I’m engaged and in love…

But not with the same man. I know. I’m a horrible person.

It’s complicated.

The guy I’m engaged to is sweet, patient and predictable. He treats me right, and puts my feelings first. He’s what any girl would want. Except me. I love him but as a friend. Bobby was there for me when Logan was gone. On a search for his past. Bobby got everyone to see me for who I was, not the mutant with deadly skin. I know he loves me, even though he still flinches when I touch him. But at times I wonder if he’s as in love with me as he says he is. But he’s safe. I know what I have with him.

I guess it all comes down to being scared. I’m scared of sacrificing what’s safe for something I want. For someone who doesn’t want me.

The guy I’m in love with ain’t in love with me. I’m just ‘kid’ to him. A responsibility.

The first time I saw him, I felt something. He was the definition of masculinity. Shirtless, tight jeans, sweat sliding down his back as he beat the crap out of some dumbass who thought he had a chance. It didn’t take long for that feeling to turn into love. He cared for me, if even just a little, when every one else gave up.

But he doesn’t love me. Not the way I love him.

---

I got a women in my bed and I’m in love…

But it’s not the same person. I know. I’m an asshole.

But it’s fucking complicated.

The girl I’m in love with isn’t in love back. I’m just her savior. Her hero. Her protector.

The first time I saw her, she looked at me with wide eyed innocence. Once I got close enough to her I could tell that she was young, ’bout seventeen, and anything but innocent. She was wise beyond her years. It turns out she’d been on the road for a couple months. By herself. It pisses me off thinking about all the shit she saw and propositions she was given. I thank whoever is up there for her skin. Kept her safe from the scum I know are out there.

She was the first person to give a shit about me. Watch out for me. She cared for me and no matter how much I fought it, I cared for her too. It wasn’t long before caring turned into love. But I’m just best friend Logan, nothing more. When was I ever someone’s friend, let alone best friend? Shit, she’s made me too soft. But I don’t mind because she’s good for me.

But she doesn’t love me. Not the way I love her.

---

I stare at him when he's sleeping. I shouldn't be here, beside him in bed. Someone who loves him the way he deserves should be here.

I feel like I’m cheating. On who? I can't tell you.

Am I cheating on Bobby for wanting to be with Logan or am I cheating on Logan because I loved him long before Bobby. Or maybe I'm just cheating myself.

Cheating myself out of a life I want more than anything but I’m just too scared to even try and admit my feelings.

But Logan doesn't want me that way. I know that. but I still want him. I still need him. I’m stuck. Do I stay with the man that treats me right, who loves me just because the man I want to be with doesn't want me. How is that fair to Bobby? Or do I leave him? if not to have Logan but to set Bobby free? Let him have a chance with someone who loves him, needs him and not just the security he offers.

He wants to have kids. Bobby.

I can't do it.

I can't imagine being tied to him like that for the rest of our lives. Once we have kids the two of us will always be connected. I don’t want to be connected to him. Not like that.

---

She's happy with that Drake kid. Engaged and from what I hear talking 'bout starting a family. How could I ruin that by telling her my true feelings for her? I'm supposed to be her friend. Her best friend. How could I ruin her world like that?

If I told her, not only would I be putting her in an awkward position with Bobby but I’ll be putting our friendship on rocky ground. I can't do that. I don't care for a lot of things in this world but my friendship with Marie is the most important thing I have, and I rather have her friendship than nothing at all.

Now can you see why I can't tell her?

Fuck. I was fine before I met her. I had nobody and I was fine. I had nothing but a camper and I was fine. Now that she came and forced her way into my life, I can't have it any other way. I can't go back to life without Marie. I can't. I won't.

She makes me feel human, cared for, wanted. Hell, she just plain makes me feel. She tames the beast within me. Though lately he has become a little restless. Upset with me for not claiming her. He wants her just as much as I do. I could claim her if I wanted, but I don't. I want her, no, I need her to want me.

---

Lately every time he kisses me I feel horrible. I hate myself. Because every time he leans in to kiss me, I close my eyes and wish it was really Logan. When we're in bed together I can't help wonder how Logan’s touch would feel. How he was in bed? I know he wouldn't be like Bobby. Bobby turns it into a procedure. Step one: make sure I am covered up head to toe. Step two: make sure he is covered, which makes no sense to me. I mean I’m covered why does he have to be too. Then I remember. He is still terrified of my skin. Step three: make love but his eyes are always cautious. Looking and checking over my body to make certain there is no possibility of accidental skin on skin touch. Sometimes I feel like a glorified sex doll.

Ok I know I’m getting a little personal here but he hasn't even gone down on me. Ever. I tried to reassure him that there are ways to be safe. Ways around my mutation but he doesn't want to hear it. He insist that it's 'too risky'. I even offered to 'take care' of him. You know? His eyes nearly bulged out of his head and he actually grabbed himself there as if I kneed him in the balls. I guess that was a no.

You want to know the saddest part. The part that depresses me and breaks my heart. I gained control of my mutation a month ago. Yup. No one knows except for the professor and he promised he wont tell anyone.

Why haven't I told Bobby?

Simple. He doesn't deserve to know. He never trusted me with my own skin. He always acted like I was waiting for the perfect opportunity to drain him dry. And lately it’s been getting worse.

I want to tell Logan. He deserves to know. Whenever I’m around him he never once made me remember that I had poison skin. It was easy to forget what my mutation was around him. He never flinched or hesitated when he touched me. Makes me love him more. God. Why can't he love me. Why?

---

Fuck.

All these nameless women are starting to get to me. No matter who I bring into my bed, I can't get my mind off of her. How sick and twisted am I? I’m trying to forget her by fuckin’ all these women who throw themselves at me in the bar when I’m trying to consume as much whiskey as possible, another thing I do to try to forget her. Nothing works.

I never let them look at me when I fuck them, easier to imagine it's Marie I’m with, when their face isn’t in mine.

