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Stretched out on the sofa, her legs carefully draped over Logan's thighs, Veronica only marginally listened to the sound of the TV. Watching reruns of The Office was Logan's thing, so she was content with her copy of The Book Thief. In the background, monotonous dialogue and overly flat jokes turned into annoying commercials, and she only took partial notice of Bert, the Bed King, selling the "bestest of the best" box spring bed sets the world had to offer.
Logan's hand was curled around her sock-clad foot, his thumb gently working out all the kinks that a day at the Hut had introduced - until his ministrations came to an abrupt halt. The all too familiar opening theme of one of her most loathed TV programming came over the speakers, crawling over her skin like a tiny, venomous spider.
"Tonight on Access Hollywood. New developments in the death of Academy Award winner Aaron Echolls. Shortly after being found not guilty of the murder of his son's teenage girlfriend, the actor was found shot in his hotel suite this past May."
Veronica's head snapped up from her book, her eyes darting across the couch toward Logan. He sat silently, gaze fixed on the TV, lips tightly pressed together, making no attempt whatsoever to either flip the channel or turn off the damn television.
Where was the fucking remote?
There was no effing reason why he needed to witness yet another headline story about the Echolls family when he'd just started to make the first steps to get his life back together.
"We have an exclusive interview with the local Sheriff about new uncovered evidence. Also joining us is the late actor's daughter, Trina Echolls, about the possible involvement of a local socialite in her father's death."
She finally found the remote stuck behind a cushion, and with a flick of her thumb, turned off the TV. The room turned quiet, Logan's heavy, agitated breathing the only sound permeating the utter silence.
"Logan?" she whispered as she reached out to him, her hand caressing the bare skin of his arm that was leisurely draped over knees. He just shook his head slightly as he pushed her legs off his lap.
"My dear sister has just reached a new low," he muttered as he rose from the couch, crossing the short distance towards the mini bar. "I thought she possibly couldn't sink any lower than accepting a part in the awesome Aaron Echolls biopic. No, she runs out of money, and when her darling little brother doesn’t want to chip in, she's starting to dish out all the family secrets." He reached inside the fridge and pulled out a bottle of beer. "Want one?"
"No," she was by his side a moment later, and took the bottle from him before he could open it, "and neither should you."
"Ah, we're going for the hard stuff instead," he replied, his face covered in a sarcastic smirk as he started opening cabinet after cabinet, "I think there's still some Rum and Vodka left somewhere from graduation. Might have to ditch the Coke though cause I forgot to stock up on soda. But nothing better than some damn fine liquid au naturel, right?"
Silently, she placed a hand on his shoulder. It was all that was needed to stop him on his restless quest to find something to take the edge off, drown out the memories, help him forget.
The weeks after Aaron Echolls' murder had been horror. On a daily basis, Logan was confronted with those celebrating the irrefutable and just verdict the court had spoken, now mourning the death of their idol as they still placed flowers, signs, even teddy bears, at the entrance of the hotel and held a candlelight vigil for a life that had come to a tragic end all too sudden. And mingling with the troves of unwavering fans were the so-called news reporters. Hiding out in the lobby, the garage, even the small alcove down the hallway. All just to get a comment from Logan about his father's untimely death. Show off the grieving, orphaned son and allow everyone who gave a damn to dwell in his sorrow with him.
The world was out on what felt like a hunt for Logan Echolls, the usual no comment a necessary, but despicable disruption he no longer wanted to tolerate. There was no privacy any longer. The vultures had invaded his life, and they were ready to stay for however long they could persevere - for however long they could make money off the sad story of this teenage boy.
Even after his death, there was no escaping Aaron Echolls.
Veronica wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her cheek against his shoulder blades. Palms flat against his stomach, she just waited. Waited for any kind of reaction from him. As long as she could keep him from reaching for the alcohol, she'd take anything. Yelling. Screaming. Crying. Even hitting, punching, destroying things. Heck, she'd even be up for a fast and hard fuck against the damn counter of the kitchenette, if that was what he needed. Anything to keep him from drifting off towards the booze. She couldn't watch another person succumb to the beckoning call of supposed freedom the bottles lined up in the cabinet seemed to promise.
Seconds ticked by, ten, twenty, almost thirty, until he moved, ever so slightly. His hand slipped over her arm, coming to rest on top of hers. Thumb brushing tenderly over her skin, she heard him sigh deeply.
"If he hadn't killed Lilly…"
"No," she stopped him immediately, her voice firm and resolute. "We're not going to talk about him."
