Archive of Our Own

“Leo, it was so sweet of you to come tonight,” Veronica began, her voice laced with rejection, “and I hate to do this to you, but I really need to take Logan home. He's had a rough week and I don't think there's anyone else…” 

She trailed off as Leo shrugged. 

“No problem, Veronica. It's not quite how I pictured my night ending but you're a good friend.” His lips quirked up in a half-smile and he placed a kiss on her cheek before turning in the hallway and exiting the school building. 

Veronica sighed over what might have been and turned to Logan, still leaning drunk against the door to the girls restroom. She grabbed his arm, not wanting to get too close to the parts of him without clothing. 

“C’mon, Tom Cruise, let's go home.” 

“I don't wanna.” Logan tugged his arm out of Veronica's grasp, sounding like a petulant two-year old. 

“Okay.” Veronica was nothing if not quick on her feet. “We don't have to go home. Let's go...to the beach. Or get some ice cream?”

A toddler solution for a toddler problem. And bribery is always a good plan .

At that, Logan nodded and allowed her to lead him out to her car. 

Veronica kept up a steady stream of nervous chatter the whole way across the parking lot, explaining how she ended up at the dance and in this ridiculous dress. She wasn’t sure if Logan was listening or not but the urge to fill the silence was strong.

“In you go.” She opened the passenger door. “Buckle up!”

Buckle up? When did I turn into my dad? Why can't I stop talking?

She started the car and turned on the radio to keep herself from prattling on. What do you say to your former friend after you proved that his mom really did kill herself? “I'm sorry” doesn't really cover it. 

“No ice cream.” Logan blurted out. Veronica glanced over at him, pale and sweaty. “In fact, I need you to pull over. Right now.”

Veronica complied as Logan stumbled out of the car and threw up in the bushes along the side of the road. 

“Feel better?” She asked when he returned. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and nodded, getting back into the car. 

“Here, I have some water,” Veronica handed him a plastic bottle from the center console cup holder, “and maybe some mints.” She reached over Logan's sprawling frame and rummaged in the glove box. His leg hair tickled her arm and she quickly jerked back into her seat when she realized she was brushing against his thighs. 

“I guess not.” She gulped and resumed driving. The stillness stretched on, filled only by the sound of the radio. 

Veronica pulled into the parking lot overlooking the now-deserted Dog Beach. She put the car in park and turned off the engine. They sat, looking at the ocean through the windshield. 

“So….” She let her voice trail off. 

“Thanks, Veronica.” Logan was quiet, so quiet that she wasn't sure he had actually spoken. “For everything. Tonight, and with—with my mom.” His voice was low and thick with emotion. 

Veronica turned to him and grabbed his hand. 

“Logan, you have to know, I didn't want it to turn out this way.”

He nodded and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. A jolt of electricity ran through her at the contact. 

Okay, Veronica. Time to change the subject. Lighten the mood.

“To be honest, this is the most uncomfortable outfit I've ever worn.” She gave him a half-smile as she pulled her hand from his grasp and exited her car to rummage around in the trunk. Logan turned to look at her curiously. 

“Aha!” Veronica dangled a pair of sweatpants triumphantly and slammed the trunk shut. “No peeking!” 

She pointed her finger sternly at Logan and he obligingly covered his eyes. She shimmied out of her ridiculously itchy lace pantyhose and slipped into the black sweatpants. She let out a sigh of relief. 

“So much better.” She began rifling through her backseat as Logan peered through his fingers at her. 

“I know...there's a t-shirt...in here somewhere…” Veronica continued to toss debris around her backseat until she located a red tank top. “This will have to do.”

“What all do you get up to back there?” Logan quipped as he surveyed the contents of her very messy backseat. 

“Haha. Stakeouts, mostly.” Veronica was distracted trying to figure out how to extricate herself from her very uncomfortable ‘80s dress. 

Abruptly she asked Logan, “How drunk are you?” He raised an eyebrow in question. “Like, drunk enough to not remember this tomorrow? Because I'm not sure I can get out of this getup myself, but I'd prefer if you forget this moment later.” 

Veronica thought that holding him, sobbing, in her arms earlier would have earned her some discretion but with Logan, it was never guaranteed. This was new territory for them and she wasn’t sure where they stood anymore.

Logan nodded and opened his door. “I can be a gentleman. Is there a zipper or…?”

“Yeah, I think.” Veronica turned around and motioned to her back. “Meg got me in it earlier.” She was glad it was dark and she was facing away from Logan so he couldn't see the blush that graced her cheeks as his fingers brushed along her skin. 

I'm just going to blame the wind for those sudden goosebumps. Yeah, definitely the wind. 

She quickly threw her tank top over her dress and pulled the dress down her torso, all the while staying covered. She turned to find Logan's mouth slightly agape, gawking at her. She was regretting not wearing a bra under the corset dress, even an uncomfortable strapless one, and hoped her nipples weren't showing. 

“You peeked!”

His mouth snapped closed. “You know I've been peeking for years, Mars, spying on you and Lilly. I still haven't seen the goods, though. You're too sneaky for that.” 

The reminder of Lilly, of all the time they used to spend together, of the friendship they used to share, made Veronica feel like perhaps this past year never really happened. This could be her Logan again, her friend who she could trust. 

“Do you have any extra sweatpants in there? Extra large?” he asked, raising a brow.

“Um, doubtful.” Veronica narrowed her eyes. “The reputation of my backseat is greatly exaggerated. However…”

Holding up a finger, she began ransacking the LeBaron’s trunk again. “I do have this.” 

She tossed him a beach towel, only slightly sandy. Logan shrugged good-naturedly and wrapped it around his waist. 

“Wanna go sit?” Veronica gestured to the beach. 

“Nah, I'm pretty tired. Can you take me home?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Veronica tried to keep the disappointment from her voice as she slid back behind the wheel. She told herself to get over it, she was definitely not in any way upset to cut short her time with Logan. They had actually been having a nice moment, that was all. It threw her off her game but she couldn’t forget where things stood between them now, no matter how much she wanted it to be different. She couldn’t undo this past year. 

“Just one thing, first.” Veronica quickly removed her bangle earrings and tossed them in her cup holder with a sigh of relief. “Everything about that outfit was uncomfortable. I'm so glad life is not a non-stop ‘80s music video.”

“Aren't we all?” 

Grabbing a hair tie from the gearshift,  she tossed her crimped hair into a ponytail and took off. Logan leaned his head against the window, let his eyes drift closed as she drove through progressively nicer areas of town until they reached his neighborhood, the most expensive in the 09. Stately homes were replaced with McMansions, each tackier than the last, and manicured lawns stretched spaciously like green carpet. 

