Chapter 25 - Fever
A/N I've been debating with myself for months whether to publish this chapter (picking up where the last one left off), or to skip ahead to the following morning. Nothing really advances the plot much here, but maybe (hopefully?) you'll like it a little. Not sure if it could be any more corny. I'm a little rusty.
A/N See my Tumblr for songs mentioned in this chapter. Add /tagged/SilverFics-playlists to the end of the my URL
Veronica – Day Seven – Bluebell, Alabama
Giant alligator? Must not have heard that correctly.
Veronica tightened her grip on Logan's shoulder, leaning to the left and peering around him.
Long snout. Squat legs. Webbed feet. Teeth.
Lots of teeth.
Hair lifted on the back of her neck. "Yep. That's an alligator."
Logan slowly lowered her to the ground, speaking through his teeth. "What the hell are we supposed to do?"
"Stay perfectly still."
"Think that'll trick him?" His hands tightened on her hips.
Something between a growl and a hiss issued from the beast's throat.
"Nope. I think he's on to us."
"Dammit. Have anything in your purse?"
"Not a juicy steak."
"Surprising, knowing your appetite. But I was thinking something more like your taser." His face was ashen, even in the minimal glow from the moon.
"Do you really want to get close enough to an alligator to taser it?"
"It's not my first choice for Saturday night fun. So then, what do we do?"
"Do unprovoked alligators attack?"
"I have no idea." Logan let out a nervous laugh. "In the water, maybe. They'll try to drown you by rolling. Don't think I've ever heard of one attacking adults on dry land."
Am I imagining it, or is that thing closer now?
"Maybe we should run," Veronica said.
"Like in a zigzag pattern?"
"I don't know. I think that's a myth." She sighed. "To be honest, I'm not sure I'm in any condition for more running. My head's still spinning."
"From me or the alcohol?"
A little of both, to be honest. But I'm admitting nothing.
He glanced at the creature again, and scratched his head. "People wrestle those things."
"Logan!" She smacked him on the chest. "Are you crazy? You're not going to wrestle an alligator."
"Maybe I could hold its mouth closed or something, and you could hit it with a branch.
She snorted. "And if you're holding its mouth closed, how am I supposed to avoid hitting you?"
"Good point." Logan glanced up above them. "Okay. New plan. At the count of three, I'm going to lift you up, and you're going to grab that tree limb."
Veronica followed his eyes up to a thick branch. "Then how would you get up? It's too high to jump."
"Don't worry about me."
She peered around his shoulder finding the alligator even closer. "No. We're in this together, Logan. No martyrs."
"Bullshit." Logan's hands tightened on her hips, and he shifted his weight in preparation to lift her. "I'll try to get a hand under your foot, so I can hoist you up."
"Not. Happening." Veronica said.
He sighed in annoyance. "You want us both to get eaten?"
"We stick together."
"Fine. Give me your bag," he said with a sullen exhale, easing the green canvas off her shoulder.
"I told you, there's nothing edible in there."
"No, but it's huge and solid. I can either swing it like a weapon, or toss it in his mouth. Maybe I could jam his jaws open and buy us enough time to get past him."
"I have expensive equipment in there."
"Equipment worth being eaten over?"
"When you put it that way…" she sighed. "What if you miss?"
Logan gave her a 'what-do-you-think?' look and she shuddered.
The alligator was definitely closer now. Smiling maniacally.
"You're remarkably calm," Logan said.
"Only on the outside." She touched his cheek tenderly, and he leaned into her hand. "My heart is pounding like crazy."
"Mine too." He searched her eyes. "Just in case this doesn't work…anything you want to say before we become midnight snacks?"
"Talking is overrated," she whispered, curling her fingers around his jaw and drawing him closer.
Logan's laugh had a manic edge to it. "Can't say you're not determined."
His lashes lowered, and his lips were a mere millimeter away from hers, when a loud voice called out. "Burt Reynolds!"
Logan startled, pulling away and glancing over his shoulder. "Nope!" He called back. "And I always considered myself more of a James Dean or Marlon Brando, to be honest."
Veronica rolled her eyes. Keep dreaming!
Lavon Hayes threw back his head and laughed. "Not you, son. My gator. Burt Reynolds, go home."
Both Logan and Veronica stared in awe as the alligator turned his head and began crawling away.
"I'm sorry. Did I just hear you right?"
"I know," Lavon lifted a hand. "Burt Reynolds is an unusual name, but my favorite movie of all time is Smoky and the Bandit."
"And I thought the words 'my alligator' was the unusual part," Logan muttered.
"He's a good boy, but he likes to play tricks on strangers when we take our walks." He grinned, and his eyes crinkled up in the corners.
Like Wallace's. That's what's been niggling at me all evening. He reminds me a bit of Wallace.
"So that alligator is your pet?" Logan asked. "He's never tried to eat you?"
"He's a good boy. Had him since he was this big." Lavon held his hands about a forearm's width apart.
"Do you take him on the road with you and the team?" Veronica asked.
"Naw. My parents take care of him for me while I'm away."
"Nice of them," Logan said, in a way that actually meant 'crazy of them'
"Well, I'll let you two lovebirds get back to what you were doing." Lavon drawled with a sly smile. "We were on our way back to the Rammer Jammer. The cooks leave buckets of leftovers by the back door for Burt whenever I'm in town."
Veronica peered over Logan's shoulder. "We're not lovebirds. And we weren't doing anything."
"Suuuuure you weren't." His grin widened, displaying a mouth full of teeth. "Don't explain yourself to me. Lavon Hayes is Team Logan." He tipped his panama hat and followed after his pet alligator.
"Logan! He knows who we are," Veronica said, taking several steps in the direction Lavon had headed.
"Yeah, I had a feeling he might." Logan said, blowing out a breath. "He doesn't seem inclined to turn us in, though." He turned and brushed loose tree bark off the back of her dress.
"That's my butt, mister." Veronica put up a token protest, although she didn't mind in the least.
"Grandfathered," he answered absently, snatching his hat from the ground and returning it to his head. "Guess we should be getting back?"
Veronica held out her hand, and after staring at it for a moment, Logan smiled and twined his fingers with hers.
The walk back to town took twice as long as their flight from the bar, as they were in no particular hurry.
Although nobody waited outside the Rammer Jammer, they skirted far around the premises just to be safe.
A live rendition of Sheryl Crow's 'I Shall Believe' spilled out from the open patio door, so Logan's friend must have resumed playing after the fight. Veronica's chest tingled with the first tendrils of jealousy, and she swallowed, attempting to push the sensation away.
He left with me. He's holding my hand.
He was watching her with guilty eyes, so she pulled his arm around her shoulder and leaned into him. "What a night, huh?"
"It was…interesting," Logan acknowledged. "Least the fight's over."
"I'm beginning to think this 'heat wave fever' might be a real thing. I can't believe I almost punched somebody tonight."
"My fault," Logan said. "I shouldn't have tricked Tansy like that."
"Well, I shouldn't have kissed Wade, either." She tugged Logan to a stop. "Hey. Let's make a pact."
"Okay?"
"From now on, we leave other people out of our drama."
"Deal." Logan smiled at the ground before lifting his eyes to meet hers. "No matter how jealous you get."
On Main Street, they cut a diagonal path across the picturesque town square. It was abandoned this time of night, but still well-lit.
From nearby, came the sound of whistling.
Logan's head lifted, glancing around to identify where the sound was coming from.
To Veronica, it sounded as if it was coming from above them. The tone was thin and reedy - most likely, a drunk - but the tune was instantly recognizable.
"That's Moon River." She said, unable to help letting out a girlish sigh.
Logan paused to look at her, tilting his head in question.
"I was seven or eight. And my dad and mom danced around the living room to this song. They were laughing and so happy, and I thought it was the most romantic thing I'd ever seen."
Logan examined her for another moment, and then his mouth stretched into a mischievous smile, and he tugged Veronica's hand, pulling her up the two steps to the center of the gazebo.
"What are you doing?" she asked with a laugh.