Easy to imagine that the girl I’m with has mahogany hair with bolts of white framing her face. Easy to imagine that she has the chocolate brown eyes that can swallow me whole. Easy to imagine her pale, creamy, unmarred skin. She is fast becoming a drug for me. A fix I need daily.

How fucked up am I?

I could hear the wolverine. In the back of my mind. Whispering. Calling me names. Coward. Weakling. Pussy. Every so often he screams out ‘grow a pair and go get our girl’. If it was anyone else I would have flirted and complimented until I chipped away at any doubts they had at being with me. But this is Marie. She knows me inside and out yet she still likes having me around. I wouldn’t want to convince her to be with me.

I wish she could wake up one day and decide that she really isn't in love with the ice prick. That's it me her heart belongs to. I fucked up at a lot of things but I would be able to love her. To treat her right. To make her happy.

---

Bobby got hurt.

We were on a mission. Seemed simple enough. Rescue some mutants being held against their will. We done it tons of times. Except it was a trap. We managed to gain the upper hand and escape but not without some injury to the team. Storm had a broken arm. Remy looked like he might have a broken nose. Scott was bruised up pretty bad. But Bobby got the worst of it. He got shot and lost a lot of blood.

They brought him to the medlab but he passed out and was unconscious for a while.

I cried. A lot and hard. I just couldn't help think that he could’ve died. He could be dead and never know what it was like to truly be loved. I didn’t love him. I mean I love him but I’m not in love with him. He needs to be loved. I can't keep using him as my security blanket. I have to let him go. For him.

So I’m here. By his bed, in the medlab waiting for him to wake up. So I can break his heart and end my relationship with him. I hope he forgives me.

---

Shit. I didn’t know how much she needed the iceman. He got shot when we went out to help some mutants. Turned out it was a fucking set-up. An ambush. Fucking FOH trying to take out the X-men, believing it would be easier to go after mutants if their saviors where out of the picture.

Anyway Drake got hurt. Marie just broke down crying. I never saw her so sad and hopeless. If I had know how much she needed him, I would have watched out for him. Took the bullet myself so she wouldn't be crying now.

I can see her. She's in the medlab sitting next to him, holding his hand. She keeps muttering 'you could have died. I’m sorry.' I don't know why she's blaming herself. It's not like she could have done anything to prevent it.

I could tell by his breathing that he was going to wake up soon, so I left them alone. I don’t want to be around when they start professing their love for each other.

Shit. I need to get over her.

I think I should go for a while. Get outta here. Get away from the mansion, the X-Geeks, the kids. Get away from everything that reminds me of her. Reminds me of how I can’t be with her. Maybe if I got away from her for awhile, I’ll be able to let her go. Not love her anymore.

Oh fuck. Who am I kidding?

I may never get over her, but I can’t watch her with him anymore. It hurts too fuckin’ much. It’s a foreign type of pain for me. I can’t heal from this. It just keeps hurting. A tightening in my chest that won’t go away. It renders me breathless at times. I need to get away. I need to go. I need to take a fuckin breathe. I need to let it go. I need to let her go. I have to let her go once and for all.

I love her but I’ll never have her, because she’ll never love me.

---

He started to wake up and I started to panic.

It’s not everyday that you plan on breaking up with your fiancé … in the medlab … after he got shot. Oh my god! Who does this?

But then he shocked the hell out of me. He took it pretty well. Sure he was hurt but he wasn’t devastated. In fact, after I explained (and apologized) that even though I loved him dearly as a friend, I wasn’t in love with him and I couldn’t hurt him anymore, he actually thanked me.

He thanked me for letting him go. Sometimes he’s too much of a gentlemen. I know he wanted to yell or at the very least call me a horrible name, bitch comes to mind, but Bobby is too sweet and proper to do such things. I’m just happy Bobby doesn’t completely hate me.

Even though Bobby doesn’t hate me, it’s been a little awkward for me in the mansion. Naturally in a house full of mutants, most of them teenagers, the news that I broke up with Bobby while he was recovering from a gunshot wound spread like wildfire. I heard them whispering about me.

Some called me names. My favorite was ‘Barracuda’. As if.

Some pitied me. ‘Poor Rogue. Can’t touch so she pushes away anyone who gets close.’

Others ignored me, thinking I was heartless and had no class.

To make matters worst, Logan’s gone. Picked up and left. Said something about staying still too long and needed to wander. He’ll be back. I know he will. Left his tags on his bed where I could find them.

You know that’s not such a bad idea. Picking up and leaving. I need to get away. A mini vacation. Finally go check out Alaska.

This way I could give Bobby some space, let the rumors about me die down, and find myself again. I need to decide how I’m going to live my life. I could go with option A) live like a nun or option B) Become a female Logan. Have meaningless sex with people I find mildly attractive. Why only those two options? Because I am deeply in love with Logan. No one will ever come close so why even try.

So I packed up my old duffle bag that I haven’t seen in years, but kept because of sentimental reasons, put on my green, worn but still warm hooded jacket and headed for my truck.

Poor truck has seen better days. Banged up and rusted but with a reliable engine that Logan worked on himself. I learned to drive in this truck. I feel comfortable in this truck.

I’m on the road, just leaving the mansion gates when a few tears leak down my face.

I miss my best friend. Already. He hasn’t been gone a week and I miss him. We were always together. I’ll miss him while I’m gone. Mostly I’ll miss the idea of us. What I wanted us to be. I have to accept that we will never be. I may want us to be more. Hell, I even wished for it. Prayed for it late at night. But it’s time to realize that even though I love him, we’ll never be, because he doesn’t love me. Doesn’t want me. Doesn’t see me as anything more than ‘Kid’, his friend.

And it hurts.

I can’t forget him. No matter how hard I try.

It seemed like a good idea. Get away from everything that reminded me of him.

But alone in my truck, with only the road for company, my mind always wanders to him. I could put the radio on again, but it has proved to be nothing but a traitor. Every song a reminder of new love, lost love or unrequited love. Every song a reminder of my feelings for him.