Someone with a decidedly less keen eye than hers might have thought that the Echolls estate was deserted. But she knew the signs, and the unmarked vans parked down the road were a dead giveaway. 

“Uh-oh. I have bad news for you, Logan.”

He startled awake from his light doze as Veronica drove past his house.

“Is it that you forgot where I live, Ronnie? Because that was it.” He pointed his thumb at the house behind them. 

“Yeah, but I can see reporters lurking in the bushes. You're drunk and not wearing pants. I'm not sure that's a good combination.” Mostly Veronica would rather not have this story splashed across the gossip pages, if only because she wasn't wearing a bra. “So Chez Mars for you it is.”

Logan opened his mouth to protest but apparently thought better of it. He merely nodded and closed his eyes, laying his head back against the car’s headrest. 

“Can I get you anything?” Veronica asked as she let him into the small apartment she shared with her dad. 

Logan glanced down at the towel he was still holding around his waist. “I'm really regretting my drunken decision to not wear pants.”

“Yeah….” Veronica’s mouth turned up wryly. “Although you might be in luck!” 

She bounced back to her bedroom and Logan followed. 

“I think Wallace left some shorts here.” She held out a pair of green and yellow athletic shorts, exclaiming, “Tada!” 

Logan’s eyebrows soared up to his hairline, questioning her virtue and mocking her choices all with one look. 

Veronica clutched the shorts tightly to her chest, her voice harsh with anger. 

“Don’t give me that look. It's not like that. Don't you dare…” She cleared her throat, trying to calm down. 

“Wallace left his gym bag here last week and I couldn't stand the smell so I washed his stuff. I just haven't gotten it back to him yet. It's not like that,” she repeated, loudly. 

“Okay, okay, Veronica.” Logan held up his hands in surrender. “I get it, I'm sorry.” 

Veronica studied his face, trying to decide if he was sincere. She tossed him the shorts, still glaring. He dropped his towel and Veronica looked away as he slipped them on, although she didn't know why. He was the one who had stalked around all night without pants. Still, it seemed like the respectful choice. 

“Go, Pirates,” Logan mumbled as he flopped back onto Veronica's bed. His eyes were closed. 

Veronica approached him and gently laid her hand on his forehead, willing herself not to stroke her thumb along his skin. 

“Hey, you feel okay?” 

His eyes popped open and he shook his head no. 

“I'm going to get you some water and some aspirin. Stay here,” she ordered. Logan's eyes slid closed again and she allowed herself to pat the top of his head. 

Like I’d pat Backup. Nothing wrong there . 

She bustled around her apartment, gathering supplies and trying to ignore the butterflies that had taken flight in her stomach at the sight of Logan in her bed. 

“Here.” She perched on the edge of her bed, handing him a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin. “Take these. And drink this.”

Logan sat up and complied, shaking out a hefty dose of aspirin and draining the water. 

“Thanks. Again. For everything.” He leaned back against the wall behind her bed, meeting her eyes. “I know I shouldn't drink so much... but I just can’t....” 

Shifting, he dropped his head into his hands and rested his elbows on his knees. 

“Logan…” His despair was heartbreaking. Veronica stood and cradled his head against her body for the second time that day. She ran her fingers through his hair soothingly and wished she had the words to say to make it all better. 

“Be my friend again, Veronica?” He spoke into her stomach, muffled, but his voice was urgent. 

“What?” Drunk Logan wasn't making sense anymore . Veronica had been hoping that he was starting to sober up. 

He pulled away and looked up at her, urgent. She sank down onto the bed next to him.

“There's just too much…. It was hard enough when Lilly…” his voice trailed off and he cleared his throat. “We were both pretty horrible to each other for a while there but I'm willing to get past it if you are.” 

He grabbed her hands and rubbed his thumbs over the backs of them as he spoke. 

“It takes a lot of energy to hate you and I'm tired of it. I like having you as my friend better.” He stared expectantly at her, looking like a small child in his faith that friendship conquers all. 

“Okay…” Veronica answered, cautious. She wanted to believe that Logan was sincere but it was hard to let go of her doubts. So much had happened between them…she tried to focus on all the good memories as she spoke. 

“I guess I've missed you as my friend, too. It’d be nice to not be enemies anymore. If you want.” She shrugged her shoulders like it wasn't a big deal but Logan gripped her hands tighter and the flippant look left her face. 

“God, I've missed you, Veronica. I'm so sorry for everything I did to you.” His eyes were earnest and sincere. He pulled her to him and crushed her against his chest. “I'm also really sorry you had to take care of my drunk ass tonight but I'm so thankful you did.” 

“That's what friends do.” Veronica's voice was muffled against his chest. “Are you starting to feel better?”

Logan nodded but didn't let go of her. 

“Do you want to go watch a movie?”

“No. Sleep now. With you.” Logan laid down on her bed and pulled her with him, setting her into his side and burying his nose into her hair. 

Veronica was stiff and tense and managed to roll away. “I thought maybe the couch…”

“Please don't leave me.” Logan mumbled, managing somehow not to sound whiny. 

With a sigh, she let herself relax and settle in next to him, remembering that just a few hours ago she had proven to him that his mom really was dead. 

Friends can cuddle, right? This is fine, no big deal.  

She inhaled his scent, a combination of aftershave, hair gel, alcohol, and boy. It made the butterflies swoop and dive in her belly again. 

Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Veronica. Might as well enjoy it.

Logan was very tactile and it's not like they hadn't curled up together on the couch before. She remembered sleeping in a pile like puppies with Lilly, Duncan, and Logan, limbs tangled together on the couch in the Echolls media room. This would be no different. Well, except it was just her and Logan….

As Logan began to softly snore she allowed herself to close her eyes, breathe in Logan's scent deeply, and drift off to sleep. 

Veronica woke up seriously disoriented the next morning. She was in her own bed but what was she laying on? She inhaled. 

She knew that yummy smell. Logan. She hadn't slept that deeply for months (or longer?) and she realized her head was pillowed on his firm chest, his arms wrapped around her. 

As she began to stir, Logan's eyes popped open. 

“Hey. How do you feel?” she asked. 

“Mmm. Not too bad.” 

Logan let go of her and rubbed his eyes. She tried not to feel disappointed at the sudden loss of contact. She wasn't sure how to handle the fact that they obviously cuddled together all night in her bed but pretending like it had never happened seemed like the best strategy. 

“Want me to get you some aspirin?”