"If Lilly was still alive," Logan started again, intertwining his fingers with hers, pressing her hand tighter against his body as if he was trying to tether himself to her so he wouldn’t get lost, "do you think we would have happened? This? Us?"
The question startled her. Most of the time she’d thought about Lilly, the day she died, the weeks, months, years that followed, it always had been about the dread and the desperation. About everything that was lost - friendships, family… but never really that maybe in all that darkness, there’d been a certain shimmer of light that otherwise would never have surfaced. Two souls so lost that they inadvertently drifted towards each other, trying to find the solace they both so desperately needed.
“Do you think we wouldn't?” she mumbled against the fabric of his shirt, tightening her embrace around his warm, firm body.
"I don't know,” he breathed, shaking his head. “It was always Lilly and Logan, and Duncan and Veronica.”
“It was never only that. You and I, we were friends for a long time before that.”
He wriggled out of her embrace to turn and gather her into his arms. Chin on top of her head, hands splayed across the small of her back, she was tucked securely against his body. Back in the days, back when Lilly was still alive, he used to tease her about the incredibly sweet smell of her shampoo, like a mix of marshmallows and gummy bears, but right now, it was exactly what he needed - because whenever that specific smell wafted through the air and filled his nostrils, it felt like home.
“Have you never thought about it?" he murmured, "What our lives would be like if Lilly was still around?”
“Only a million times.” Her voice was soft, and the faintest of smiles crept into the corners of her mouth, even if only for a second. “You really wanna talk about this?”
He leaned back a fraction and nodded solemnly. Lifting her head, she gazed up at him shortly, then picked up his hand, fingers curling gently around his, squeezing it slightly before she led him back to the couch. She took her favorite spot again, perched against the crook of the big L, legs curled under her. Logan slumped down next to her, feet immediately up on the coffee table. Hands placed in his lap, palms restlessly rubbing over the coarse denim material of his jeans.
“Do you remember the day Lilly died?” Veronica's voice echoed through the suite, empathic and compassionate, and he let out the breath he hadn't noticed he was holding.
“That’s one of the few days that’s most probably gonna haunt me for the rest of my life.”
“You told me you left a note for her in her car. Telling her it was over once and for all.” There was a moment of silence. A small hand found its way on top of a much larger one, fingers locking immediately. “Did you mean it?”
“That I wasn’t gonna come crawling back to her?" His head turned towards her, and she could see the darkness in his eyes, shading the chocolate brown color of his irises. "We both know that I’m an expert in this on again off again business. So who knows?” He shrugged pensively. “That day though - I was absolutely sure I was never gonna go back to her. I could continue to be her friend, but I could never be her boyfriend again. I didn’t need her anymore.”
“We’re both no stranger to this on and off relationship type thing.”
“Guess we’re not,” he snorted, his eyes flicking heavenwards. "But that was really part of the problem, right? No matter what Lilly did, no matter how much she hurt me, I couldn’t stop myself from taking her back because I fucking needed Lilly Kane in my life. And then everything just fell apart..."
"Things started to fall apart long before that already.” Veronica shifted slightly, scooting closer to him. “But we pulled through."
He lifted his arm, allowing her to slip in, curl against his side, rest her head against his shoulder.
"You seem to have some incredibly unwavering faith in us."
"We've been through a lot of shit. But we're here. Together. And I need to believe that this is not just because of Lilly’s death because, shit, if that's the case, then we're just each other's consolation prize. And I refuse to believe that."
"You're anything but a consolation prize, Veronica. You're the jackpot."
She sat back, fixing him with a questioning stare. “How can I be the jackpot if you’re sitting here, telling me that if Lilly was still alive, you would have gone back to her eventually?”
“I’m not trying to tell you that.”
"No? Then what was that about needing Lilly Kane in your life?"
Logan huffed as he sprung from the couch. He couldn't face her, otherwise he'd surely break… instead, he just restlessly paced the floor, gaze fixed on anything and everything, just not her.
"Aaron," he finally mumbled after a minute, "he always made me believe I was never enough. I could never do him justice. I didn’t deserve to wish and hope because I was just nothing. What I wanted was never important. Whenever he threw me a bone, I was to bark and fetch like a good little puppy, whether I wanted to or not. It was how the emperor ruled his kingdom. As long as I worked like a clockwork and bowed to the king, things were semi-okay. With Lilly… he never objected like he usually did with anything that concerned my life. He liked having her around the house. Guess we both know why that was. Lilly was my buffer. She was what kept him off my back and for that, I loved her.”
He turned around and fixed her with a stare so full of hurt and desperation, it broke her heart, yet at the same time fueled that anger, all that fury she was harboring towards this despicable human being who not only had murdered her best friend, but had abused and violated this broken boy who stood in front of her.