He twirled her around once by the hand and then pulled her close, putting one hand on her waist. "Dancing."
"We already danced tonight."
"That was completely different," he said in a low voice. "Hey, I just thought we could tell our grandchildren someday about the time we danced in the Bluebell town square to an old drunk whistling Moon River."
"OUR grandchildren?"
"Well yeah...you could tell your grandchildren...Tom, Dick, and Harry. And I could tell my own grandchildren, Thomas, Richard and Harold. That's all I meant." Logan winked at her.
Veronica laughed. "I see what you did there."
He smiled and touched his forehead to hers.
"I know your secret, Logan," she whispered.
"I was framed."
"You're a hopeless romantic. You're an eight year old girl."
"You have no evidence of that."
She closed her eyes and pressed her face to his shoulder. How did Lilly ever let you get away? "I have to admit, when I imagined dancing with you, I never dreamed it would be anything like this."
"You imagined dancing with me?"
Dammit, alcohol! Why did I say that?
"Um...you know. Maybe when I was younger. At a school dance or something."
"And am I your date at this imaginary school dance, or just a backup?"
Veronica's heart constricted. You've never been the backup to me. She was drunk, but not drunk enough to ever admit that to him. Especially since his first choice had been Lilly.
A second whistler joined in from somewhere nearby, stronger and much more in tune. They laughed and moved closer together.
"It's almost Homecoming back in Neptune," she said, instead of answering his question.
"Yeah? Have a hot date we need to get you back for?"
"Hardly," she snorted. "Although from the way Troy was eyeing those posters, I'm pretty sure he was going to ask me. How about you?"
"Caitlin. Before the whole Chardo thing. She'll probably go with Troy now. Guess that leaves us as the spares."
"Could you even imagine you and me walking into the Homecoming dance together?"
"I have a harder time with the 'walking into the dance' part than the 'you and I' part."
"Come on," she scoffed. "The king of the school with the town pariah?"
Logan ducked to meet her eyes. "Do you think I care what anybody else thinks?"
Veronica's breath caught. "I guess not." She squeezed his neck. Warm and solid against the palm of her hand.
"Hey Veronica."
"Huh?"
Logan flashed the puppy dog eyes. "Will you go to Homecoming with me?"
She laughed. "Right. Liam will never find us back where we started."
"I don't mean in Neptune, smarty. I mean, once we get to Florida."
Is he asking me out on a date?
"We could dress up. All three of us. Go somewhere nice. Pretend to be normal for a while..." he trailed off.
All three of us?
Oh. He wants to bring Duncan along. Not a date.
"Sounds like a blast."
At least I already have a dress.
Veronica – Day Seven – Bluebell, Alabama – Whippoorwill Blossom Inn
The room key did not want to slide into the lock. Or, more accurately, Veronica was experiencing hand/eye coordination issues. Tiny scratch marks on the antique brass highlighted her failures.
"I can pick any lock. Why can't I open this one with a key?" She complained with a laugh.
"Let me try," Logan abandoned his inspection of the chrome room service cart left outside their room.
Veronica turned around, pressing her back to the door and holding the key up, enticingly. "If you can get this door open within two minutes, I'll—"
She broke off as Logan turned the doorknob and she nearly stumbled backwards into the room. He swept an arm around her before she could fall on her butt, pulling her snug against his chest, and she laughed again, wrapping both of her arms around his neck.
He gazed down at her in amusement from under the brim of his fedora, and she released an appreciative sigh.
Damn that hat!
And those eyes. Damn them, too.
Logan reached out to pull the room-service cart into the room and kicked the door closed behind him.
"What is that?"
"Complimentary for the newlyweds," Logan said, walking her backwards. "Champagne and chocolate covered strawberries."
Her legs bumped against the mattress, and he applied gentle pressure on her hips to try to make her sit.
Oh no you don't. You're not putting me to bed. At least not alone.
Veronica held tightly to Logan's neck, falling backward and pulling him on top of her.
"What are you doing, you little drunk?" Logan grinned down at her.
"Who's drunk? I'm not drunk." He was heavy above her, and she loved the feeling.
"Sure, you're not." Logan pulled up, sliding a hand under the small of Veronica's back, lifting and levering her so that her head rested on the pillow. He remained above her, but took his weight off by shifting his left hip to the mattress.
Veronica ran her fingers along the nape of his neck, tracing the divide between his soft hair and his smooth skin.
"Whatcha doin, V?" He whispered, looking down into her eyes.
I believe the correct term would be 'lusting'.
"Not much. Admiring your hat."
"This old thing?" His nose scrunched up. "This little blonde talked me into buying it."
"Do you always do what little blondes tell you to do?"
Logan's voice was soft, and slightly husky. "I'm powerless to resist."
He was so close, and Veronica's eyes fluttered closed in anticipation. The air tasted of mint when she breathed in. His air. His mint. She experienced a whoosh in her belly and let out a tiny hum.
Logan laughed softly, rolling onto his back, and crossing his arms under his head.
Seriously?
Powerless to resist, my ass.
Veronica opened her eyes, turning on her right side to face Logan. One eyebrow lifted quizzically.
"Bet you thought I was going to kiss you," Logan said, turning to face her.
"The idea occurred to me."
"Can't let that happen, can we?" His eyes lowered to her mouth, while his thumb traced her bottom lip.
She closed her eyes. "Because…?"
"Because – what were your words? – I've missed my one and only chance?"
"Oh yeah."
I did say something like that, didn't I?
"Unless we're trying to fake out the cops. Right?"
"Right." Veronica whispered, caught up in the cadence and rhythm of his voice.
"You sure?" Logan asked, rolling on his left side to face Veronica. "Because you look like a girl who wants to be kissed."
"Mmmm." Veronica said. "NOT kissing you is…"
"Is what?" Logan bobbed his eyebrows once.
"...is...exhilarating."
"Wow!" Logan pulled away and rolled onto his back. "Way to stroke the ego, Veronica. Let me make sure I heard that correctly. You think it's exhilarating to NOT kiss me." He covered his eyes with both hands.
"That's what I said."
"Am I that bad of a kisser?" He lifted one hand to peek at her.
"No...no…" Veronica laughed softly. "That's not what I meant."
"By all means, elaborate."
"It's just..." She rolled onto her stomach to look at him, propping her chin on her hand. "You know that feeling?"
"Feeling?"
"That whoosh? Butterflies in your belly? The big drop on a roller coaster?"
Logan nodded, breaking into her favorite smile. The one with the teeth. "Go on."
"So every time we almost kiss, but don't, I know I still have another roller coaster ride coming."
He nodded as if he knew exactly what she was talking about. "Anticipation is the purest form of pleasure."
"Who said that?"
"Some dude on Dawson's Creek. But it resonated with me."
Dawson's Creek? Of course.
"Well there's that…" Veronica began, a grin spreading across her face. "…plus the fact that you're a crappy kisser."
"What?" Logan's jaw dropped in surprise, and then he laughed and rolled on top of her. "What?" He repeated, moving his knees to straddle her. "For that, I think I'll kiss you after all."
He puckered up exaggeratedly.
"No!" Veronica giggled.
Logan held her wrists down gently, and kissed the tip of her nose with a loud smooching sound. He kissed her forehead, each cheek, and her chin.
Veronica laughed, trying to escape his kisses.
"Ew! Ew! Ew!" she shrieked, when he licked a stripe up her right cheek. She bucked him off with her hips. "That was so gross," she said, wiping at her cheek.
Logan sat back on his heels, laughing at her reaction.
"Jackass!"
"Why? Because I missed a spot?"
"You wish!"
He climbed out of bed, unbuckling his black leather belt. "I wish? You were the one who was all: 'please-kiss-me-Logan' a few times tonight." He made kissy lips at her and stepped out of his jeans, folding them neatly and laying them on the dresser. Tonight's boxers were a solid black matching his henley.
Nice legs.
"Please kiss me Logan? You are so delusional."
Okay, so maybe I did want him to kiss me once or twice.
Maybe I still do.
That's a definitely.