Logan nodded. “That would be nice.”

Veronica rolled out of bed, threw on a t-shirt over her tank top, and headed to the kitchen. She came back with a glass of water and some pills for Logan. He was still lying in her bed with his arm thrown over his eyes. She sat gingerly on the edge of the small mattress, made even smaller by his large frame dwarfing it. 

“Are you sure you're okay?” she asked, concerned. 

He removed his hand from his eyes and blinked. “Thanks.”

Logan sat up and swallowed the pills and water. As Veronica was about to get up and head to the bathroom, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back down next to him on the bed. 

“You could have left me for the paparazzi last night, Ronnie. It’s probably what I deserved.”

“Hey. There was a time when I might have. But…” She didn’t know how to put her feelings into words. She’d softened towards Logan, been reminded of the friend he used to be. Could be again. She wasn’t sure she trusted him but she kept getting pulled back into his life. “It’s not a big deal.”

Placing a fleeting kiss on the top of his head, she fled to the bathroom. Thirty minutes later, she entered her room, freshly showered, wrapped in her bathrobe. Logan had returned to his position on his back in her bed, arm flung across his eyes. 

“Are you up for breakfast? I could make something,” she offered. 

“Mmm.” Logan kept his hand over his face. “That sounds good. Let me shower and then I’ll take you out for breakfast. I owe you that much, at least.” 

He rolled out of her bed and brushed past her on the way to the bathroom. He didn't seem to be suffering too much from the night before. 

Surreal is the only word that comes to mind, she thought. Logan Echolls, my friend turned mortal enemy turned friend again? is in my bathroom. I'm being nice to him. And he's being nice to me. I hope I don't live to regret this.

Oddly enough, breakfast was not as awkward as Veronica expected. While the past year hadn't exactly been forgotten, they both seemed to want to put it behind them. She and Logan fell back into their old rhythm of friendly banter rather easily, and she found herself enjoying their time together. Veronica was ridiculously thankful for her newfound friendship with Wallace, and admittedly it had been nice to have some girl time with Meg, but Veronica had become a loner. She could count her true friends on one hand and her time spent with Logan made her realize how much she had been missing. 

Logan paid for their breakfast (French toast and bacon for Veronica, pancakes for him) and they made their way out of the diner back to Veronica's car. 

Logan was quiet most of the way to his house. As Veronica pulled into his driveway—blessedly free of paparazzi this time—he finally spoke. 

“Wanna come in? You know, make sure it's safe from prying eyes and all?”

“I—yeah, okay.” 

She was going to say no. Why did I just agree to spend more time with Logan?

“Do you really want me to check for bugs?” she asked, hesitant, as she stepped out of the car. 

“Nah.” Then his eyes widened. “Do you—do you think the paparazzi would go that far?”

She shrugged. “Yes. But I don't think they have yet.”

Logan visibly relaxed and Veronica realized that grieving for your mom would be one thing, but grieving for her with Entertainment Tonight spying would be a whole different ball game. 

“If you really think it's a problem, like if private stuff is leaked that no one else knows, my dad has the equipment and we can do a sweep,” she offered. 

“Thanks.” 

Logan didn't meet her eyes as he let her in the front door. He headed to the kitchen so she followed and gratefully accepted the can of Skist he handed her from the refrigerator. 

She opened the top and jumped at the sound of Logan's dad's voice, spilling the orange soda on her hand. 

“Logan! Out all night! Where have you been?”

Logan's eyes widened with panic and Veronica jumped in, thinking fast. 

“Oh, Mr. Echolls, I'm so sorry, it's all my fault. Logan helped me when my date ditched me. I was stranded and,” she grabbed his arm and held onto his bicep, smiling at Aaron winningly, “he was the perfect gentleman.”

Mr. Echolls hadn't been around much when she had spent time at Logan's house in the past, but Veronica was astute enough to sense the tension between the two men. She couldn't put her finger on why, but being around Logan's dad always made her vaguely uncomfortable. He had always stressed proper masculine behavior, though, and she hoped rescuing a damsel in distress fell into that category. 

“Oh, Veronica, I didn't realize it was you. Well, I'm glad Logan was able to help. But next time, call, son.” He clapped Logan on the shoulder and turned to go outside. 

Veronica breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Thanks,” Logan whispered. 

She gave him a small smile. The stillness was broken by Veronica's phone, the loud noise startling in the quiet room. 

“Oh! Sorry!” She fumbled in her haste, quickly trying to pull it from her messenger bag. She frowned at the caller ID. 

“Hello?”

Veronica was met with silence on the other end. 

“Hellooooo?” She waited. “Nice breathing, thanks.” 

With a loud snap, she closed her phone. 

At Logan's questioning glance, she shrugged, explaining, “I've been getting hang ups a lot lately. It's probably nothing.” 

Logan, who had been slouching against the counter, stood up, forehead wrinkled in concern.

“Veronica, is someone stalking you?”

“No, nothing like that.” She brushed off his concern. “Just some random phone calls.”

“Call ‘em back? Or Star 69?” he suggested. 

She rolled her eyes at him. 

“You think I haven't tried that? You could be a P.I. with those kinds of skills.” She tossed him her phone. “Have at it.”

Logan caught her phone, reflexively, and flipped it open. He pushed some buttons and listened, looking smug. 

“It's ringing.” He held the phone back out to Veronica. 

Her eyes widened in surprise (and anger at his success) as a male voice drawled, “Hello.”

She gasped. Her body stiffened with tension. 

“Who's this? Why'd you just call me?”

“This's a pay phone, ma’am. Must’a been that blond lady.”

Blond lady!  

“Where? Where's the pay phone?” 

Logan's eyes were locked on hers as her voice ratcheted up a notch. 

“Outside a bar in Barstow. The Sagebrush Cantina. Can you let me go so I can use the phone now, please?”

“Uh, sure. Thanks.”

Veronica hung up and looked down at the kitchen counter. Her breathing was ragged and fast and she was sure she was flushed. She didn't want Logan to know what was going on. 

Too late. 

“I heard every word, Veronica. What are you mixed up in?” His voice was firm and steely, knuckles white as he gripped the kitchen counter behind him.

“It's not what you think. I've been looking for my mom. I—I think that was her. I've gotta go, Logan. I've got to track her down!” 

Veronica spun around to leave but Logan grabbed her arm and pulled her back to face him. 

“I'm not letting you go alone.”

“It’ll be fine.” She shook her arm from his grasp, backing to the entryway of the kitchen while facing him. “Really. I'll call you and let you know but you don't need to worry.”