So I’ve decided to give up and give in. Instead of running from my feelings for him. Instead of ignoring it (which really isn’t working), I’ve decided to embrace it. Maybe be it’s one of those things that instead of avoiding it, you have to let it run it’s course. Like a cold. Maybe I have no clue what I’m talking about.

---

I now understand the saying ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’. I’ve been away from her for three weeks now, just three weeks, and there’s not a fucking second that goes by that she’s not on my mind. I haven’t even called. I’m a bastard.

I shouldn’t have left her like that. She’s come to depend on our friendship.

Friendship. How I come to hate and love the word.

Hate it ’cause that’s all I’ll ever have with her and love it ’cause at least I have that. It’s better than nothing. Yet I picked up and left. Left her. At least for a little while. Until I can get over the urge to devour her lips and run my hands over her body every time she enters a room. And shit what a body she has. All hard and tight and curvy at the same time with … Fuck I’m gonna be gone for a while.

---

I only drive a couple of hours each day. I’m in no rush. Every town I stop at I do the same thing. Check into a cheap motel before heading for the nearest bar where I order a Molson and enjoy a cigar. The smell of the tobacco combined with the lager reminds me so much of him.

My hand instinctively goes to his tags that are back around my neck. I miss him.

I look forward to every night where I can disappear in the back of some bar and think about him.

Every bar I stop at there is always that one person, male or female, that asks what my story is. If I’m feeling generous and slightly buzzed I’ll tell them.

Spill my heart out to some stranger about love. About a women who’s heart will be forever wasted on a man who will only see her as the eternal friend. As ‘kid’.

---

I’ve started following the fighting circuit again.

Making my rounds from bar to bar as the infamous Wolverine, beating my frustrations away on every drunk trucker who actually believes he has a chance against me.

I passed a store window the other day. Had a display of hats, jewelry and gloves. I froze mid-step, forgetting how to breathe. I couldn’t believe the sight of elbow length black gloves on a headless mannequin tore at my heart.

I miss her. So fucking much. I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.

When I’m around her I have to see her with him. See her with his ring on. Claimed by him. Marked as his. Sometimes I catch myself wondering what does he have that I don’t.

Yeah. The Wolverine jealous of some punk kid.

Is it because he’s not an animal? Is it because he’s her age? Hell, is it because he knows his age? Maybe that’s it. Who wants to start a future with someone who can’t remember his past?

But…

When I put distance between us, she’s all I think about. She invades my every thought. Last week I even found myself sitting close to a women at a bar because she smelled vaguely of vanilla.

I’ll admit it. I have it bad for her. Gladly die a million times for her. Gladly die permanently for her. My heart beats for her only. Yet she loves someone who ain’t me.

---

I thought of Bobby the other day.

About how that would most likely be my only relationship, even if it was based on lies and mistrust.

I don’t blame him. Well, I don’t blame only him. It was me too. I know that. I think we got caught up in being the new mansion ‘it’ couple. I bet the break-up came out of left field for my friends. They had no clue that I wasn’t in love with him. That the whole time I was with him, I was in love with another. Still am. They just took the smiling faces and hand holding for face value.

They wanted us to happy, to work because we were cute together. And I think we bought into it. Bobby probably liked the popularity that came with being the second favorite couple of the mansion (of course Jean and Scott took first place). He always did like being the center of attention. I like that I was part of something normal.

But even that got old after a while. I learned, with the professor’s help, to accept myself, love myself, poison skin and all. I grew up. Once I did that, finding the switch that controlled my skin actually seemed doable. Then it was done. After months of meditation and battling internal demons, I did it. Turned my skin off.

And the first person I thought of touching was not Bobby. It was Logan. The man I will always love. Even with the knowledge that he will never return those feelings.

---

Fuck. I need to get into the cage. I need to fight but the town I was in didn’t have any action going down tonight.

I need to pound the shit outta some dumb fuck. So I made a few calls, found a fight and secured my spot on the roster.

Driving to the fight my mind wanders to Marie. Nothing new there. She’s always on my mind. From the moment I wake up to the moment I go to sleep. I wonder what she’s doing. If she’s on a mission. Is she being safe. My Marie has a tendency to storm into dangerous situations intent on kicking ass. She loves a good fight. Only one in the damn mansion that can hold their own with me when we spar.

I’ve been thinking lately. What if Marie is the closet I’ll get to love.

I mean look at me. Rough, tough, mean. Hairy, big, scary. A mutant with razor sharp claws. I don’t let anybody close to me. Even the few who get within arm distance don’t see me. Don’t want to know me. Marie did. She saw what I could do and still choose to trust me. Choose to make me her best friend. She tore down every damn one of my well placed defenses with a single smile.

I’m afraid she may be the great love of my life and I’ll never get to experience it.

I finally arrived. I walk in like I own the place. Once at the cage I pay my way in. These days I don’t care about the winnings. I put them into a bank account that I opened years ago ( I don’t see the sense in walking around with thousands in your pocket), that only Marie knows about. I’m up now, so I toss my shirts and jacket to a chair and step into the familiar cage intent on beating my troubles away.

It’s funny, being back in Laughlin City, where it all started.

---

My nightly ritual now consist of a beer, a cigar, and a good cry. I’ve been crying a lot at night this past week.

Crying over something I want but am destined to never have. Mourning a lover’s touch.

Sure Bobby and I had sex. But it wasn’t romantic. No the word I would use would be … clinical. Yeah, that or procedural. More out of habit or obligation and a need to come rather than an intimate act.

And even if Logan does touch me. It’ll be a hug or a handshake, maybe even a kiss on the cheek. Not what I really want from him. I know your probably thinking that what I really want is for him to ravage me. Although that is on my list, it isn’t number one. Nope. What I really want is for him to kiss me.

I never had a kiss before. Cody doesn’t count. Barely had my lips pressed to his when my mutation decided to show up and drain him. Bobby doesn’t count either. He kissed me once without a scarf between us. It was so cold, I honestly couldn’t feel a thing. So I want Logan to kiss me. I want him to be my first (and always) real kiss. But then again I also want season tickets to the Maple Leafs and human-mutant peace. Doesn’t mean that I’ll get it.

