gave her a little peck on the lips. The sleepiness in Rory's eyes faded as her pupils grew wider, focusing on the face that was about to kiss her.

"I love you," Logan said, after a second of pause, feeling like his earlier statement really didn't cover it. It was what his contemplation had made more than obvious to him. He hoped it hadn't sounded too casual, as there was nothing casual about it.

It wasn't a causal effect of removing the ring, not really - he loved her regardless of the ring. But it was as if it had set him free somehow, like it gave him permission to doubt himself less, trust his gut again - that maybe he deserved to allow himself something more than criticism.

Rory pulled back a little, wanting to look at him better, as if needing a second to really take in that he'd said it. Naturally, Rory smiled.

"I love you, too," Rory replied innocently, not needing to speak loudly. But the humbleness of that sentence was really all that was needed.

The relief that washed over him was overwhelming.

"You've wrapped me around your little finger like nobody's business…," Logan hummed, victoriously chuckling from joy. He didn't allow her to argue as he engaged her tongue otherwise.

There was barely any time before Rory actually needed to get up. But this just couldn't wait. The euphoria just took over.

Rory's fingers reached for Logan's half-mast member, and were quick to arouse him fully, while Logan continued to kiss her, his hands making sure her breast, sides and arms were not left without caressing.

Rory was still deliciously tender from their earlier encounter, but still her body ached for him to fill her again. There was no better way to wake than in his arms, finally hearing him admit to the words she'd always internally believed he had in him and to feel his need to press against her labia as urgently as it was now.

Rory gasped at the touch, causing Logan to hum through the kisses he was laying on her neck.

Their hips moved, continuing to tease each-other.

"And you've made me a junky of this, of you," Rory murmured, half-jokingly, referring to his abilities in bed. Half of it was her doing - her knowing her body just right. And even if it sounded silly, she couldn't help thinking there was just something about physical compatibility that added to their sureness of this.

Logan laughed quietly, knowing exactly what she meant.

"My drug of choice, too," Logan replied and pushed in.

A few thrusts along with muffled moans, Rory's phone rang, chiming her morning wakeup ringtone. They stopped for a second but remained connected, allowing Rory to reach for the phone and silence it. They both knew they needed to hurry.

Rory's lips were back on his in a hurry, and her legs clutched to his hips, allowing him as deep as possible.

Logan hissed at her intensity, the movement of her hips acting as encouragement, and pressed his nose against her earlobe.

Logan's one hand finger intertwined with her, and pushed her hand up by her head, illustrating their battle for climax. Rory had her own means of winning, however… if there were to be a winner. Rory dipped his fingers, one at the time, that still tasted like her, into her mouth, providing him with a delicious visual.

Logan's mind had been too goal-driven to really notice the tiny change in Rory's eyes as she'd realized he was no longer wearing his ring.

It was a pleasant surprise but did raise questions in Rory. What did this mean?

At that move, Logan, however, sank his lips lower to her breast and grazed her left nipple with his teeth, causing her to moan, having to bite their blanket to keep quiet. Obviously, his move distracted her enough to push any questions aside - there were more urgent matters at hand.

They rutted barely through the second alarm, accepting that this was going to be a morning of brief and desperate releases over the lengthy and more delicious kind.

With two pairs of smiley - pleasantly glowing cheeks they were up without delay not much later and got on with their day. In this moment, Rory was more than ready to face Tucker, almost wanting him to see her in her afterglow. Just enough to annoy him, but enough to keep things cordial - the fine balance she wanted to maintain with him.