“Nope.” He was adamant. “You're not going by yourself. I'm coming with you.”

“I don't—”

“There's no way your car can make it that far. And then what will you do, stranded in the desert by yourself? I don't think so.” He snatched her keys from her hand as her mouth dropped open. “I'm driving.”

“Logan, I—”

“Where's your dad, anyway?” he asked, clearly playing his trump card.

She could lie. But the intensity in his eyes made her squirm. She wasn’t sure what he’d do if he caught her in it. 

“Out of town,” she mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest with a huff. 

“It would be a shame if someone called him and let him know about these bad decisions you're making.” He smirked at her, smug in his victory. 

“I don't think he'd like me going on a road trip with you, either,” she retorted, grasping for straws. She knew she was beaten.  

“I’ll be your muscle. I'm a great driver. Ooh, and I'll get you snacks.” He tossed her keys up in the air and caught them. “Let's go.”

After Logan dressed in his own clothes, they retrieved his car and fueled up on gas and road trip snacks. Veronica dug out a map, and they hit the road for Barstow. She wasn't willing to admit it, but once she resigned herself to the idea it wasn’t so bad. She was secretly a little thankful for Logan's company. 

He had supplied them with an excellent selection of road trip snacks—Chex mix, beef jerky, gummy worms, chocolate covered peanuts, and coffee—plus his car was reliable and boasted a kickin’ stereo and working AC, which were things her LeBaron sorely lacked. Logan also let her mess with the radio whenever she wanted and she was comfortable with him whether they were talking or sitting in silence. 

Last night had certainly gone a long way towards rebuilding things between them, and while she couldn’t forget all that had transpired, she wanted to hold on to this tentative truce. It felt good to have Logan back in her life. 

As they got closer to Barstow, though, the tension ratcheted up in the vehicle with every mile. She was stretched taut, like a vibrating guitar string, when Logan pulled into the parking lot of the Sagebrush Cantina. 

“Do you think she's here?” He turned the car off and gestured at the ramshackle building. The sign on the long, squat, wooden building was faded almost beyond recognition, and the windows were blacked out. It did not look like the kind of fun, “let's hang out” type of bar that she had envisioned herself going to in college. 

All she could manage was a nod to answer Logan's question. 

Now that she was here, she was paralyzed. What if her mom was there? In this dirty bar at three in the afternoon. What would she say? What if her mom wasn't there? What then?

She felt Logan's stare on her and with a deep breath, she turned to him. 

“You have a fake ID, right?”

He barked a sarcastic laugh at her in response. 

“Okay. Remember when you offered to be my muscle?”

He nodded. 

“Muscle is silent.” She emphasized the last word. “Look tough but keep your mouth shut and let me do the talking.”

He shrugged and pantomimed zipping his lips. She pretended to lock his mouth and made a show of putting the imaginary key in her pocket. 

Unbuckling her seatbelt, she quickly pulled off her pink hooded sweatshirt and exchanged it for the olive green cargo jacket she had stashed in the backseat. Her fake ID was solid (because she had made it, thank you very much) but she figured looking older would help. 

She took out her ponytail, fluffed her hair, and added some eyeliner and a coat of dark lipstick she found in her purse. Logan merely watched her primping process with fascination. The frayed jeans and motocross jacket that he was wearing already sent out the tough, bad boy vibe quite nicely and didn’t need any modifications.

“Lets go.”

Veronica hopped out of the car, squared her shoulders and opened the door to the bar. Her nose wrinkled when she was hit with the smell of stale beer and urine. Gross. 

Veronica and her fake ID had been to clubs in San Diego and L.A. with Lilly before. But she'd never actually been to a bar like this. It was disgusting, honestly. The atmosphere was desolate and depressing. It was the middle of the afternoon but dim inside the bar. There were a handful of patrons this time of day, seated in lonely booths and leaning against the bar. She couldn't imagine anyone wanting to spend time in this place, let alone her mom. 

She felt Logan's hand, reassuring on the small of her back, and she stepped inside. 

Clearing her throat to get the bartender’s attention, she was surprised to see a girl behind the bar with purple spiked hair, only a few years older than herself. She had been expecting a large, heavily tattooed man in leather but the girl helped her relax a bit. 

The bartender raised an eyebrow. “ID, please.”

Veronica didn't bat an eye while she flipped open her wallet. She pulled a picture of her mom out as well. 

“Have you seen this woman?” she asked, low and intense. 

The bartender backed away with her hands up. “Hey, I don't know anything.”

“No, it's not like that. There's no trouble. I'm just looking for my mom.”

The girl must have seen something honest in her eyes because she came closer to Veronica and examined the picture. 

“Yeah, I've seen her. But not for a few days.”

“Do you know if she's living here? Has she talked to you? Do you know what name she's using?” The questions tumbled out of Veronica's mouth so quickly that the bartender backed up again. 

“Whoa, whoa. I don't know anything. She doesn't talk and pays in cash, keeps to herself.” Her eyes, rimmed with thick, black liner, went wide at Veronica's interrogation. 

Mentally cursing herself for spooking the girl, she tried to speak at a slower pace and told herself to be less aggressive. Logan's hand resumed its position on her lower back and it helped ground her. 

“When was the last time you saw her?” Veronica asked, flipping her wallet closed.

“Um, Wednesday, maybe?” The girl paused to think. “But I didn't work Thursday or Friday so…” 

“What about this morning?” Veronica quickly checked the call log on her cell phone. “Around lunchtime?”

The girl shook her head. “Bar doesn't open until two.”

Veronica wondered if it would be worth sticking around to try to talk with the employees who had worked the other nights. Even if it was, she and Logan certainly weren't staying inside this dive much longer. 

“What about places to stay in town?”

“And other bars?” Logan added from behind her. 

She shot him a glare for breaking his silence but it actually was a decent question. 

“There's a few motels down by the truck stop. Plus another bar on the other side of town. But it's…” She paused, “I don't think it would be her scene. It's a little more upscale?” 

The bartender did her best to tactfully let Veronica know that it was too nice for her mom to feel comfortable there. Message received. Just how far had her mom fallen?

She sighed. “Who was working on Thursday and Friday?”

“Um, Hank had the first shift both days, and I think Jimmy worked the nights. I can go check for sure, though.” She jerked her head, indicating the employee backroom behind the bar. 

“Do you think they would talk to me? Would you mind?”

“Sure.” The girl, Veronica realized she didn't even know her name, disappeared around the corner. 

Veronica bit her lip and turned to Logan. Before she could say anything, though, the bartender was back. 