I stop singing along with the radio (I gave in and put it back on), so I can start figuring out where I am. It’s about that time that I secure a decent room for the night before I head to the closet bar and drown my sorrows.

I let out dry laugh when I notice where I am. Right outside a huge tin building surrounded by semi’s and trucks. A place better known as Laughlin City.

Shit might as well go in. Have a drink in the place that started it all.

The moment I walk in I see that they still hold cage fights. Then I see him. Logan. Shirtless, beating the crap out of some big muscular trucker. A sense of déjà vu hits me and I forget how to breathe. My heart is pounding so hard I can barely hear the roar of the crowd over it.

It figures. I’m on a vacation to try to, if not get over Logan to at least get control of my feelings for him. To get over wanting to jump him every time I see him, get over the heartache I feel knowing that I’m not what he wants. It figures that I would bump into him.

I try to sneak out of there. I don’t want him to treat me as his friend and feel rejection when he does. The crowd is thick and it’s hard to make my way through. I kept looking behind me to make sure he hasn’t spotted me. Suddenly, everyone cheers and I just know he knocked the guy out. I turn in time to see him sniff deeply. A instant later he turns and is staring right at me. I think my legs have turn to jelly. He’s surprised but it flashes across his face so quick you’d have to truly know him to catch it. He furrows his brow and makes a beeline for me.

Guess I’m not leaving here undetected.

The universe is cruel.

---

I’m in the middle of my set, beating the hell outta some prick who is more width than height, when I smell it. Vanilla. Nothing new. I’ve smelled it before in a place like this, just not often.

Just as I knocked the guy out. I catch the scent again but this time with a hint of lavender and another distinct smell. One that belongs only to …

I turn quickly and I spot her instantly. Marie. In the middle of a screaming crowd of bums, lowlifes, truckers and women out for a good time. This one pure thing in the middle of chaos. I’m surprised that she’s even here. She’s supposed to be at the mansion with the icicle.

I collect my winnings quickly and grab my shirts and jackets, putting them on. The crowd moves the hell outta my way as I make my way to her.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, a little more harshly than I intended. I’m just so fucked shocked to see here in this place … again.

“Nothing. Just driving through, saw it and thought I’d come in. See if it changed. Sorta reminisce a little.”

“Driving through? Long way from Westchester, kid.” Maybe if I call her that enough times I’ll convince myself she is one. Yeah fucking right.

“I thought I’d finally take that trip to Alaska. Kinda like a vacation.” God she smells so good. Her scent is clouding my head. I can barely take in her words.

I’m about to ask her where her beloved frostbite is, when the crowds screams as another fight is started. I grab her arm and gesture towards the door with my head and lead her outside.

---

We talked for a little bit. He asked a few questions and surprisingly enough I answered them. I wasn’t even sure if I could speak or make coherent sentences. The moment he was close to me, my body felt warm and I couldn’t hold his gaze for more than a second or two. I felt foolish.

I’m a grown women and yet around him I become a shy teenager, love sick over the new boy band. Except this ain’t no boy, he is all man. But I still find myself fidgeting with my hands, which are gloved not out of necessity but for warmth.

When he led me outside so we could hear each other over the crowd screaming for blood from the new set of fighters, I tripped. I fucking tripped. I hope he didn’t notice. I don’t want him thinking I’m just some awkward kid. I’m just nervous. Being around him makes me nervous.

I worry about everything around him. Where my hands are, what my hands are doing, what I’m wearing, is there something in my teeth, did I have any garlic or onions for lunch, etc., etc..

Once outside in the freezing Canada air, he looks around as if trying to find someone. Then he turns to me.

“Hey kid,” I cringe at his name for me. “You here by yourself?” When I nod, he asks, “Where’s your man?” I had to take a deep breathe there before I blurted out ‘right in front of me’ and embarrass the hell out of myself and make things awkward between us.

“You have a room? It’s a long story and I’m freezing out here already.” And to prove my point, big heavy snowflakes starts to fall.

“No, but I know where we can get one.” I followed him as he drives the bike he ‘borrowed’ from Scott, to the parking lot of the Blue Hills Lodge. In the time it took for me to grab my duffel bag from the truck bed, Logan walked out of the main room waving keys in my direction. I followed him as he made his way past the doors, noticing he only has one set of keys. Are we sharing a room?

“This is us.” he says, confirming my suspicions, as he stops in front of room 212. He opens the door and I follow him in. I noticed two clean queen sized beds. The room is nice, decent but most importantly warm.

I could do this. I could share a room with the man I love and have it be completely platonic. Innocent even. Not once will I think about … well, all the dirty thoughts that have kept me company for a long time. Just as I tell myself that, he kicks his shoes off and pulls his shirts up over his head. I swear it happened in slow motion, at least for me it did. All that hard, tight muscle wrapped in flawless bronze skin being revealed to me. Thank goodness his back was to me, so he didn’t catch me staring.

“I really want to hear what you got to say but I need a shower first. I got all types of shit on me after the fights today.” I tell him ok after I quickly look at my shoes. As he heads to the bathroom he undoes his buckle, letting it hang open before moving to the button on his jeans. Before he can start working on the zipper he’s in the bathroom, door locking behind him.

Suddenly the room is a little too hot. After that little impromptu, unintentional sexy strip show, I need to go outside. Get cooled off. Get some air. Get myself under control. It would be really difficult to explain to Logan why he smells arousal on me. I grab the keys and head outside for a quick walk.

---

Once in the room, I claim the bed closest to the door. I hear the wolverine yell ‘It’s not the bed you should be claiming’.

I’m about to sit down and listen to whatever excuse she has for traveling through Canada alone when I smell myself. I smell of sweat and blood. Some mine but mostly my opponents.

I’m in the shower when I hear the door open and close. I hurry out to catch up with her. I thought she left because of whatever is on her mind but I see her duffel bag on the bed and I know she’ll be back, so I jump back in. She probably went to get something to eat. When I’m done I wrap a towel around myself and go through my knapsack for a pair of sweatpants. I usually sleep nude but since Marie is here, I’ll put something on.