"I'm sorry. I'm being an ass." Logan gave her a rueful grin. "I meant what I said earlier about you being drunk. I shouldn't be teasing you like that."
"You're right about the ass part." Veronica stood and moved to the mirror near the door loosening the pins in her wig. "But I'm not drunk."
She followed his movements as he wheeled the squeaky room service cart over to the side of the bed and lifted the silver cloche.
They were at an impasse.
He wasn't wrong in that she might feel differently in the morning. Were they to lock lips tonight, she might regret it tomorrow, but she suspected it would be the opposite. She was more likely to regret if they didn't. Because for once, the voice in her head was silent. The voice that warned her to keep her distance and protect her heart. The voice that insisted Logan would only hurt her and let her down.
Tonight, Logan was irresistible, and she only wanted to be close to him.
As if he'd been summoned, he approached from behind, while she watched his eyes in the mirror.
"Peace offering?" He lifted a chocolate dipped strawberry with white chocolate swirls to her lips. She smiled and she took a large bite.
"Heavenly!" she said, once she'd had a chance to swallow.
"Thought you'd like that." Logan handed her the rest if the strawberry and returned to the room service cart.
Veronica tossed her wig on the nearby dresser, and very carefully removed the brown contact lenses, returning them to the solution-filled container inside her messenger bag. She finished the strawberry, and threw the stem in the garbage.
The champagne opened with a loud pop, and when she glanced over, Logan was drinking it straight from the bottle and staring at her oddly.
What's his problem?
"Is something wrong?" she asked.
Logan didn't answer. She finger-combed her hair in the mirror and watched him watch her.
"Why are you looking at me as if you'd seen a ghost?" she asked, moving back to kneel on the bed facing him.
Logan opened his mouth and then froze, as if afraid to respond.
"Logan...?"
"It's just that dress you're wearing…"
Veronica glanced down at her dress. White with black embroidery. A-line. Strapless. "You don't like my dress?"
"I do like it. You look very pretty. It's just that…every now and then tonight…it reminds me a lot of..." He trailed off, ran a hand through his hair.
When has Logan Echolls ever been afraid of confronting things head-on?
He met her eyes again. "I think…maybe we should talk about what happened at Shelly's party last year."
Veronica's blood turned to ice and, overcome with nausea, she flung herself towards the edge of the bed, in fear of vomiting.
Not Logan! Please God, not Logan!
He was beside her instantly, gathering her hair back from her face. Luckily, she was able to contain the nausea to a dry heave.
"Shhhh. It's okay," he murmured, and she was torn between accepting his comfort and wanting to rip herself away from his touch.
He thought I was a virgin. How could he think I was a virgin if he'd raped me?
Veronica inhaled and exhaled until the sick feeling passed. Finally, she glanced back at Logan who was staring at her with compassionate eyes.
"You okay? Maybe you should eat some more."
"I think so." She leaned against the headboard, breathing in and out. Centering herself. "What were you saying about Shelly's party?"
"You were pretty wasted that night. Even drunker than you are tonight."
She didn't correct him.
"Do you remember what we did to you?"
The nausea returned with a rush. "What do you mean, we?"
He examined his hands. "Me and the guys. The salt lick."
"The salt lick?" she repeated, numbly.
"Yeah…" He glanced back up. "You know, lick the salt, do the shot, and then eat the lime."
She shuddered. "You mean the same disgusting thing you guys did to Shelly that night at Dick's party." Logan nodded, seeming unable to speak. "The same thing I ripped into you for?"
"Yes." He whispered, staring at the ceiling. "The same thing."
Her belly cramped, as if tied up in knots. "You and the boys did that to me?"
"Yes."
"You asshole!" Veronica punched him in the shoulder. Hard. Causing more pain to her hand than to him. He rubbed at the spot, but didn't complain.
She snatched the champagne from him, taking a long pull from the bottle.
"Where was the salt? On me."
"Your neck." He touched the corresponding location on his own neck.
"Which guys?"
He paused to think for a second. "Me, Matt, Joey, and Rick."
"Dick didn't get anywhere near me, did he?" She curled her fingers around a pillow, digging in her nails.
"No, he was in the house."
She exhaled in relief at that one tiny victory, and asked. "Did anybody try to take it any further than that?"
His eyes widened in surprise. "What do you mean, further?"
"Did anybody try to...touch me?"
"No." He held up a hand in protest. "I swear! I would never let anyone..."
She nodded, and took another long swallow of champagne. It was sweet and dry, and the bubbles made her nose scrunch up.
So it wasn't Logan.
"I am so very sorry, Veronica." He ducked to look into her eyes. "I would do anything to take it back."
She stared at him for a long time, searching his eyes for the truth, and then nodded. "It's okay."
Logan shook his head. "No. It's not okay!" His voiced grew louder and cracked with emotion. "I was horrible to you, and I'm so so sorry."
"I know you are."
A snippet of a dream returned to Veronica from their first night on the run. "I think I remember something. I was on a pool lounger. I opened my eyes and you were looking down at me. And I spoke to you. Something weird."
Logan swallowed hard. "Yeah..." His voice was barely above a whisper. "God I hated you in that moment."
Her gut twisted as if she'd been slugged. "I thought you said you never really hated me."
"I did then."
"Why?" Her throat constricted, and she couldn't keep the hurt out of her voice. "What did I do?"
"Because you wouldn't hate me." Logan pulled his knees into his chest and hugged them. "Because you opened your eyes while I was trying to humiliate you, and looked at me like I was your fucking savior."
"Logan…" It hurt to breathe. How had things become so intense?
He ran his fingers through his hair again. When he met Veronica's eyes, his own were glossy, as if holding back tears. "You looked right at me and said my eyes were like the universe."
"Well aren't I the poet?" Veronica rolled her eyes, hoping to lighten the mood.
"I think if I would have had a gun at that moment, I would have swallowed a bullet, just to get the fuck away from you."
Veronica felt as if the air had been vacuumed from her lungs. She snatched Logan's hand, and squeezed it in a death grip. "Don't ever say anything like that again."
He stared at the textured ceiling as if he were looking into the past. "It was like I'd done everything I could to break you. And not only were you unbroken, you still believed there was something good left in me. Like everything I'd done was for nothing and I would never be free."
How did I never realize you were filled with such self-loathing?
"Free from what?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"I don't even know. Whoever I used to be before Lilly died?"
"I really liked that guy."
He offered her a pained smile. "I know. Or I do now. Back then…I didn't want to have anything good left inside."
"Why?"
Logan shrugged, avoiding her eyes again. "Who wants to live in a world where good people are punished for no reason? If that's the case, what's the point? Why even try? Or hope?"
Words completely escaped her, so she simply squeezed his hand again.
"If I'm a bad person, or an asshole, or whatever, then I deserve to be punished. You know what I mean? Then, when the bad things happen…"
"You can blame yourself and feel like in some way, you influenced the outcome," she finished for him. "Then you have a small measure of power."
He looked at her directly, seemingly surprised by her understanding. "Yeah, exactly like that."
"So how long did the salt lick go on?"
Logan squeezed his eyes closed for a moment and inhaled. "Fuck! I'm an even bigger asshole for feeling sorry for myself when you were the one who was wronged. It only lasted a few minutes before Duncan came over and broke it up."
"Duncan? " She couldn't keep the surprise out of her voice. "He actually acknowledged my existence?"
"Yeah, and I hated him too in that moment. I mean, not really. But..."
"But what?"
"I just didn't get it. All those months of acting like the injured party, and then suddenly he wanted to play the white knight for you again?"
Veronica shook her head. Who knew what Duncan was thinking half the time?
"I hated him. And then I felt so guilty for hating my best friend. He'd been so miserable. Hadn't smiled since Lilly's death. So you wouldn't believe what I did."
A knot formed in her throat. "What?"
"I dosed him."
Veronica froze. "You did what?"
He can't really be saying what I think he's saying.
Logan looked miserable again. "I dosed my best friend. I picked up a drink, and poured a dose of GHB in it. I thought if I could just make him smile again…"
"You dosed Duncan." she repeated, numbly. "Are you sure that he drank the drink himself?"