“Yeah, Hank on days and Jimmy at night. Hank’s working the night shift later, he'd probably talk to you. Jimmy...not so much. He doesn't work till tomorrow afternoon.”

“Thanks.” Veronica smiled gratefully at her. “You've been so helpful. I didn't actually catch your name earlier?”

“Oh. It's Rebecca.” She stuck her hand over the bar for Veronica to shake. 

“Veronica.”

Rebecca gave Logan a questioning eye but he stayed silent. 

“Well, good luck, Veronica.”

“Thanks, Rebecca.” Veronica gave her a smile as she spun on her heel and tried not to catch anyone’s attention. 

“So what's next?” Logan asked as they exited the bar. 

“I'd like to stick around, question the other bartenders tonight. Maybe drive around for a bit, get the lay of the land?”

“Sure.” 

Logan walked her to the passenger side of the car and opened the door. 

“You really take this muscle thing seriously,” she joked, trying to lighten the mood. 

“That's why I'm here.”

Logan talked her into milkshakes and cheeseburgers at the greasy diner down the road from the bar, which Veronica enjoyed more than she wanted to let on. She figured the night shift probably started around 8 p.m. so five minutes before, they made their way back to the bar to talk to Hank. 

Hank was a nondescript man with light brown hair and glasses, medium height, medium build. He also hadn't seen Lianne Mars recently. 

Veronica gave a deep sigh as they made their way back to Logan's Xterra. 

“So…” Logan began. “What do you want to do?”

He let her into the car and made his way to the driver's side. 

She didn't look at him but could feel Logan's expectant stare on her from across the car. She sighed again and in her frustration, lashed out at him. 

“Well, if I were by myself, like I wanted to be—”

“You wanna stay and talk to the other bartender tomorrow?” he offered, not taking the bait and engaging her argument. 

Veronica met his eyes. There was no pressure there, no judgment or pity. Only support and genuine curiosity. Her anger deflated. 

“Yeah. I really do,” she answered quietly. “If you don't mind.”

“Nope.” He shrugged. “I know how pathetic this sounds, but staking out a crappy bar with you in Barstow is actually way better than what I'd be doing at home.”

She thought back to earlier. Logan's echoing, empty house and the palpable tension between him and his dad. How it felt, holding him in her arms as he sobbed the night before. Veronica hated being dependent on anyone and she didn't want Logan to think that she needed him to come along on this trip with her. It hadn't crossed her mind that it might have actually been a distraction he needed as well. 

“Shall we go find one of the lovely motels Rebecca mentioned?” he asked as he pulled out of the parking lot. 

“I'm not sure that these locales will be, um, up to your standards.” 

Veronica doubted that Logan had ever seen a hotel with less than 5 stars, let alone slept in one.

“It's fine.” He shrugged. “The high maintenance thing is kind of an act.”

I guess we’ll find out how much of an act it really is, she thought to herself. 

Veronica stared out the window until she realized the car had stopped. They weren't in front of a cheap motel, though, but a drug store. 

“Sorry, I'm trying to be low maintenance but I still need a toothbrush,” Logan apologized as he turned off the car. 

“That's actually a great idea.” 

Logan's eyebrows rose at her compliment as they walked inside. 

“Did you just say something nice to me?” He laid his hand on her forehead. “Are you sick?”

She swatted his hand away playfully. “It's amazing what a travel size bottle of shampoo will do for my spirits, I suppose. Now, only the essentials. Meet me back here in five.”

“Here's the thing, Veronica.” Logan cleared his throat nervously. 

They were sitting in his Xterra outside the least-rundown motel that Barstow offered. It was called ‘The Desert Oasis’ and the V was out on the flashing ‘Vacancy’ sign. 

“I'm not trying anything, I wouldn't, it's just that—”

“Spit it out, Echolls,” she interrupted. 

“I think we should share a room.” He gulped. “I'm not comfortable with you being alone.”

“You're not comfortable?” She glared at him, crossed her arms over her chest. “What about what makes me comfortable? Like, a room to myself?”

“I promise, I'll give you your space,” he said hurriedly, “It's just—you can't leave me to fend for myself in a crappy motel like this. What if I catch poverty?” 

Veronica rolled her eyes at his antics, but she was mollified. Now she could give in and pretend like it was for Logan. Being alone with her thoughts for an evening sounded like a recipe for disaster. 

“Alright, fine. But two beds, obviously.” 

Let's just forget that we both slept in my twin bed together last night, shall we? 

Logan cocked an eyebrow at her but only dryly echoed, “Obviously.” 

After checking in, Veronica opened the door of room 112 with a flourish for Logan. “Tada! A crappy motel room!”

“Wow. That's a lot of chintz.” 

He was right. A cursory glance revealed two full size beds, wall to wall carpet, curtains, and wallpaper, all covered in a green and pink floral pattern. 

“Yuck,” Veronica observed, wrinkling her nose. 

She sat her plastic shopping bag on the bed nearest the door and flopped down next to it. 

“God, I'm so tired. Let's just go to sleep.”

“Aw, I thought we were going to play slumber party games.” Logan's sarcastic tone made her smile. 

“You desperately want me to paint your nails, don't you?” she teased. 

He waved his fingers at her. “I could pull it off.”

The funny thing was, he probably could. 

She tossed her jacket on the bed next to her and stretched. “Mmm. Not exactly comfortable but it could be worse.”

“Are you sure?” Logan joked. “Because based on my experiences, this is as bad as it gets.”

“Poor little Logan, slumming it in a sketchy motel.” She made fake crying sounds and he stuck out his tongue. 

“Don't spread it around, Mars. You’ll ruin my image.”

She took in the sight before her—Logan Echolls, her sworn enemy, in a trashy motel room with her in Barstow, California, helping her track down her mom. 

“No one would believe it,” she mumbled. 

While Logan fiddled with the TV, and complained about the channel selection, Veronica made some phone calls to check in with her dad and Wallace, then washed her face, brushed her teeth, and crawled into her bed. She was in a tank top and jeans, wishing for some sweatpants or shorts. 

Logan was engrossed in a mattress infomercial on TV, trying to guess the price. 

“Yeah, but they're gonna cut the price in half in a second,” she murmured with her eyes closed. 

Logan watched until he saw that she was right and then got up and got ready for bed in the bathroom, flipping the light off on his way back to bed. 

“Veronica,” she heard him whisper quietly in the dark a few minutes later. 

“What?” She opened her eyes. He was rolling on the bed, trying to get comfortable. 