I hear the rustling of keys as she tries to open the door. Then I hear them drop and then her curse. I laugh. As graceful as she is in the danger room or on a mission she is such a klutz. Always tripping or breaking things or, like now, dropping things. I open the door for her. She has five plastic bags in her hands. She mutters a thanks then walks past me into the room.

“What the hell is all this?” She dumped everything onto the little round table in the corner.

“Its for later. To drown our troubles and to celebrate. Something I desperately need to do.” She says as she pulls out two six-packs of Molson’s and four bottles of whiskey. I give her a look. “What? I know it takes a lot to get you drunk. I just want to sit back with my friend, who I’ve missed so very much, have a couple drinks and talk.” She hugs me and my heart does a fucking somersault. “But first I need to take a shower also. After driving all day, I’m kinda smell ripe.” I think she smell great.

She jumps into the shower after grabbing clothes and a shitload of bottles and jars. I go through the rest of the bags. Pretzels, chips, chocolate bars, and a bottle of soda. I guess we’re having a fuckin’ party. I turn the TV on and find a hockey game on.

After a while I hear the door to the bathroom open, then I smell vanilla and lavender. I look up and I nearly choke. She’s so fucking sexy. Her hair is damp, hanging in limp waves and she has no makeup on. She’s wearing black cotton gloves, a faded green t-shirt and smiley face boxer shorts. By her movement I can tell she doesn’t have a bra on and her legs are bare. Long, pale and incredibly sexy legs that I want wrapped around my waist.

I should have gotten two rooms. How am I supposed to sleep with her in the same room with her looking like that.

---

Once I get out of the shower, which was thankfully hot, I grab two beers and hand one to him. I sit on my bed and watch the game. Occasionally I glance over at him, sitting on his bed. He’s only wearing sweatpants and that’s it. No socks, no shirt, and I know he doesn’t wear underwear. He’s gorgeous. After a couple of beers, two for me and four for him, he speaks.

“So, you gonna tell me why your traveling by yourself? Where’s Drake?” He doesn’t take his eyes off the game.

“I needed to get out. Get away for awhile. Plus you know I always wanted to see Alaska.” I take a sip of my beer, finishing it. I open a third before I answer his second question. “As for Bobby. I’m pretty sure he’s back at the mansion.”

“How come he didn’t come with you.” I sigh. Not because I’m sad but how do I explain that I left Bobby because I was in love with him. Hmm.

“Well I doubt he would want to go anywhere with his ex.” Logan muted the TV and swung his legs around so he was sitting on the bed facing me.

“He broke up with you. That little prick. You want me to kick his ass?”

“Whoa. Logan. I left him.” He furrowed his brow. Even when he’s confused he’s sexy.

“Really? Why? I thought you were happy with him.”

“I wasn’t. I never loved him. I care about him … as a friend, but I was never in love with him.” He looks sad. I wonder why.

“Marie, why you get engaged to him then.”

“I dunno. I guess … promise me you won’t think I’m a bitch.” He promised so I continued. “I was afraid that he was as good as it got for me. So I took it. And even though he wasn’t what I wanted, I let myself be with him because what I wanted wasn’t possible. But then he got shot and I thought it wasn’t fair for him to be with someone who didn’t love him so I broke up with him. Gave him the ring back and everything.” I waved my hand at him.

“What was it that you wanted?” Oh shit. Why’d he have to ask that question?

“I don’t want to get into it right now.”

“Fair enough. Hey… you want me to kick his ass anyway.” I couldn’t help but laugh.

---

Shit.

Not only is she sitting there looking so fucking beautiful and smelling delicious but she’s now single also.

We drink the rest of the beers occasionally digging into a bag of pretzels or chips. We talk about what I’ve been doing (fighting), and what she’s been doing (driving, sightseeing, bar hopping). I know that she’s on the drunk side of tipsy and I’m just now starting to feel a buzz. Then I remember that we were supposed to be celebrating something.

“So this is what we’re celebrating. That you’re single now.” I ask.

“No. There is another reason.” She sounds all mysterious as she gets up and grabs two bottles of whiskey. “Here.” she says as she hands one to me.

“So. What is it?” She doesn’t look at me. Instead she takes a long swig from the bottle, takes a look at her gloves, then takes another swig.

“Ok. Don’t freak out about what I’m gonna tell you…And for the time being I want to keep it between us. Well, and the professor. He knows but he ain’t telling.” She got me so nervous by now that I drink half the bottle in one shot. She takes one more drink from the bottle, then takes a deep breath. “Something happened a couple months ago.” She pulls her gloves off, and I swear it’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen.

“Marie, what’s up?”

“You trust me?” I’m a little offended that she even has to ask.

“Yeah. You’re the only one I trust a hundred percent, you know that.” Even if she is acting a little strange right now.

“Give me your hand.” I extend my arm and wait as she takes another shot of whiskey. I can smell how nervous and anxious she is. Her hand hovers above mine for a second and then she’s touching me. No pull. No blinding pain of her mutation. I’m floored.

“You finally got control.” Her skin is the softest thing I’ve ever touched. I pick up the faint smell of salt and look up to see tears falling down her face but she’s still smiling. I go to pull my hand away, just to wipe her tears away, but she whimpers and holds on tighter to me.

“No. Don’t. I … I’m sorry. It’s just you’re the first person I’ve touched since I got control. I just miss touching someone that’s all. I … I don’t want to stop just yet.” That’s fine with me. Now that I’ve finally touched her, I don’t want to stop.

---

Wow.

I’m actually touching someone … and it’s Logan.

I was half expecting his hands to be rough but it’s pretty smooth. I guess his healing factor takes care of calluses also. For as long as I live I will always remember this moment. I almost forgot what it was like to touch skin. The hair on his hand and wrist tickles my fingers but I don’t want to let go of him just yet. I intertwine my fingers with his as we sit back on his bed.