"Yeah. I watched him drink it."
"Who else did you dose, Logan?"
Logan glanced up, surprised by the ice in her voice. "Believe it or not, Veronica, I don't make a habit of drugging my friends. That was the first time ever. And the last."
He tugged the ends of his sleeves down over his knuckles. "I ended up taking home this freshman named Cindy." He spared a guilty glance at Veronica, and it seemed like a year since their conversation by the tree where she'd asked him to stop rubbing other girls in her face. "But I couldn't stop thinking about it all night. When I wasn't thinking about what I did to you, that is. What if Duncan had tried to drive home fucked up? I could have gotten him killed. You know?"
She nodded. "Why did you have GHB anyway?"
"It's Liquid X. Ecstasy. We picked it up in TJ. We were supposed to go to this rave in the desert, but it ended up being cancelled."
"And you used it all up on Duncan?"
"No." He shook his head. "I didn't need it anymore, so I gave the other vial to that asshole - what's his name – Thad Wilson?"
"We?" She backtracked to his earlier comment. "Who was there when you bought these drugs?"
"Me, Luke Haldeman and Sean Friedrich. We all bought some."
"Did they still have their drugs at the party?"
"I don't know. Why?"
"Just curious."
Logan looked at her doubtfully, and she worried that she may have overplayed her hand. She was not ready to discuss her rape. Wasn't sure if she ever would be.
"Actually, now that I think about it, I ran into Luke when I was leaving, and he was ranting something about Madison being a raging bitch even after he'd given his GHB to her and Dick."
Madison? Did she drug me? Why would she do that?
"Veronica, I am so very sorry we did that to you. I would do anything in the world to take it back."
Logan had been a complete asshole that night, but Veronica felt with a near certainty that he hadn't been the one to rape her. He obviously had no idea what had happened to her.
"I believe you. And I forgive you. I'm going to choose to think of it as a not-real thing"
Logan squeezed his eyes closed in relief, and Veronica leaned into him, wrapping one of her arms around his back. With her free hand, she took another sip of champagne.
Thad Wilson. Scumbag asshole. Had he been the one who raped her? Or was it Sean Friedrich? Another asshole, but she'd always thought he was gay. Luke Haldeman didn't seem aggressive, but you could never tell, and Dick was a definite possibility, depending on whether he or Madison had possession of the drugs.
Logan held out a hand for the champagne bottle, and took a long chug when she handed it to him. She watched his Adam's apple as he swallowed.
"I don't deserve your forgiveness," he said, in a quiet voice. "I knew how you felt about it."
She wished he would drop it already.
He wasn't that asshole anymore. He was the guy who'd thrown away everything in his life to keep her and Duncan safe. The guy who'd stood between her and the Fitzpatricks at least three times. The guy who'd held her every night to keep the nightmares away. He was…amazing.
She didn't want to remember that other guy. The kind of guy who would dose his best friend and use her as a salt lick. It made her uncomfortable to remember him that side of him, so she would rather forget about it altogether than to discuss it anymore.
She scooted over to face him again, kneeling and sitting back on her heels.
"Well, you have my forgiveness anyway. Do you regret what you did?"
"You know I do." He was still hugging his knees, but sighed and straightened each leg out in a vee shape around Veronica.
"Will you ever do something like that again?"
"Never." He shook his head.
"Thank you for coming clean. It had to be hard to do that."
"Quit worrying about me. All that matters is how you feel."
"Okay. Well how I feel is that I want to drop the subject."
She wrapped her arms around Logan burying her face in his shoulder. Her cheek pressed against the smooth skin of his neck and she inhaled his clean scent.
He squeezed her back tightly, and she shifted onto her left hip, allowing her to lean against his chest.
Logan lifted the bottom hem of her dress and ran his thumb over the tulle underskirt. "What's wrong with your dress? It feels like one of those pot scrubber things"
"You've never scrubbed a pot in your life, and it's the netting to make the skirt stick out. It's itchy and torturous," Veronica said.
"So...we're okay?" he asked after a moment.
"Yeah..." She pressed a kiss to his cheek. "We're okay."
"And you're okay?"
"I'm fine. I'm glad we had this conversation." She took the bottle from his hand, taking a small swig.
"Me too. I guess confession is good for the soul"
"You have a soul?" Veronica joked.
He touched his forehead to hers again. "You're cute."
"I know."
He pulled back to stare into her eyes. "I'll make it up to you. I promise. Everything. Not just Shelly's party."
"You saved my life. That's a good start."
"We're far from even, though. How can I make things up to you?"
She smirked. "I'll think of something."
"You want that massage you didn't actually win, huh?" Both hands moved to rest lightly on her hips.
"Another day. You want that kiss you did win?"
Logan flashed a smug grin. "Another day."
Damn him.
Stubborn boy.
She still wanted to kiss him. Ever since she'd pressed her lips to the pulse in his neck on the dance floor, she hadn't been able to stop thinking about if for more than a few minutes at a time.
She hugged him again, pressing her right cheek against his left.
Now, if I just pull back a millimeter at a time, in a moment our lips will be so close that…
She hadn't noticed Logan's hands surreptitiously moving to her waist, until he curled his fingers and…tickled her under the ribs.
Veronica let out a scream and leaped off the bed. "Oh, it is so on!"
Logan rolled off the other side, leaving the bed in between them. He beckoned at her with both hands. "Bring it."
Duncan – Day Seven – Bluebell, Alabama – Whippoorwill Blossom Inn
"So should I be naked or something?" Annabeth asked in her soft drawl.
Duncan froze. "Naked?" He swallowed hard.
"Well...I just thought you must be accustomed to nude models – being in art school and all."
"Oh. Right. Art school." He let out the breath he was holding, and used the side of his thumb to smudge the stray mark on his sketch pad where his pencil had slipped at her question. "No, you're fine as you are. I'm sketching you from the neck up."
"Well that's a relief," Annabeth said with a nervous laugh. "I would have tried to brave it out, but…"
He finished the outline of her face, and sketched a few guidelines for the positioning of her features.
"I would never ask you to do something you weren't comfortable with."
Never. As if there might be future opportunities for being gentlemanly.
Duncan nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of a loud bang on the wall.
"Is that your sister?" Annabeth asked.
You don't know the half of it. "That's her room."
More banging. Loud shrieking laughs and running feet.
"Are they always that noisy?"
It's been several years, but I think I recognize those sounds.
"They're having a tickle fight. They used to do that all the time."
"At one in the morning?"
Duncan shrugged. "They've had a lot to drink. What? Why are you smiling?"
Annabeth shook her head. "It's sweet. Having that much fun together is a good sign for a healthy marriage."
Marriage?
Oh yeah, the ever-changing cover story.
Was Annabeth on to something?
Back when he'd dated Veronica, they'd never played like kids. She was small and delicate, and he'd been afraid of breaking her.
He'd always cringed and winced when Logan hadn't treated her with the same kid gloves, thinking nothing of wrestling with her or tossing her into the pool.
Tonight, however, at the pond, Duncan had played with Annabeth. He couldn't think of a time since…ever…when he'd let himself go like that.
Maybe that was another sign that he should stay. In this town. With this girl.
He roughly sketched Annabeth's features, while she filled him in on her background. High school. Her lifelong friendship with Lemon Breeland. Her long term relationship with the unworthy Jake Nass. Coming in as runner-up to Lemon in the Miss Cider Cinnamon Pageant.
He tried envisioning his own life in Bluebell.
He'd never really cared about money or material possessions, and the seven thousand they'd withdrawn from his account before leaving town should be enough to rent a studio apartment for a few months.
I have no job skills, but maybe I could bag groceries, or deliver pizzas.
Or I could learn a skill through some kind of apprenticeship.
He imagined the alternative - continuing on with Logan and Veronica. The yacht idea was only temporary because eventually, Aaron would want to use his boat. All three of them needed to find jobs before coming up with a more permanent solution.