“I was a fucking pussy, cowering before the mighty Aaron Echolls and doing anything to please him so he would just stop…” Logan stopped mid-sentence and took a deep breath. “God, I’m such a fuck-up. Even from his grave, my father still manages to fuck with me. I'm done with this. I just want it to stop! I want to be me! I deserve to be me!”
“Then don’t let him!” she yelled frustratedly and sprung up from the couch, throwing her arms in the air and taking one tentative step towards him. “You are NOT nothing! You can be anything and anyone you want to be! Your father isn’t controlling you any longer. Anyone holding you back now is just you! So just stop all that fucking self-loathing already and do something about it!"
He blinked at her confused, taken aback by her sudden and unpredicted outburst. And just as sudden and unpredicted, he launched forward, all control lost. His lips came crushing down on hers, arms slung around her torso as he dragged her body towards his own. It took her a moment to register the sudden change, from utter despair to frenzied lust, as his hands fumbled desperately with the hem of her shirt, tugging, pulling, exposing her bare skin to his touch.
She responded greedily, fingers tangled in the short hair at the base of his neck, as she tugged him closer to her. They stumbled through the room aimlessly while shirts were hastily discarded, hands roamed over bodies, lips caressed bare skin… until the edge of the couch brought their desperate passion-induced frenzy to a halt and they both tumbled down in a heap of tangled bodies, arms and legs.
There was a frustrated huff, a pillow sent flying across the room, fingers diligently working on jeans buttons, bodies wriggling, shifting. And as suddenly as he’d taken possession of her, as suddenly, Logan stopped. With a long, shuddering sigh, he broke free from her and rested his forehead against hers.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have...”
“Don’t,” she cut him off immediately as she placed her palm against his cheek, thumb tenderly caressing the tiny crease next to his mouth.
"Classic Echolls move."
He rolled off to the side and, pushing himself up on his elbow, settled back against the cushions.
“This?” He pointed his thumb at his chest, the smirk plastered across his face trying to desperately mask the tortured boy that was hiding beneath the seemingly tough outer shell. “Total fuck-up. Always ready to ruin a perfectly good evening."
“This fuck-up can fuck me anytime,” she smiled at him saucily in an attempt to lighten the mood, and was answered with the cocky reply she was hoping for.
"Is that an invitation?"
"More of a promise," she quipped and patted his chest lightly. She remained silent for a few seconds, carefully assessing the moment, before deeming that it was okay to say what was weighing on her mind without risking another sudden onslaught of lips, mouth and hands on her body. Not that she'd object, far from it, because even desperate fucking with Logan was extremely satisfying. But it was just always lacking that little something extra he showered her with when there was nothing else on his mind but her. She took a deep breath, gaze fixed on him.
"I've had a lot of dreams about Lilly, you know…"
His eyes flicked upwards almost instantly and he sighed heavily, "And down the rabbit hole we go again."
“Always be careful when you open Pandora’s box.”
“You don't have to tell me about them if you don't want to. I don't need to know.”
His fingers tangled in her long, wavy curls, pushing the waywards strands tenderly over her shoulder.
"You brought this up, not me."
“I know and I shouldn’t have. No need to drag you down with me as well. You have to put up with enough Echolls shit already, as is.”
She leaned over and placed a quick kiss against his lips, “You wanna hear this.”
“I certainly don’t wanna hear about all those classic fab four what if stories that don’t involve you and me in more than just a friendship capacity,” he grimaced and rolled his eyes. "I'd take this current reality over any what could've beens any time."
“Ah, the unwavering faith in us,” she paused for a moment and just studied him before simply saying, “Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes 'would you and I have gotten together if Lilly was still around'. No doubt about it. Remember, you said I was hot when you first saw me. I'm a very charming person and people just cannot resist me. So suck it up, sugar lips. You were doomed to fall for me sooner or later."
“I still think you’re hot six years later," he smiled, lazily trailing a finger down her arm, drawing little squiggles along the way.
“Mmhmm, I thought you were just another annoying and scrawny 09er with an incredibly squeaky voice when I first met you.”
“Gee, thanks!” He pinched her slightly, causing her to squirm and giggle. “To my defense, I’d just gone through a growth spurt and my voice was breaking.”
“You were cute.”
“Were?”
“I’d describe you as the hot and sexy guy I'm having incredible sex with these days, but if you rather want me to call you a cuddly cutie patootie instead…”
“I’m stacked.”
“God you’re not!” she laughed, “You’re not allowed to call yourself stacked until you at least sport a six-pack.”
“I’ll show you my six-pack.”