We drank more whisky and ate more chips, laughing about how weird it was that we found each other, again, in Laughlin. The whole time I never let go of his hand. After finishing all those beers and a whole bottle of whiskey, I was well past drunk and on my way to plastered. The hockey game had just finished and I was feeling drowsy. Logan was getting close to being drunk after finishing two whiskey bottles and working on his third.

“You’ve been able to touch for months…” His voice snapped my eyes open. I wasn’t sleeping but I was getting there. I’m not sure if it was a question or a fact so I muttered a ‘yeah’. “How come you never touch the popsicle?” I laugh. He always has some demeaning, yet funny little nickname for Bobby.

“I didn’t want to. He didn’t deserve to be the first person I touched.” Wow. That made me sound like such a bitch. “I mean… we were dysfunctional together. I already told you, I was never in love with him. We used each other. He was part of the new ‘it’ couple and I got to be a part of something normal. Something I thought I would never have.

But then I could touch. I could touch for almost two months before I broke it off Bobby. Two months where I pretended that I couldn’t. Wearing gloves and long sleeves when I didn’t need to. All because I didn’t want to think back to the day I finally touched someone and think of him. Think of someone who didn’t mean a lot to me. I mean I could have told you sooner or even Jubes or Kitty but what would I have said. ‘hey I could finally touch. Just don’t tell my fiancé. I don’t wanna have to touch him.’” He was quiet for a while, thinking over everything I just told him. I love that about him. That he really listens to me. Takes in everything I say. Pays attention.

“You still could have told me. I wouldn’t have said anything. You know that, don’t you? You know you can trust me with anything. Anything at all.”

“Yeah. I know, sugah. I was just confused about a lot of things.”

“And your not anymore?” I laugh.

“Still confused, just not about that.” He chuckles. A deep rumbling sound in his chest. God he’s sexy. I lift my head and give him a kiss on the cheek, not on his muttonchops but on his skin, near his lips. Then I smile at him, all stupid and dreamy. What the fuck am I doing? I must be drunk.

“What was that for?” He sounds surprised.

“Umm.. I always wanted to give you a kiss for saving my life, but I couldn’t without hurting you. Now I can, so I did.” Yeah, that didn’t sound lame. But it’s true.

I’m so tired. My brain is fuzzy and feels waterlogged and I feel like my reaction time is on a ten second delay. My head slides against the headboard and lands on his bare shoulder. It feels warm against my head. I yawn. My eyelids feel so heavy. I know I’m about ten seconds away from falling asleep when he talks again, quietly.

“What was it that you wanted? What was it that you thought wasn’t possible?” Damn him and his damn curiosity. I am never getting drunk with him again, because right before I fall asleep (or maybe ‘pass out’ is a better term) I mutter “You.”

I’m sitting in a chair near the little round table, watching her sleep in the bed that I claimed. My heart is racing and my leg hasn’t stopped shaking since I sat down.

She said she wanted me.

She said it. Granted she was drunk. The drunkest I have ever seen her. And she said it right before she passed out. But she did say it.

She wasn’t lying. I didn’t smell it on her. The question that has my nerves in a ball is, did she mean to tell me? And why hasn’t she told me before. She said the whole reason she went out with snowflake was because she was afraid she’d never have what she really wanted. Me. They got together years ago. That means she wanted me for years and never said anything. Why?

‘Don’t forget bub, you wanted her just as long, if not longer. Why didn’t you say something?’ Shit when did the wolverine get all insightful. He has a point though. I was scared. Yup, me. Scared. I didn’t want to ruin what we had by telling her I love her. Plus I never wanted to have her reject me. She’s young, gorgeous, sexy, incredibly smart, funny and perfect. Why would she ever want me. The only thing I’m good at is kicking ass.

But she does want me. She said it herself. Shit. Will she even remember that she said it? She was really gone when she said it. What if she doesn’t remember? Will I have to remind her? Or will I have to pretend she didn’t say a word? Pretend she didn’t just give me reason in this world. Pretend she didn’t just make me happy, truly happy, for the first time in my miserable remembered life.

Both options scare the shit outta me.

I get up and walk towards her. She’s sleeping on her side, taking deep slow breaths. She looks so peaceful. But right now I don’t care. I’m waking her up. It’s been one hour since she passed out right after she spun my world. I’ve been sitting here with too many questions floating around in my head. I’m getting some answers.

---

I’m having one of those dreams were you know it’s a dream but because it’s going so good you don’t care. I’m with Logan by a lake, not much different than the one at the mansion. He’s sitting on a towel, chest and feet bare, smoking a cigar as he watches me. I’m in the water. Swimming. Playing. Splashing. It’s a beautiful day. I lay on my back and just float along, watching the clouds as they take on familiar shapes.

Suddenly Logan’s face is hovering over mine. He’s shaking me softly. He saying something softly to me. I can’t make it out because all of a sudden my head feels foggy. He shakes me again, a little more forceful this time, and I start to wake up. He keeps whispering “Marie. Wake up.” I’m fully awake now.

He helps me to sit up in the bed. I have a slight headache and my throat and mouth are dry. As if reading my mind, he hands me a bottle of soda, which I drink quickly. I run my hand over my face to wake myself up a little.

“What? What happened?” I ask, my voice raspy with sleep. I look around, not sure what I’m expecting to see but there has to be a good reason for him to wake me up at … 2:17 in the morning. “Logan, there better be a fire or some psycho intent on doing us bodily harm for you to wake me up at this time. I’m tired and I drank alot. I should be sleeping.” I go to lay down again but I stop when he speaks.

“We need to talk.” He says seriously. Why? What do we need to talk about? Then it all comes rushing back.

‘What was it that you wanted? What was it that you thought wasn’t possible?’

‘You.’

Had I really said it out loud. Shit. I did. I hate whiskey. I hate it. I hate it. Never touching it again. Grandma always said that liquor was a poor man’s Sodium Pentothal.

“You ok? If your drunk or hung-over you can touch me. Just enough to clear your head because we have to talk.”