“This is the worst,” he complained. “At least let me take off my pants.”

She gulped and tried not to picture that. 

“Should I be worried about your fascination with not wearing pants around me? What happened to being a perfect gentleman?” 

“I never promised that.”

She was pretty sure he was wagging his eyebrows at her suggestively but she couldn't be sure in the dark. 

She gave a put-upon sigh. “Fine. Stay on your side of the room.”

“It’s too hot,” Logan whined a few minutes later. “Can I turn on the AC?”

“Whatever.” She motioned at the decrepit window unit before remembering that he probably couldn’t see it. Huffing when he switched on the light, she rolled the other direction as he fiddled with the controls, then blasted cold air in the room. 

“That’s better.” She heard him settle back down in his bed. 

The silence stretched between them but now she couldn’t get comfortable. 

“Logan?” she asked into the darkness. 

He murmured something that could have been “What?”

“My jeans are really awful to sleep in, too. Do you mind…” she trailed off. 

He muttered a string of nonsense words so Veronica assumed he was asleep enough that she could take off her jeans and her bra. As long as she put them back on in the morning before she hopped out of bed, he would never know. She was hoping ‘what happens in Barstow, stays in Barstow,’ could be their motto for this impromptu road trip. She didn't allow herself to think about the fact that they were both half-naked in a motel room together. 

More comfortable now, Veronica tried to sleep. Her body was exhausted, it should be easy. But she couldn’t turn her mind off, and the air conditioner blew full-blast across her body, making her shiver under the blankets. She was too cold to sleep. 

She thought about putting her jeans back on for warmth, or socks or her jacket. Should she get up and try to find them? Mess with the AC controls herself? Look for another blanket somewhere? Regardless, she’d have to turn on the light. 

“Logan?”

“Mmm?” His voice was rough with exhaustion. 

“I’m freezing.”

He sighed and rustled around in his bed. “Close your eyes, I’m gonna turn on the light.”

Complying, she squeezed them shut against the brightness. She could hear him messing with the buttons but her eyes flew open and she sat up, clutching the covers to her chest, when he started banging on it. 

“Logan?” 

“Um.” He spun to face her. “It’s broken.”

Trying vainly to stop her shivers, she pulled the thin blanket all the way off her bed and tucked it around herself. 

“It’s fine,” she muttered. It wasn’t. 

“I’m sorry, Veronica.”

If she could get to her clothes, maybe she could put them on inside her cocoon. Sleeping in jeans still sounded awful but it was better than freezing. Probably. Her teeth chattered as she looked around for them. 

“Look, if you’re that cold, how about you come sleep with me?”

Snorting her reply, she shoved her feet in her socks. 

“Everything was fine last night,” he argued, “and I can’t fall asleep with you dying of hypothermia over there.”

“But…”

He was right. She hated that he was right but she hated freezing even more so, picking the lesser of the two evils, she took her blanket and moved onto Logan’s bed, as far away from him as possible. 

“Veronica, it’s only going to work if you let me touch you.”

She stiffened and he rushed on. “Not like that. Just, come here.”

Throwing off his covers, he opened the circle of his arms to her. Debating internally, she could see his flesh prickle with goosebumps. 

“Oh, fine.”

Launching herself at him, Veronica pressed against every inch of his warm skin. Inhaling, she rubbed her cold nose on his sternum. 

“You feel so good.”

Logan made a strangled sound. “I’m trying to be a gentleman here, Veronica, but maybe you could refrain from giving me openings like that? It’s too hard to resist.”

She chuckled. “Okay. I’ll go to sleep instead.”

Because now that she was warm and comfortable, her eyelids were heavy, burning with fatigue. 

Logan smoothed her hair, ran his hands down her shoulders to rest securely on her back. 

“Goodnight, Veronica.”

“Night, Logan.”

Veronica woke the next morning to find herself spooned in Logan's arms. His large, warm hand spread across her belly and the hem of her tank top had ridden up so that three of his fingers were in contact with her bare skin. She tried to ignore the lightning bolts his touch was sending through her. 

The air conditioner must have kicked off during the night because the room was no longer a polar ice cap. Veronica debated trying to sneak out of the bed without waking Logan. That was obviously what a sane, rational person would do. 

The only problem was, she was having a hard time remembering why she was supposed to be sane and rational. Cuddling with Logan felt amazing. 

She rolled over so that she was facing Logan and nuzzled her nose into his bare chest. God, he smelled good. And there were all kinds of muscles visible that she didn't remember from the last time she saw him without a shirt. (Although she was dating Duncan then so she obviously wasn’t supposed to be making an inventory.)

He shifted, still asleep, rolling onto his back and pulling her with him, on top of him. 

“V’ronica,” he sighed in his sleep. His voice sounded lighter, happier than she was used to. His hands began rubbing her back and she sighed deeply. She could get used to this. 

Suddenly, his hands fell away and his head lolled to the side, faintly snoring. 

Closing her eyes, she tried to calm her raging hormones so she could go back to sleep. She probably should move so she wasn't crushing him, but he really did make an excellent pillow. 

The sun lit the room the next time Veronica woke. She shifted, and Logan’s eyelashes fluttered open, blinking sleepy, brown eyes at her. 

“Hi,” she whispered. 

“Hi. Did you sleep okay, after the AC fiasco?”

“Mmm-hmm.” She nodded and sat up, missing Logan’s warmth but embarrassed at their intimacy. “Would you—do you think you could—would you close your eyes for a second?”

Logan put his hand over his eyes. She had literally slept on top of him but that didn’t mean she wanted him to see her without pants. He probably peeked through his fingers as she ran to the bathroom if his laughter was any indication. 

Pulling the door shut soundly she called out, “Okay, you can open your eyes!”

And now time for a cold shower, girl.  

There wasn't much to do in Barstow, as Veronica and Logan had discovered the day before when they drove around the small town. After running out for breakfast, they spent the morning in their motel room playing gin until checkout time. 

The Sagebrush Cantina opened at two p.m. and Veronica wanted to get there early so they could hopefully catch the bartender when he was free. There were a handful of other patrons sitting in a booth near the door. Veronica didn't let her eyes linger, trying not to draw attention to themselves. 

Rebecca and Hank may not have fit the bartender image she held in her mind but Jimmy definitely did. He was tall and bald, with broad shoulders and beefy arms showing in his leather vest. His face was fixed in a permanent scowl and Veronica gulped before approaching the bar. Logan gave her hand a squeeze and she started walking, not letting go of him. Her other hand fingered her taser in her purse. 

“ID,” he growled at them. “No way you're 21,” he muttered under his breath. 