Could he live in such tight quarters with his ex-girlfriend/sister who he still loved but could never again touch? Could he deal with their near constant squabbles when they never allowed him to referee?
On the other hand, Annabeth just didn't seem like the type to invite drama into her life. Her calm presence soothed him.
More bangs and shrieks – Logan this time – came from the room next store, and Duncan couldn't help but snort with laughter.
Logan – Day Seven – Bluebell, Alabama – Whippoorwill Blossom Inn
"Now who's in control?" Veronica straddled Logan's hips, scowling down like a tiny conquering warrior.
"I'm peeing my pants in terror."
"Don't underestimate me, punk." She yanked his right arm to his side, kneeling on the forearm, as she already was for the left one. "I've been described in some parts as pretty fierce."
And that's what I love most about you.
"I think I remember the guy who said that. Tall? Devastatingly good looking?"
"Mostly arrogant."
Convinced she had him pinned, Veronica launched her tickle assault on his ribs.
Thing was…Logan didn't have a ticklish bone in his body. After a lifetime of withstanding discomfort, he was a pro and controlling his body's responses. But that was one secret Veronica would never know. As far as she was concerned, he was exceptionally ticklish.
His laughter wasn't entirely faked, either. The sight of Veronica's trademark determined expression – biting down on her lower lip – had always been enough material enough for the laughing fits he'd put on for her and Lilly.
Or maybe I was afraid she would stop rolling around with me if she knew it wasn't having any effect on me. Not the kind she was aiming for at least.
Tickle fights were serious business to Veronica. Though she lacked brute strength, she was strong for her size, and more than made up the difference with trickery and use of leverage.
So he writhed and giggled and put on a convincing performance of trying to escape her flying fingers for several minutes before using his greater strength to flip her onto her back.
He captured both wrists with one hand above her head, careful not to squeeze too tightly in deference to her experience with Fitzpatrick.
"My turn!"
Veronica's eyes widened at her predicament, and her last words were "You will wish you'd never been born", before he began tickling her mercilessly.
He was well acquainted with her M.O. – twisting and squirming, trying to wiggle a knee up between their bodies, hooking her leg around his in an attempt to flip him, and – the worst – pressing her thumbs to the tender area on the inside of his wrist. He let her get away with all of it. This was her game.
Veronica laughed hysterically, finally relenting and begging for mercy.
"You give?"
She put up a bit more resistance before narrowing her eyes at him. "Fine. I give."
This was to be expected, also. Veronica was notorious for playing possum. Claiming she'd had enough until the moment you lowered your guard.
Logan climbed off and stretched out, curling up against her side and resting his head on her bare shoulder. Her skin was soft on his cheek and still smelled faintly of something sweet.
He savored the quiet moment, remaining still and listening as her breathing slowed back to normal.
"I've missed this." He tilted his face to meet her eyes. "When did we stop playing this way?"
When she started dating Duncan and suppressing her real personality.
Her shoulder lifted under his face, in what he assumed was a shrug. "When we started getting our grown-up parts?"
Logan hooked a finger in Veronica's neckline, pretending to peek down the front of her dress. "Veronica, I hate to break it to you, but…"
"You ass!" Veronica yelled, shoving Logan over onto his back and straddling him again. "Now you're really going to suffer."
"I am suffering!" he protested. "Your dress is a Brillo pad making a thousand little scratches on my delicate, privileged, skin."
"Try having to wear it, Jackass. In fact, I'm done." Veronica climbed out of bed and proceeded to stagger around the room trying to pull her dress over her head, and not giving a damn that she was exposing her underwear.
Logan's jaw went slack. "Veronica, what the hell are you doing?"
"Fertility dance?" She peeked over the material. "What do you think I'm doing? Trying to get this itchy dress off. Forgive my lack of modesty, but since we don't have a bathroom in our room…"
Logan jumped up. "Hey! Stay still before you trip and hurt yourself." He put a hand on her shoulder to steady her, and used the other to work the stuck zipper, helping Veronica shimmy the garment over her head, and draping it neatly on the dresser.
Veronica's padded strapless bra was white with tiny embroidered roses and matching underwear. The perfect mix of innocence and sexiness – old Veronica plus new. Impulsively, he placed the fedora on her head.
He intended to sit back down on the bed, but it was more like falling. Her perfection made it impossible to breathe.
"Marry me," he said quietly, repeating the first words he'd ever spoken to her.
"Ask me again in…" Veronica began, according to script. She glanced at her hand, and then inhaled. "Logan! My ring! I mean...your mom's ring. It's not here."
"Relax." Logan stood, reaching for his jeans and pulling the ring from the pocket where he'd stashed it earlier. "See? It's right here."
"Oh, thank god." She let out the breath she'd been holding.
On a whim, Logan dropped to his knees in front of Veronica, reaching for her left hand. Looking up into her eyes, he slid the diamond onto her finger.
"Will you marry me, Victoria Marshall?"
He was only having fun – play acting – but still, something fluttered deep inside him.
They were young, still not much more than children, but somehow the idea of attaching himself permanently to Veronica didn't seem like too horrible a prospect.
If she would only give me a chance.
Veronica gasped and brought her free hand to her heart in exaggerated shock. "Oh Nolan! Do you really mean it?" She slipped into her ditzy girl persona.
Logan nodded, a slow smile creeping across his face.
"Yes! Yes! Yes!" She bounced on her toes. "Of course I'll marry you, Nolan!"
He snickered at her overacting.
"We'll have a June Wedding! Some place huge to accommodate all of my close friends from the yacht club. I'll wear white, and hell, you can wear white, too! And my plastic surgeon dad can walk me down the aisle," she continued in a breathless ramble.
"You can offer nose jobs as wedding favors!" Logan said. "Since mine was so successful."
"I love the way you think. That way, all our wedding photos will be absolutely perfect."
Logan squeezed her hand. "Anything for you, Bridezilla."
Most of her bruising had faded by now, but one large black and blue mark on her right ribcage remained. He winced and hovered his fingertip over it. "Does it still hurt?"
"Barely. Maybe it's a bit tender."
He leaned in, pressing his lips softly to the discoloration, and then looked up into her eyes.
He still couldn't believe Liam Fitzpatrick had hurt her right in front of him, and he'd been powerless to stop the jacked up meth head.
Veronica must have seen the guilt in his eyes, because she stroked his hair and stared down at him compassionately.
I'll kill that fucker before he ever hurts you again.
Their vehicle should be ready around 11:30 or so tomorrow morning. He would make sure they were doubly careful once they were back on the road again.
"So hey, we just got engaged," Veronica said with a soft smile. "Isn't it tradition for us to kiss now?"
If this were real, we'd probably do a lot more than kiss.
He glanced around the room and then back up at Veronica with a sad expression. "Sorry, no cops here. Now put some clothes on."
Logan stood, kissed her cheek, and flopped dramatically on the bed, reaching for the champagne bottle and taking a long gulp.
Cheap, but it does the job.
"We really need to coach Duncan on his lying skills," Veronica said, fiddling with something inside her bag. "The plastic surgeon thing was only the beginning of his spiral of lies tonight."
"I think he gets a cheap thrill making up stories."
"Guess it's better than a drag racing."
Logan propped himself up with one of the pillows and snatched a chocolate covered strawberry.
Guilt niggled at him for taking a second one. These were his mother's favorites, but she only ever allowed herself one. 'Have to keep my figure for my auditions' she always said. He wished she could experience as much pleasure from food as Veronica did. He wished she would find a career that wouldn't make her so miserable.
And a man that wouldn't make her so miserable, while she's at it.
An old clock radio sat on the nightstand, and Logan switched on the FM radio, fiddling with the dial. He bypassed a handful of country and religious songs, before finally settling on a channel playing Radiohead's 'Creep'.
"That's not the underwear I set out for you last night before I put our bags in the truck."
They are so much hotter.
"Nope. They're new. Strapless dresses require strapless bras, and the bra came with the undies." Veronica turned around searching the room with her eyes, and her underwear – Lilly used to call them boy shorts – cut horizontally, exposing the bottom third of her butt.