“No. No I’m good. Let’s just talk.” Even though a minute ago I was still feeling the effects of the alcohol, I find myself stone cold sober suddenly. He’s sitting on the bed across from me, in an exact reversal of positions of when I told him about Bobby. He locks eyes with me for a moment before he speaks.

“So…what you wanted was me?” It’s funny. The night started out innocent enough. Just a chance to reminisce and have a drink or two alone. Looks like it gonna end with a confession of love. Shit. I don’t know what to do or say. I never thought this day would ever come. I just assumed that the fact that I loved him would go with me to my grave.

I take a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. I’ve never lied to him. Ever. Sure I might’ve held things in, like the fact that I love him, but I’ve never told him an out right lie.

“Yeah. It was you.” I manage to say to the carpet.

---

“Was me or is me?” I ask her, hoping like hell she still does. She looks up at me, staring me straight in the eyes.

“Is you.” I can’t breathe.

“How come you never said anything before?” She rolls her eyes at me.

“Come on Logan. I know how you saw me when we first met. I was a kid to you. Then I became your friend, your best friend. Shit. Your only real friend. I loved that you let me get that close. That you trusted me and only me. You accept me for who I am. You never made me feel like I should be quarantined because of my skin. You just let me be.” She gets up off the bed and starts to pace. She runs her hand through her hair, trying to get it out of her face before she continues.

“How could I ruin that by telling you that I want you. How could I ruin everything that meant something to me by trying to make it more. Then Bobby came along. He wanted to be with me and I saw it as my only shot at a relationship. I only wanted you but that was out of the picture so I settled for him. Which was wrong. The whole time I was with him I could only think of you. How much unlike you he is. How much I want you. How much I love you. But it d-”

“Marie.”

“-didn’t matter. You would never s-”

“Marie.”

“-see me like that. I will always be that kid in the bar to y-”

“MARIE! SHUT UP!” She stops talking, her mouth hanging open a little.

“Sorry, I guess I was rambling a little.” She blushes. She so fucking cute when she does that.

“Did you just say you love me?” Her eyes open wide in shock as she realizes what she let slip. Then her face softens and she gives me a sad smile, tears starting to form in her eyes.

“Yeah. I love you.”

“Since when?” I’m calm but I’m dying to know.

“Not sure exactly. Since the first time I saw you. Since you save my life. Since you trusted me with you secrets. Since I trusted you with mine. You treat my as an equal, Logan, not like a charity case. I realized I loved you when I realized the only time I was truly happy was when I was with you. I looked forward to the time that we could just hang out. Even my most intimate times with Bobby were no match for the times when we would just sit and watch a game.” She loves me. She fucking loves me. I never thought it was possible. “Please don’t freak out. This doesn’t have to change a thing.”

Of course it does. I want it to. I need it to. I just don’t know how to say everything I’m feeling.

---

“Turn your skin on.” I’m about to say no, remind him how dangerous it is. I don’t get a chance to because he speaks again. “Please.”

I’m shocked. I didn’t think he knew the word. I never heard him say it before, that’s why I know it’s important that I do it. I mumble an ‘Ok’ before I close my eyes and concentrate on turning my skin on. When I open my eyes, I nod at him and hold out my hand.

“Uh uh.” he says and swats my hand away so quick my skin doesn’t have a chance to react. He moves so fast I barely register what he’s doing. He has one hand on my waist, the other is in my hair tilting my head back. My eyes are wide as I realize that he is going to kiss me. Oh wow. My heart is racing. I would pass out but I really want to be awake for this. His lips are on mine and before I can enjoy it my skin kicks in. I try to push him away but he holds on, gently slipping his tongue into my mouth as my skin drains his energy, memories and thoughts.

He’s getting weaker by the second. When he falls to his knees, I manage to pull away from him. He slips to the floor, panting, as I struggle to calm myself enough to turn off my skin.

“Are you out of your mind?” I yell when my skin is no longer dangerous. He just gives me a smirk. I can hear his heart beating and smell how nervous he is with his borrowed senses. My head is a whirlwind of his emotions. When I get them under control I take a closer look and see it all. The pride he felt when I went on my first mission and held my own in a fight. How I’m the first person he looks for when he comes home, has a bad day, has good news or just wants to relax. How even when he needs time alone he still wants me around.

Then I start to get to the really important things. The way he loves my smile and laugh. He thinks I’m the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. It breaks his heart when I cry. It killed him that I was with Bobby. How just the thought of me can even calm the wolverine. I feel his guilt and self disgust when he was with a women because he wished it was me. He tried so hard to imagine it’s me. The dozen or so ways he thought up to get around my skin, back when it was an issue. Then the jackpot.

He loves me.

He loves me but he was scared of ruining a good thing. A great friendship. Just like I was. But he was also scared of being rejected. He can’t imagine me wanting him. He thinks he’s not worth it. Worth my love. That I wouldn’t want him in that way because he’s an animal, a monster.

“Your not a monster.” I say as I kneel in front of him. He’s still on the floor, leaning on the bed. “Or an animal.” He wants to say something but I cut him off. “No. I’ve seen everything you’ve done. Everything. I have your memories remember. You don’t scare me and I don’t pity you. I love you. I’ve loved you for so long, Logan.” I lean forward and kiss him. Just a soft brush of my lips against his. He closes his eyes and leans his forehead against mine, holding me in place with his hand on my neck.

“Are you positive, Marie? If we do this-”

“It’s for keeps. I know. I’m counting on it.” He pulls away from me a little and looks into my eyes, searching them. Making sure I really mean what I said. Then he smiles at me and pulls me in for a kiss. It’s gentle and possessive. The kiss tells me he loves me and that I am his. It quickly became about want and need.

His kiss moves to my jaw and then my neck, nipping and suckling it. I push him back and he gives me a worried look, afraid he might’ve gone too far, too fast. I move my hands to the bottom of shirt and slowly pull it over my head. I hear him inhale sharply.

“Jesus Christ, Marie.” He whispers. He moves his hands towards my breast but he stops an inch away, hands slightly shaking. He’s never been hesitant with the other women he has had, yet now he is. I know it’s because he truly loves me and doesn’t want to treat me the way he did them. I know he won’t. I trust him.