They both flipped open their IDs to his glance. Jimmy lingered a little too long on Logan's fake license and Veronica made a mental note to get them out of there as quickly as possible. Barstow may have been a small town but Echolls was a recognizable last name everywhere. 

“I actually just wanted to ask you a question—” Veronica began but Jimmy cut her off. 

“No. This is a private establishment and I only talk to people with warrants.” If possible, his face became more hostile. 

Rebecca had mentioned that Jimmy wouldn't like questions. Veronica was starting to think this may not have been worth the overnight stay. 

“I'm just looking for my mom. She's—”

“Nope. I don't want your made up sob story or your Hollywood money. Now get out of here,” he sneered and made an extremely vulgar (and anatomically impossible) suggestion under his breath. 

Logan stiffened behind her. 

“Apologize to her now, or else,” he said, his voice low through his clenched teeth. She had forgotten to lock his mouth and throw away the key this time. 

She knew the smart thing to do was leave. She knew this—but she had tracked her mom to Barstow and spent the night, waiting to talk to this jerk. She wasn't leaving without some answers. 

“It's not a sob story,” she persisted, getting closer to the bar. “I'm just looking for my mom. I think she was here last week, have you seen her since Wednesday?”

“Get out of my bar,” Jimmy growled. 

Veronica fumbled in her purse for a picture of her mother, but halted at a hand on her arm. It was Rebecca. She hadn’t noticed her approach, so engrossed in her conversation with Jimmy.

“Veronica. I have something for you.”

Hoping it wasn’t a trick, she tugged Logan with her and followed Rebecca out the front door, squinting against the bright sunlight. 

“Um, I need you to not ask any questions, but I got this from your mom. She wanted me to give it to you.”

Pressing a folded piece of paper into Veronica’s hand, she disappeared back through the bar entrance. 

Fingers shaking, she debated going after Rebecca but her curiosity won out. Unfolding the paper, she devoured her mom’s note, barely registering Logan reading over her shoulder. 

Dear Veronica,

I know you were here looking for me. You have to stop. I am fine and safe. There is too much to tell you to fit in this letter. I have too many regrets in my life but leaving you behind is not one of them. I miss you desperately but Neptune is the best place for you. I promise I will explain someday. For now, please stop trying to find me. I’m not coming back but I will make contact with you when I can. Tell your dad I’m sorry...for everything.

Love,

Mom

She crumpled the paper into a tight ball in her fist before the tears could blur her mother’s words. She expected to be angry, but really, she just felt empty. It wasn’t the answer that she had hoped for but...it was something. As the tears flowed down her face, the weight of her mom’s disappearance slipped off her shoulders. 

Is this what closure fees like? Lousier than I expected.

She didn’t understand but it was clear it was time for her to stop looking, stop pushing. Her mom was right—being with her dad in Neptune was better than seedy bars and rundown motels in Barstow. And it took a lot to make Neptune look like a good option.

Logan’s hand, heavy and warm, kneaded her shoulder. 

“Come on, Veronica. Let’s go.”

Letting him lead her to the car in silence, she climbed into the passenger seat and buckled automatically. 

“Ready to go home?” he asked, glancing over at her. 

Veronica nodded. She wasn’t ready, not really, but she didn’t know what else to say. And Logan had been surprisingly decent; he didn’t need to bear any more of her burden. 

“Thanks, for everything. I’m glad I didn’t have to do this on my own.”

“I know the feeling, Veronica.

“It’s over. She’s not coming back.” The finality of the words landed like pebbles in her stomach. But just because she didn’t like it didn’t make it any less true. She faced unvarnished truths head-on these days, she relished the hard facts. Although it was easier when it was other people’s facts she was uncovering. 

Grabbing her hand, Logan squeezed her fingers reassuringly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Knowing is better than not.”

As he drove, he kept hold of her hand over the gear shift, looking over at her periodically. 

“What?” she asked after he stole another glance. 

“Nothing. I’m just—”

Movement caught the corner of her eye. A huge black truck, barreling down on them, crossing the yellow line into their lane. “Logan! Look out!”

His eyes flew back to the windshield, slamming on the brakes and jerking the steering wheel, swerving to avoid the oncoming car. Veronica couldn’t help the gasp that tore from her throat as she braced herself against the dashboard. Fear gripped her, sending her thoughts into overdrive. It all happened so fast. 

The truck corrected course but the Xterra ran off the road, bumping over uneven terrain and finally skidding to a stop in a patch of gravel on the highway shoulder. The seatbelt jerked painfully across her ribs and her head smacked the window. 

“Logan.” Her voice trembled as their eyes met. She tried to calm her racing heart. 

He reached over the console and grazed her cheek gently. 

“Are you okay?” he rasped. “You’re bleeding.”

She nodded and her head throbbed. A trickle of blood seeped through her fingers near her hairline but she wiped it away. Logan unbuckled, fumbled in the glove box, brushing her knees as he handed her a napkin and shifted in his seat to inspect her cut. 

“It’s shallow.” He cupped her face. “I don’t think you’ll need stitches. Just a scratch. But, god, Veronica, if anything had happened to you—”

Logan broke off his words and swallowed. His hand tightened along her jaw and a jumble of emotions flashed through his eyes—anger, fear, protectiveness—and the tension in the car crackled. Veronica snapped. 

She launched herself into his arms. Their mouths collided in a rush of adrenaline. Fisting her fingers in Logan's hair, she pulled him closer. He kissed her back hungrily, devouring her mouth. Their tongues tangled together and little jolts of electricity shot through her. His hands slid down her shoulders to rest on her waist and she realized that she was straddling him. 

Veronica finally had to come up for air, breaking the kiss. Logan moved from her mouth to her neck and began sucking on the delicate skin there. It made her toes curl and she couldn't help the moan that escaped her. Between the rush of danger, hormones, and general hotness that was Logan Echolls beneath her, this was without a doubt the most turned on she'd ever been. She was probably going to hyperventilate and tried to calm herself by dragging Logan's lips back to hers. It was a vastly unsuccessful tactic. 

As their mouths met again, Logan's hands slid from her waist to her hips, brushing the hem of her shirt and the exposed skin there. One of his thumbs made gentle circles at her hipbone and the other rubbed her lower back, then headed lower still. His hand on her hip moved to her belly, thumb grazing it, and his other hand curved around her ass, squeezing; it was so much incredible sensation all at once that Veronica gasped, breaking the kiss. 