Logan's dick twitched, and he crossed his legs to hide it. "You'd better cover that ass, or I'm gonna bite it."
Veronica glanced at him over her shoulder. "Of all the threats you could make, including grabbing, fondling, and groping, you choose to go with biting?"
"What can I say? I like to use my teeth." Logan made an audible biting gesture at her.
"I know. I saw your sex tape."
Still can't believe that happened. Fucking Dad!
"Was that your favorite part?" he asked – opting for flattery over embarrassment and fully prepared for her to blow him off like the last several times the subject came up.
Veronica turned back, a faint smirk on her lips, and looked him straight in the eyes. "Yes."
Fuck.
FUCK!
Logan bit his lip to stifle a groan. Crossing his legs wasn't going to work anymore, so he grabbed the second pillow and shoved it on his lap.
It has to be Heat Wave Fever. Alcohol makes her affectionate, but not brazen.
Veronica sighed and flopped onto bed next to him, her forearm over her eyes. "Our bags are still in the truck. I have nothing to wear."
"Then put that dress back on." Logan said.
PLEASE put the dress back on.
"You wear it. It's torture." She rubbed at invisible scratches on the front of her thigh.
No, THIS is torture.
"What about the tee shirt and shorts you had on earlier?"
Is she doing this on purpose?
"Left them in the truck."
"You were in the truck and didn't get our stuff?" So…premeditated torture?
Veronica frowned. "The garage was closed. Lemon called and demanded that Rusty come back and unlock it – she's a force of nature, by the way – so I just grabbed the shoes and skedaddled so that he could get back to his evening."
"Well, you can't sleep in your underwear."
"They're boy shorts and you sleep in your underwear every night. Besides, it's nothing you haven't seen before. A few times."
"Yeah, but not like this. Not in bed, where I can touch you."
The song ended and a stripped down cover of 'Wonderwall' came on the radio. He tilted his head, unfamiliar with this version.
"Ryan Adams," Veronica supplied.
"Oh."
Ever since he'd cleaned her wounds from Liam, he hadn't stopped thinking about the way she'd reacted to his touch – as if she hadn't been touched in years.
Fuck! I'm going touch her now.
Logan rolled onto his side, keeping the pillow between them, and skimmed three fingers over her bare belly.
Her skin was butter soft, and her abdominal muscles contracted under the pads of his fingers.
Maybe it was the dreamy expression on her face, maybe the languid quality of the music, the champagne, or maybe even heat wave fever, but everything felt surreal.
"What are you doing?" Her voice was powder soft.
Torturing myself?
Torturing you?
He propped himself up with his elbow, a tiny smile on his lips. "I love watching you shiver when I touch you."
"Ego boost? Cause no girl can resist your magic hands?"
"Don't be ridiculous. It's all about you."
He outlined her ribs and circled her belly button with the pads of his fingers, and Veronica responded to every touch with faint tremors.
"Is this okay?"
Other than one barely perceptible nod, she remained still, gaze locked on his and skin gleaming in the glow from the bedside table lamp. "Is that glitter?" He asked, tapping her shoulder.
"Body lotion. Has a hint of shimmer."
"I like it. Is that where the marshmallow smell comes from?" He pressed his lips to her nearest shoulder and gently massaged the other one for a moment before moving on, stroking her neck, her sternum, exploring the hollows of her collarbone.
"Uh-huh."
Another examination of her face showed no indication she wanted him to stop touching her, so he allowed his fingers to drift lower to the lacy edging of her bra.
Veronica's breathing quickened, and her chest lifted and fell. She closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip as he traced along the edge of the fabric over the small swells of her breasts.
You're playing with fire, dude. Don't do something stupid.
Logan exhaled hard and moved his hand back to the (relative) safety of her stomach.
Nobody had ever responded to his touch like this before, and his 'magic fingers' had nothing – or very little – to do with it.
They'd all four been 'touchers' back before everything went to hell. Lilly and Veronica always huddled together, laughing and whispering. The wrestling and tickle fights. Squeezing onto the small poolhouse couch to watch movies, legs tangled and elbows in inconvenient places. Puppy piles and group hugs.
Touching had been an integral part of Veronica's life.
Until it wasn't anymore. Until the day it was all gone. Duncan iced over, Lilly died, Logan himself turned enemy, and her mother bailing in the middle of the night.
And nobody touched Veronica anymore.
Well, Mr. Mars probably still did, but he was always out of town or working late hours. Logan knew, because he'd kept tabs on her.
She hadn't dated after Duncan until last week when she'd gone out with Vandegraff. She didn't even have any friends until she'd met that Wally dude. She'd been utterly alone.
And I'm partially responsible.
His stomach knotted up with guilt. "I am so sorry," he whispered.
Veronica opened her eyes. "Don't be. I told you it's okay."
He didn't correct her assumption. Simply skimmed his fingers along the inside curve of her waist, causing her to tremble.
She'd admitted back in Arizona that Duncan had never taken it further than kissing, which seemed crazy knowing what he knew now. With a girl as passionate as Veronica, Duncan must have exerted all his will into making things not happen.
"Duncan is a fucking idiot," he said, barely recognizing his own voice.
I sound like a twelve year old.
"Why?" Hers wasn't sounding very Veronica-like either.
"If you were mine, I would never want to take my hands off of you."
Veronica stared at him with heavy-lidded eyes, chest rising and falling with each breath, lips parting just enough that he could glimpse gleaming white teeth.
Hell, maybe you are mine.
He still had no idea where they stood after tonight. Or…he knew where he stood. He'd taken a leap of faith, passing up temporary gratification with Chessie for the tiniest chance of creating something meaningful with Veronica.
She, on the other hand, had pretty much confirmed that she felt something for him.
But on a scale of mild interest to all-consuming passion, that 'something' could fall anywhere in between.
He gauged her reaction as he touched her left knee. Far from objecting, she slid her heel up the mattress until her knee was bent, and shifted slightly onto her right hip, angling towards him.
Logan's fingers trailed up the outside of her thigh to her hip and Veronica shivered uncontrollably, closing her eyes and arching her neck.
He ran his thumb over one of the tiny embroidered rosebuds on her hip. Scratched at another one with the edge of his fingernail.
Veronica's second knee lifted, pale thigh gliding across the first before stretching out flat again.
I bet I could make her come simply by playing connect the dots.
Fuck! She's going to feel my hard- on right through the pillow.
"I have to go…" he said, snatching his hand back. "…take a shower. And stuff."
"Don't leave me alone tonight." Veronica grabbed his wrist, her eyes imploring. "Can't you take one in the morning?"
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
"Okay." He exhaled. "Sure."
She smiled in relief and relaxed, pressing her shoulder blades into the mattress in a not-so-subtle invitation to touch her again.
Logan swallowed hard and jerked his gaze away from her breasts.
Is there anywhere safe to look?
Dammit!
"Up, Veronica."
"Huh?"
Logan rolled onto his knees, tugging Veronica's hand to pull her up as well.
"What are you doing?"
"Something I'm sure I'll regret."
She arched an eyebrow.
"If I'm going to stay in the room right now, you need clothing." He sat back on his heels, and reached over his shoulder, tugging his black henley off in a single motion. "You can wear this." He held out the shirt, and pulled part of the blanket over his lap for camouflage.
Veronica's eyes widened, sweeping over his chest and abs with an approving glint.
Instead of taking the shirt, she threw her arms around his neck and pressed tightly against him.
Bare skin touched bare skin in way too many places – legs, bellies, chests. Warm, bare skin.
Fuck. My. Life.
"Veronica?" He choked out. "What are you doing?" Not sure where to place his hands, he settled on grasping his own forearms against her lower back.
No. That is NOT a lead pipe in my pocket. Why aren't you pulling away in disgust?
"Hugging you," she said. "Why not? We're friends."
Friends. Right.
Of course she's curious. She's never been undressed with a mostly naked guy before. Why wouldn't she be curious to feel skin on skin?
Her cheek pressed to his upper chest, shallow breaths tickling his flesh, as her fingers drew circles on the small of his back.
