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.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
One more chapter to go. Hope you like it.