I put my hands over his and bring them down onto me, as I close my eyes. We both let out a moan. He rubs his thumb across my nipple, which immediately harden. His hands feel so good on me. So right. Suddenly they’re not on me anymore. Before I can open my eyes, he’s lifting me up and placing me on the bed, his mouth latching onto a nipple.

I arch my back, whimpering when his other hands traces a pattern from my neck to my breast, then down to my stomach. His hand snakes it’s way into my shorts, a finger rubs against my clit making me gasp for air. He starts to kiss his way down to where his hand is. He pauses both actions long enough to pull my shorts off. I’m lying on the bed, completely naked, his eyes moving over my body, taking me in.

“Your so fucking gorgeous” he says and I feel myself blush.

He moves back onto the bed, kissing his way up my legs. I feel like I have died and gone to heaven. I’ve never had so much attention paid to me during foreplay. Actually, I’ve never had foreplay before. All of a sudden, his mouth is on me. Sucking and kissing. His tongue is running tight circles across my over sensitive clit. I’ve lost my mind. I’m saying something but I don’t know what. I’m whimpering and crying out. I’m so close. So close. Then I feel his finger, gently sliding into me and I lose it. I scream out. Loud. I didn’t even know sex could feel this good. And we didn’t even have sex yet.

---

God. She is so sexy.

Just laying there, trying to catch her breath. I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed giving that much. She’s pulling at me muttering something I can’t make out. I crawl up her body and kiss her cheek.

“What’s that, darlin’?”

“Make love to me. Please.” Like she needs to say please. She starts to kiss me. Frantic. Like she doesn’t want to be away from me for a second. I somehow manage to pull my sweats down without breaking the kiss. She breaks the kiss when I position myself at her opening. Damn she is soaked. She stares into my eyes as I slide into her. Tight and warm and smooth. She feels like home.

“Oh God.” She screams out when I start to pump into her. It doesn’t take long before her breathing becomes heavy and erratic again. Her eyes are rolling back into her head and she’s biting her lower lip. I’m close. After a few minutes I’m close. She feels that good around me. Her nails start to claw at my back as she throws her head back and screams out my name. I love the way it sounds coming out of her mouth when she comes.

“I love you, Logan.” She lets out on a breath as she comes down from her orgasm. I can’t hold back anymore. I grunt out her name as I come, collapsing on her. After a few seconds I try to get off of her but legs wrap around my waist holding me in place. “No. Stay.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I just gonna move over a little. Give you some breathing room.” I move out of her slowly. I actually groan, missing her warmth already. I lay on my side and pull her back towards me, draping a leg over her thigh and an arm around her waist. She fits with me so perfectly. The top of her head just reaching my chin. I’m never letting her go.

---

I love the feel of his skin, his body. Strong. Hard. Silky smooth. This is the most amazing day of my life. I just had mind blowing sex with Logan, the man I love and who loves me, and now he’s wrapped around me like a warm, sexy blanket.

“Marie?”

“Hmm.”

“You really understand that this is for keeps right?” God I love him. I love that I’m the only one who he’s vulnerable around. No one has ever seen this part of him.

“Yeah, sugah. I’m yours and your mine. Always and forever.” I smile even thought he can’t see it.

“Good.” He kiss my neck, right near the collarbone, making my head swim. “Let’s get married.” What?!?

“What?” It’s not that I don’t want to, believe me I do, it’s just I never knew he ever wanted to. With anyone. He lets go of me and pulls back from me. I turn around and I see he’s hurt. Shit. “I just mean. I thought you were against marriage or something. We don’t have to get married, if you don’t want to. I ain’t going anywhere. I swear.” He thinks about it for a second before he talks.

“I’ve never been against marriage. Just never been in love. Now I am. I found my mate and I want to make you mine, in every possible way. That includes putting a ring on your finger.” Oh wow. Wow. Shit. Now I’m crying. I’m not bawling, but the tears are streaming down my face into my hair. He leans over and wipes them away. “So what do you say?”

I’m shaking my head trying to get my voice to work.

“Yeah?” He says and I can hear in his voice how happy he is.

“Yes!” I finally get out. He kisses me. Hard and possessive. When he pulls back to look at my I talk again. “Let’s do it tomorrow.” He furrows his brow at me and tilts his head. I have to bite back a laugh because he looks so cute, like a confused puppy.

“Don’t you want to wait ’til we get back to the mansion? Have a big party? Have your friends be bridesmaids or some shit?”

“Nope. As long as your there I don’t care about anything else.” and I mean it. I don’t care if I’m wearing a big puffy white gown or jeans and a sweater, as long as he’s the man across from me when I say ‘I do’.

“Ok then, but there ain’t anyplace to do anything but fight around here. So, how about we finish your drive up to Alaska and I’ll make an honest women of you the moment we get there.” I must be smile liking a idiot right now.

“Ok. Deal.” and I started to giggle, like a little girl. I was about to get embarrassed but Logan let out a deep chuckle. More like a bark of laughter that vibrated through his whole body, and mine a little. I hope what I’m about to say doesn’t ruin everything.

“But first, I need to know how you feel about babies.” I’m biting my lip, nervous as hell. Because I know I want kids one day but I know I want Logan also. He surprised me though.

“I like the idea of my kid growing in your stomach. A kid with big brown eyes and brown hair.”

“Or hazel eyes and crazy black hair.”

“I want to have a family with you Marie. I want it all. As long as it’s with you.”

“Kiss me.” and he does. When he finally pulls away my mind feels a little like jelly. Damn. Just from a kiss. “I love you, Logan.” He looks me in the eyes, very seriously, before he speaks.

“I love you, Marie. More than anything.”

So now I find myself engaged and in love…

With Logan.

It was dawn before we actually settled down for sleep. You gotta love that healing factor.

---

I got a woman in my bed and I’m in love…

And this time it’s the same person.

Marie. My Marie. Soon to be wife and mother to my kids.

I love her and she loves me and I ain’t ever letting her go.