Logan squeezed his eyes closed, buried his face in coconut scented hair and prayed for this to end.
Sooner, rather than later.
Or…never would be good, too.
He searched his brain for unappealing images. Naked grandmothers. Fiery car crashes. Anything to take his mind off his erection and its proximity to Veronica's body.
She stirred, and he dropped his arms heavily to his sides, but instead of releasing him, Veronica held tight, lifting her face to his neck. Soft lips pressed to his neck once, twice, three times. She kissed his skin again. Open mouthed and wet.
Logan inhaled sharply.
Fuck it. She's not afraid of my cock, why should I be?
He couldn't not touch her anymore. Up and down her spine. Under her bra strap, over her shoulders, the side of her breast, neck and hair and legs.
He curled his hands around the back of her smooth thighs and at her rough intake of breath – God help him – slid them over her ass, gripping and pulling her hips snugly against his.
Veronica let out a quiet moan and clutched him more tightly.
She's going to kill me.
"Veronica?"
"Hmmm?"
"This isn't a hug."
She laughed, slid her hands over his own ass, and squeezed.
Logan jerked away as if burned, yanking the pillow back in front of his lap.
Veronica smirked at him. "Grandfathered," she said, tilting her head and raising one eyebrow.
Funny. Real funny.
"I am going to fuck you so hard someday," he promised. "After you get around to seducing me."
"Still on that kick?" Veronica faked a yawn. "You can't possibly believe I'll ever do that."
"I'm pretty sure you're doing that right now. Or trying to. Alright drunk girl, hands up."
"Why?"
"To put this on." He wiggled the shirt at her in reminder.
Veronica sighed and lifted both of her arms over her head, a position that displayed her cleavage enticingly.
"Fuck me!" he muttered, snatching the fedora off her head and tossing it to the nightstand, before maneuvering the material over her head.
She slipped her hands through the sleeves and blew a loose strand of hair off her face before glancing down at the Henley. "You looked nice tonight. I always liked you best in black."
He couldn't hold back the smug grin. "I know."
Veronica pushed up her overlong sleeves, but they slipped right back down again, sized for much thicker arms than her own.
"Here," Logan said, placing her hand on the pillow and going to work rolling up her sleeves.
"How do you know?"
Logan paused to tilt his head in question. "How much have you had to drink? You have to remember the Great Logan Debate of '02. Where you and Lilly decided I wasn't qualified to dress myself." Five rolls, and the sleeves – although bulky – managed to stay up on her forearms.
"When we dragged you to Nordstrom's and made you try on a bunch of clothes?"
"Yeah. Lilly tried to dress me in oranges and greens, and you kept trying to steer me to black or white."
"I remember you working it like Zoolander, and the salespeople hiding their laughter because they weren't sure if you actually were that arrogant." Veronica laughed at the memory. "Is this one of the shirts you bought that day?"
Logan nodded. "Lots of guys are dressed by their girlfriends, but not so many guys can claim to be dressed by their best friend's girlfriend."
She smiled softly. "Now that I think about it, you've been wearing a lot more black lately. Is that on purpose?"
Logan looked down at his hands, slightly embarrassed because – although they'd been enemies upon leaving Neptune a week ago – he had still packed his suitcase with her preferences in mind. "Maybe." He flopped back down on the pillow and stretched out.
Damn. Please don't notice the tent in my boxers.
Before she had the chance to, he snatched her hand and pulled her down onto his chest.
She landed with a small laugh, and lifted up to look at his face.
"You look good in black, too," Logan said.
"Thank you."
"But you know what you look better in?" He rolled onto his left side, bringing her with him so they were still face to face.
"Hmm…?"
He slipped his hand under her shirt, squeezing her bottom, and she breathed in sharply.
"White." He kissed her forehead. "With." Kissed her chin. "Tiny." Kissed her cheek. "Rosebuds." He finished with a kiss to the tip of her nose.
Veronica smiled, and grabbed a handful of his own butt.
She laughed at his hard inhale. "If you get grabby, then I can get grabby."
"I'm sorry." He moved his hand to her upper back. "I'll be a perfect gentleman."
"Please don't."
Their eyes met, and Logan was the one to look away.
He pulled her closer, nuzzling her neck, and she made a happy little humming sound.
Quietly, she asked, "Can I touch you too?"
"God, yes. Any time."
Veronica's hand lifted, tentatively touching his chest. When nothing disastrous happened, she became emboldened, fingers splaying, gliding over his skin.
"How come you don't shiver when I touch you?"
Same reason I'm not ticklish. Thanks, Dad.
"Touch me a little lower and I'll get all kinds of shivery." He waggled his eyebrows.
"Perv!" Veronica rolled her eyes and shoved at his chest.
Logan snickered, and brought his forehead down to touch hers. "I'm conditioned to being touched."
Her smile faded, and she broke off eye contact.
Fuck. Get it through your head, dumbass. She doesn't want to hear about other girls.
He touched her cheek. "By all the wrong people."
"Man whore."
"Yeah," he agreed, quietly. "But I don't want to be anymore."
Veronica's eyes followed the path of her hand over the curve of his shoulder. "Logan Echolls, a monk? I'll believe it when I see it."
"You're a comedian. What I'm saying is that one girl is enough for me." The right girl. "And hey, even if I don't shiver, it still feels amazing to be touched by you?"
"Amazing?" Her grin returned. "How about this?" Her hand circled around to his back, thumbing each knob of his spine.
"Better than amazing." He closed his eyes, running his fingers through her silky hair, and inched even closer so their noses nearly touched.
"And this?" She whispered and traced the edges of his shoulder blades.
"So good."
Logan edged his knee forward – between hers – and within moments, their legs were tangled and their hips were flush.
Fuck!
Too damn close!
She was burning hot between her thighs and he let out a moan when they squeezed down on his leg.
Veronica snickered. "What?"
Nothing. Just having inappropriate thoughts about your inner thigh muscles and all the ways they could squeeze me.
"This is wrong, Veronica," he said unconvincingly.
"Hugging my oldest friend?"
"Hugging?" He snorted. "We're still calling this hugging?"
"What do you call it?"
Masochism. "I can't be sure, but it feels a lot more like making out."
"Making out?" she scoffed. "We haven't even kissed."
"Whatever you want to believe, Veronica."
A scratch on the back of his calf reminded him that she was still wearing her shoes. He rolled away and sat up, running a hand over his face.
Logan grabbed the bottle from the nightstand and took a sip of champagne, then handed the glass bottle to Veronica, and crawled to the bottom of the bed.
"If you're trying to seduce me," he said with a lift of his eyebrows, "You should probably keep wearing heels to bed."
Veronica sipped from the bottle and stared at him while he unbuckled the ankle strap from her left shoe, tossing it to the floor and tickling his fingers over her sole.
"Ass," she laughed, nudging him in the gut with the toe of her other shoe.
Logan smiled, capturing her tiny foot and trapping it against him.
He took his time unbuckling the leather ankle strap, examining her face. She seemed content, almost playful.
She's still biding her time, waiting for my guard to be lowered.
The shoe thumped hitting the floor, and he pressed both thumbs into the bottom of her foot, rubbing and kneading until Veronica's eyes rolled back into her head and she made little sounds of pleasure.
God, she's so beautiful, it almost hurts.
"Okay, that's enough." He pressed a kiss to her instep and released her foot. "You'd have me doing that for hours if you had your way."
Veronica sighed tragically. "Well…now that you've lost your usefulness…"
She attacked. Both feet pressed to his sides, tickling him with her toes.
Logan giggled and squirmed and 'played ticklish' for several minutes, before pinning her legs to the mattress and pouncing on her.
"Hi." He grinned down at her.
Her lips stretched into a wide, flirtatious smile. "Hi."
Disarmed by her grin, Logan found himself being rolled onto his back and straddled by Veronica.
So much for getting my junk under control.
She grasped his wrists tightly and held them to his side. "Haven't you ever learned? You can't beat me, Echolls."