She carefully leaned her forehead against Logan's, catching her breath, and then pulled back, looking into his eyes. Veronica was reassured to discover that he was not unaffected by their kiss, either. His gaze was dark with lust and he looked just as surprised as she felt. 

“What was that?” she whispered cautiously. 

“I don't know. But I'd like to find out.” He wound his fingers through the hair at the nape of her neck and brought his mouth to hers again. 

Logan's lips were firm and purposeful this time, not driven entirely by instinct but exploring her mouth at a measured pace, like they had all day to make out in his car. And maybe they did, she realized. She certainly liked this idea better than any other plans she had made. 

Lilly had always gone on and on about how great a kisser Logan was, but honestly, Veronica hadn't wanted to think of her friends that way and so she tried to tune it out. Now she understood what Lilly had been talking about. 

It's not like she had kissed that many boys to have a lot of comparisons; kissing Duncan had been pleasant enough and Troy wasn't that bad at it, either. But with Logan—she felt drawn to him like a magnet and she didn't want to pull away. Her skin was hot where his fingers trailed over it and she realized (embarrassingly) that she was rocking against him, her hips moving in a slow, tantalizing rhythm. 

She moved her hands from Logan's neck to his shoulders and down his back, freezing at his gasp of pain. 

“Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?” She pulled back now to read his face and scrambled off of his lap and back into the passenger seat. “The impact, I didn't think—”

“I'm okay, Veronica.” He smirked. “So good, in fact, that I forgot all about it.” He leaned over and placed a quick kiss on her lips. “What about you? How’s your head?” 

He ran his finger over her hairline. “Bleeding’s stopped.”

“I'm fine. Maybe a bruise or two but,” she shrugged it off. 

Logan grimaced and rubbed his torso. “I think I’ll have a mark from the seat belt.”

“Do you think your ribs are okay? You better take your shirt off so I can see.”

She actually wasn't trying to flirt with him but he bobbed his eyebrows suggestively and gave her a smug smile. 

“Oh, I should, huh?”

She punched his arm lightly, barely making contact in case he was bruised. 

“Not like that! This is concern, not a move to get in your pants.” She rolled her eyes. “The way you take them off all the time, no moves are necessary on my part. Now let me see.”

Logan obligingly removed his black motocross jacket and pulled his soft grey t-shirt over his head in one fluid (incredibly sexy) motion. Sure enough, his chest and abdomen were marred with angry red imprints.

“Logan,” she breathed, horrified, as she ran her fingers gently over his mottled skin. “Do you need to go to a hospital?”

“Nah, I'm fine. Just a little bruising, is all. They don't feel broken. I think,” he waggled his eyebrows again, “that a kiss would make it all better.”

Veronica rolled her eyes at his antics but still leaned over the console and placed a tender kiss on his lips. He grabbed her biceps and pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. She continued to gently run her hands over his exposed sides and shoulders, delighting in the feel of his skin under her fingers. He settled her in his lap again and had just moved his lips to that spot that she liked so much on her neck when a rap on the window hastily startled them apart. 

Veronica scrambled back into her seat while Logan threw his shirt on. He rolled his window down to see a police officer glaring at them. 

“What’s going on here?”

“Sorry, sir,” Veronica leaned over Logan to answer, probably the better choice to address an officer of the law. “We had a scare and pulled over to get our bearings. A car came across the center line at us.”

“Get your bearings? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”  Her cheeks burned as he barked, “License and registration, please.”

Gulping, she retrieved the Xterra’s registration from the glove box in front of her seat and handed it to Logan. She’d never been so mortified in her whole life.

“Loitering, public indecency…” The officer trailed off. It was obvious when he caught sight of the name on the car’s title. His eyes widened and she could practically see the dollar signs flash in them. “You kids should probably come down to the station with me, unless…”

“We’re not trying to cause trouble.” She was impressed with how well Logan could suck up when he put his mind to it. “We’re on our way out of town, sir.”

Subtly, Logan slipped the officer a large bill. Veronica had never prayed for police corruption to work in her favor before, but she had just made out with Logan Echolls in his car so obviously today was full of firsts. 

“I suppose I can let you off with a warning,” he drawled and she let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. Explaining to her dad why she was at a police station in Barstow was definitely not on her list of things to do today.

The police officer blinked and slipped the money into his wallet. Probably planning on calling the paparazzi as soon as he got back into his squad car. 

Logan thanked him and promised to heed his advice to drive safely. He pulled away, merging back onto the road, gripping her hand tightly across the console. 

“Do you think that truck came at us on purpose?” Veronica asked, thinking back over the incident.

“No. They swerved back into their own lane and didn’t seem bothered by it. Didn’t chase after us or anything.” He cleared his throat. “There’s a gas station up ahead. We can grab anything we need. And then we should probably get the hell out of here.”

Logan drove in silence until they pulled into the station a few miles down the road. He turned off the ignition and ran his hand through his hair. 

“I’ll be right back, okay?” He picked up her hand and kissed her knuckles before heading into the convenience store. 

Had that truck specifically targeted them? Logan didn’t think so, and for once, that was enough for Veronica. Leaving Lianne Mars and Barstow behind was obviously what was best. She couldn’t help her mom if she didn’t want to be saved. 

She couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss. That earth-shattering, life-altering kiss. Were they going to talk about it? Did she want to? No. But Logan had been surprisingly decent to her. He deserved better than the Duncan Treatment—ignoring things. 

As if her thoughts drew him to her, Logan’s outline filled the doorway of the gas station. The sun hit the glass, sending a glare into her eyes but she knew it was him anyway. 

Maybe closure on her mom wasn’t the only thing she found on this trip. 

Logan slid into his seat, leaned over and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. He tossed a plastic bag of snacks into the backseat and kept his eyes trained on hers, intent. 

If closure was what she managed with her mom, was this the opposite with Logan? A new beginning?

“So that was...yeah.” She shifted, reclined against the car door, body angled toward him. Logan merely bobbed his eyebrows. “Is this...whatever this is between us...is it just ‘cause I’m here?”

“Veronica,” his voice was low, quiet, and his eyes darted over to lock on hers. “It’s ‘cause you're the only one here. You’ve been the only one that matters for a while now.”

Warmth bloomed in her chest. Logan mattered to her, too, had for a long time. That kiss was proof that she didn’t need to deny that her feelings went far beyond friendship. It was enough for now; they could figure out the rest later. 

She smiled, crossed her arms and settled in, getting comfortable, enjoying the crooked grin on his face before her eyes drifted shut. 

“You can sleep for a while.” Warm and confident, his words reassured her. “I’ll get us home safe.”