He sucked in his breath, modeling the faint outline of muscles across his chest as he provocatively ran a hand down his bare chest.
“What six-pack?” she poked her finger at him, chuckling, “That’s a two-pack if I’m generous. Gotta work out some more, buddy.”
“Is there a point here to all this? I thought I heard you say I wanted to hear whatever it was you wanted to tell. Must have probably misheard cause I certainly do not wanna listen to you poking fun at my growing six-pack. I put a lot of work into this."
Veronica bit down on her lower lip, holding back the snarky comeback that was beckoning at her. Nope, she wasn't going to wander down that path. If she was, they'd be naked within minutes and humping like rabbits. This really needed to be said, or Pandora's box would remain wide open forever.
“The last time I saw Lilly… the night before graduation. I dreamed about what that day could've been like if she was still around."
He took to the shift in tone instantly, wriggling back into the pillows and making himself more comfortable next to her.
"She most definitely would've snuck in the champagne at the ceremony. Cause nothing beats the appeal of ‘O-be-joyful’ and -"
"- the ‘Dead Man’. Cheers to adulthood!" she laughed and made a mock cheers gesture with her hand. "Lilly, Duncan, you, me, we were all there. Still the fab four. Conquering the world like we always imagined we would. Best friends forever."
"Yeah, best friends and all that shit… Lilly and I, Duncan and you. Fab Four Forever."
"Except that it wasn’t like that. You weren’t with Lilly, and I wasn’t with Duncan.”
He just gazed at her for a moment, and she could see as the realization finally hit.
“You and I?”
“You and I.”
“After everything that happened last year, you dreamed about us?”
“Oh c’mon, it wasn’t me who dished out that whole speech about years, continents and bloodshed. That was all you, champ.”
“It was a mighty fine speech, wasn’t it?”
"It was truly epic," she snarked.
With a snort, Logan swiftly switched positions, pinning her under him as he towered over her, his grinning face just mere inches from hers.
"I hope you also dream about me during all those nights we're not together."
"I might," she replied as his lips brushed tenderly against the side of her neck.
"Do those dreams involve this?"
"Mmhm," she inhaled sharply as his mouth grazed over her shoulder, peppering her with tiny kisses, "among other things."
"And a bed?'
"That, not necessarily. But it sure does involve this."
Her hand slipped over his bare chest, down his abdomen, lower and lower, until her palm cupped him fully through his jeans and squeezed lightly.
"Dirty. I like it."
"Can we agree on something?" There was a sudden seriousness in her voice that made him stop his ministrations and lift his head to glance down at her. "No more talking about any what if 's. Ever."
"Sorry, babydoll, no can do." He shook his head and lazily trailed a finger over the swell of her breast, tracing the outline of her lace-trimmed bra. "What if I tug down this exquisite piece of almost nothing right now?"
"I'm serious," she moaned rather frustratedly as he dipped a finger beneath the satin material, tenderly caressing her.
"So am I."
"Logan."
He groaned irritated, placed a quick kiss against her shoulder, then rolled off of her and settled against the back of the couch again.
"We can't change the past, what's done is done. I'm happy with the here and now and I want it to stay that way. We'll deal with whatever shit is thrown our way. Might not always be that successful but we'll manage."
He smiled at her warmly, “'A real friend is one who walks in when the rest of the world walks out.' Walter Winchell."
"You do have a quote for everything, don’t you?"
"It's the curse of being the spawn of two actors. You memorize even the most ridiculous stuff. 'The things that make me different are the things that make me, me.' Piglet."
"'You’re braver than you believe, stronger than you seem and smarter than you think'," she smiled back at him. "Christopher Robin."
"'Some of the best moments in life are the ones you can’t tell anyone about.' Unknown."
"Okay," she paused for a moment, trying to think about a perfect comeback quote, but eventually came up short. "I've got nothing."
"'We can know only that we know nothing. And that is the highest degree of human wisdom.' Leo Tolstoy."
"Smartass," she laughed and slapped his shoulder.
"Are we good?"
"I'm lying half-naked on your couch, what do you think?"
He licked his lips in anticipation, "That I'd like to take off the rest of those clothes."
She rolled her eyes dramatically, then leaned over and kissed him. Slowly at first, lips brushing gently against lips, but soon more insistently, passionately as they got lost in each other. Fingers trailing over bare skin languidly, exploring, devouring, until they reached their object of desire, and the clasp of her bra snapped open almost instantly.
"Not on the couch," she gasped when the satin piece of clothing was pushed off her body and his mouth found that rosy piece of flesh, claiming her greedily. "Maybe I should tell you about this other dream I had."