"Dominant bitch," he said affectionately.
Veronica opened her mouth wide in indignation. "I'd punch you for that, but somehow, I think you meant it as a compliment."
"You should know me by now. I never could resist a bitchy woman."
"And dominant?"
He raised an eyebrow and nodded towards her body. "Well, you obviously like being on top." Her knees were close enough that he could just reach them from where his wrists were being held down. He spread his fingers wide, curling them around the fronts, and rubbed small semi-circles with his thumbs. "And it's really fucking hot."
Veronica smiled and loosened her hold. "You think I'm hot?"
He rolled his eyes. "Are you seriously asking me that? How could you even ask that? I'm as hard as titanium for fuck's sake."
She didn't blush - she nearly never did anymore - simply glanced away, staring at a framed floral print on the wall that was far too mediocre for such an intense inspection.
She's probably doing multiplication tables or something in her head to keep her composure.
"For the record…" he said, tugging his wrists free from her grasp. "I, Logan Echolls think you, Veronica Mars are super-hot." His hands crawled slowly up the front of her thighs, gently massaging her smooth flesh with his fingertips. "I thought so when we were twelve, I think so now, and I'll probably think so when we're eighty-five."
Veronica's eyes - heavy lidded and dazed - tracked the moment of his hands on her legs, her chest rising and falling in time with her labored breathing.
"You're hot in your wigs and your colored contacts. Long hair. Short hair. Blonde. Brunette. Black hair. I don't trust myself to even think about how you looked in your plaid skirt and knee socks, because every time I do, I get painfully hard. Does that answer your question?"
Veronica seemed to shake herself out of her daze. She lifted her eyes to the ceiling and tapped her chin as if debating her answer. "Actually, it doesn't. I'm going to need you to spell it out a little more clearly."
She smiled then - cocky and challenging - and Logan found himself mirroring the expression. His heart fluttered, and his pulse raced.
She is so perfect for me. We'll never be bored. If there's ever an 'us'.
He smoothed his palms around the outside of her legs, gently squeezing the back of her thighs.
Veronica exhaled sharply, and leaned forward. Her hands came down on either side of his face, and her short hair momentarily grazed his cheek as she shifted her weight and pressed her face into his neck.
"You. Are. So. Fucking. Hot." Logan whispered in her ear, catching her earlobe between his teeth.
Veronica's responded with a whimper and, surprising even him, rocked herself against him.
His vision flashed white, and it seemed like somebody else's hands cupping her ass and dragging her across his erection again as his hips lifted to meet her halfway.
They both moaned.
Veronica rocked again, and for a minute, Logan lost his mind as they pushed/pulled against each other feverishly. He was sitting up – trying to find her mouth – when he came to his senses.
What the hell am I doing?
Instead, he ducked his head, pressing his face into her shoulder. Wrapped both arms around her back and hugged tightly.
He remained in that position, heart pounding, pulse leaping out of his throat, chest heaving in synch with Veronica's.
It's never been like this before.
As much as he'd loved Lilly – as fiery and passionate as they'd been – things had never been this intense. Maybe because they'd never had to practice restraint, or maybe because she liked to keep sex separate from emotions. But emotions were in full effect tonight, and he was trying his damndest to exercise restraint.
Without thinking, Logan gently bit down on her shoulder, and she responded by gasping and grinding down on him again. His arms tightened, holding her still, and he pulled back to look at her.
"If you keep that up, one – or both – of us are going to end up getting off."
Veronica glanced at his lips. "Sounds delightful."
The air whooshed out of his lungs. Jesus Fucking Christ.
"So...if you have an orgasm rubbing yourself on my dick, how can you keep lying to yourself in the morning?"
"Lying about what?"
"That you're not attracted to me."
"Who's lying? I've never denied being attracted to you."
All prepared to make his next point, he had to pause. "Wait...What?"
She glanced up as if reciting something she'd thought about before. "I mean there's nothing to be ashamed of. Something about your chemicals sets off something with my chemicals. Or pheromones, or something."
"You're trying to blame this on science?" he asked, incredulously.
"What do you call it?"
He dropped his gaze and mumbled, "Magic."
She snorted. "Magic? You're such a drama queen."
"Veronica, it's never been like this before. This is magic."
"Or maybe our pheromones are just stronger together," she said, and he could tell she was just busting his balls now.
Logan shook his head, sadly. "Ever the romantic."
"What does romance have to do with anything?" She grinned mischievously and kissed the corner of his mouth.
He leaned his forehead against hers. "This is so wrong."
She pulled back enough to look into his eyes. "Why is it so wrong? If we were already supposedly making out…" she brushed her fingers across his cheek, "then why don't we go ahead and…you know…actually make out?"
Logan swallowed hard. "Because we can't. Because this isn't you. This is Drunk Veronica. Or Heat Wave Fever Veronica."
Her eyes darkened. "Don't stop there, Logan. You forgot Inexperienced-Veronica, or Not-Lilly-Veronica."
What the fuck does Lilly have to do with anything?
Logan swept her soft hair off her forehead. "What I'm trying to say is – in addition to it being a dick move to take advantage of a drunk girl – Real Veronica would kick my ass in the morning if I allowed anything – even kissing – to happen tonight."
"But…"
"It's already going to be weird as fuck between us over…this…" He gestured to the way she was straddling his lap. "But at least nothing's actually happened that we can't take back."
Unless you count the dry humping, but it's not like we haven't done that before.
This was only a partial reason, though. His vow that she'd be the one to initiate their next kiss had been made out of hurt and anger. What happened outside of 7-Eleven had been the culmination of four years of fighting his desire to kiss her, and when she'd reacted by rejecting him, he'd been devastated. And had responded like a complete asshole.
He realized now, he'd made the right decision, but for the wrong reasons.
There was too much at stake to screw this up. If he wanted something real and lasting with Veronica – and he did more than anything – it needed to be a decision she made with a clear head. They needed each other for their very survival, so they didn't have the luxury of trial runs or walking away if things didn't work out. And they had to be sure they were solid before they risked alienating Duncan.
He needed to prevent any repeats of tonight as well. All of the suggestive talk, and touching, and trying to coax her into kissing him had to stop.
He was sure he could seduce her – he'd never met a girl he couldn't – but this choice needed to be made while sober and of sound mind. And he knew more than anyone how passion could impair judgment almost as much as alcohol. Things were too intense between them. His lips and his hands could not be allowed to make her decision for her.
He ducked his head to look into her eyes again. "Let's call this a 'to-be-continued'. We can pick back up once we're both sober, and you've acknowledged how crazy you are about me."
She rolled her eyes, but couldn't seem to suppress her amused grin.
He gently eased her off of him, and pulled back the bedding. "We should get some sleep."
"Okay." She moved to the top of the bed and slid between the sheets.
Logan reached behind him to the nightstand and turned off the radio and lights and then wrapped his arms around Veronica, snuggling close. Things were going to be super awkward between them in the morning, but at least he still had tonight.
He listened to her breathing, waiting for it to slow and deepen so he could slip away to the bathroom and deal with this painful erection.
Lord knows she's given me enough material tonight.
"Night NoLo."
NoLo? Oh, that ridiculous combination of Nolan/Logan she'd used to cover with Wide.
"Goodnight V. 'Till our next roller coaster ride."
She made a soft purr-like sound and snuggled closer.
"That's magic, by the way. That feeling of 'butterflies' you described earlier."
"Sci-ence." Veronica answered in a sing song voice.
Logan smiled. He mouthed a word in the dark. It wasn't 'magic'.
A/N - CORNY!
A/N2 - I wrote the L/V Bed and Breakfast scene (without the DK section) way back in July 2012 as an experiment to see how just far I could stretch UST before it became...R(esolved)ST? I never intended to publish it when I first wrote it, but could never quite convince myself to delete it, either. They've got a ways to go before they're both on the same page at the same time, so hopefully this will help tide you over until then?
A/N3 - As always, thank you so much to ShanghaiLily/HappilyShanghaied for her excellent beta job. Like Neptune, this has been over a period of several months.