Wednesday evening, Jean was going out with Warren (yes, miracles do happen), so I’d arranged to have Logan meet me at my place after his boxing lesson and my Kung Fu class.
One problem I didn’t foresee was getting rid of Scott, who gave me a ride home.
Usually it was no big deal. If we weren’t going out for a pint, he’d drop me off at home and race off to get something to eat. Tonight, for some reason, he’d parked his car, followed me up the steps to the porch, and slouched against Mystique’s door with his arms crossed.
“I can make it in on my own.” I gave him a look over my shoulder as I unlocked the front door. “See?”
“Maybe I’ll come in for a while.” He unslouched and started for the doorway.
“No!” I coughed. “I mean, I’m kind of tired. I thought I’d take a shower and hop into bed.”
That wasn’t a lie. Not really. I did plan on taking a shower and hopping into bed pretty quickly. I just didn’t plan on doing it alone. Or sleeping any time soon.
Something on my face must have given me away, because Scott’s eyes narrowed. He studied me for an uncomfortably long second before he said, “I’ll come up and make you a snack before you go to bed.”
“No, really, Scott—“
But he’d already pushed his way past me and was skipping up the stairs.
Grr. I ran up after him. What time was it? Maybe I had enough time to humor Scott before Logan got here.
Eight thirty-five according to the DVD player. Shit. I told Logan to be here at nine.
“You want a peanut butter sandwich?” Scott called from behind the refrigerator door.
I almost choked. “Um, peanut butter would be great.”
I walked into the kitchen to see him close the door with his foot because his hands were full. I glanced at the clock on the oven, hoping I’d misread the DVD clock, but it read eight thirty-six.
He dumped everything on the counter and took out a cutting board. “I can’t believe you went grocery shopping.”
“I didn’t.” I hopped up on the counter and tried to resign myself to eating a sandwich when the only way I wanted peanut butter was if it was smeared on Logan.
“Oh, right. Jean’s staying with you. I wondered why there was healthy food in there and not just candy bars.” He opened a drawer and frowned. “Where’s the bread knife?”
I blinked. “Huh?”
“Never mind.” He opened another drawer and apparently found what he was looking for.
Scott knew his way around my kitchen better than I did. I had no clue where anything was or even what they were called, much less that you used a special knife for bread. But who cared about any of that? It was eighty thirty-eight, for God’s sake. I tapped my foot against the cupboard. “Hurry up.”
He glanced at me as he ever so carefully spread peanut butter across the slices. “Hungry, huh?”
“Starving.” But not for food.
He smirked like he could read my mind. Hell, he probably could.
I turned beet red. Because the thoughts in my mind were X-rated. Maybe worse than that. Was there a Z-rating?
He held up a piece of bread. “I have to start over.”
“Huh?” I looked at the bread to see what was wrong. Mold?
“Look.” He held the piece close to my face. “The peanut butter is uneven. It’s thicker on this side, and in trying to even it out I tore the bread.”
I squinted to see what he was talking about, but I couldn’t. I shook my head. “Where is it torn?”
“Here.” He poked a finger at spot that looked perfectly normal and punched a gaping hole in it. “Oops.”
I glared at him. “You did that on purpose.”
“Me?” Scott blinked his eyes through his glasses like an innocent baby.
I didn’t buy it. Through gritted teeth, I said, “Hurry up.”
“That hungry, huh?”
“Scott!”
“I’m making it. Jeez. You can’t rush genius.”
Bastard. I was about to tell him unequivocally to forget the sandwiches and that he had to leave when I heard the front door open and voices at the bottom of the stairs.
Shit. Jean. And Warren.
“Looks like you have company,” Scott said casually.
I scowled at him, hopped off the counter, and went to head off disaster. I met my sister and her beau at the top of the stairs. They had their arms around each other (gross) and were laughing.
I narrowed my eyes at Jean. “I thought you were going to be out tonight.”
“I was.” She battered her eyes innocently. Only with Jean it wasn’t an act. “But I forgot a sweater, and I wanted to show Warren my room.”
“Hi, Marie.” Warren gave me a jaunty little wave. “Didn’t know you were going to be here.”
I caught the look they exchanged, like I was the one intruding. Delusional. And I wasn’t going to let them get away with it. I held my arms out to keep them from entering the living room. “You can’t stay.”
“I live here.” Jean said slowly, as if I were retarded.
“No, you’re just visiting. And you said you were going to be out.”
“We were. But we’re making a stop here first.” She gave Warren a look that clearly asked him to excuse her insane sister.
But I wasn’t insane. I was horny. “Look---“
“I’m just going to show Warren around.” They brushed by my outstretched arms. “Oh, hi, Scott.”
I stood at the top of the stairs, grinding my teeth while Jean introduced Scott to Warren. As I headed toward the kitchen, I checked out the clock again. Eight fifty-seven.
Please, please, let Logan be late.
“Want me to make you guys a peanut butter sandwich?” Scott asked Jean and Warren. I saw that he only looked at Jean when he spoke and a small part of me couldn’t help but notice the way she blushed when he smiled at her. Hmm.
“No, thanks. Warren and I went to this great restaurant close by. Henry’s. Have you ever been there, Scott?”
I choked on spit.
They glanced at me before going back to ignoring me.
Then I noticed the top Jean had on. “Hey!”
All three gave me various looks of exasperation. As if I cared. I was more concerned with the tank top she stole from me. Even worse, it looked better on her than it did on me. “What’s up with the clothes?”
“Do you like it? I got it especially for Warren.” Her eyes widened and she blinked rapidly.
I frowned at my sister. “Are your contacts dry?”
“I don’t wear contacts.” She blinked a few more times, but what got the message across was the pleading look she gave me.
Oh. Oh. She didn’t want Warren to know she wasn’t as hip and happening as he thought she was. This was going to cost her (I couldn’t help it—I think it’s a gene younger siblings inherit). Then the doorbell rang.
Oh, shit.
“Rogue, that was the door.”
Scott, ever the helpful best friend. I glared at him and walked down at a snail’s pace to the front door. Wishing it was a homeless person come to crash the party, I threw open the door. But I knew I wouldn’t be that lucky.
“Logan.”
His smile was slow and sexy as he stepped forward to circle my waist with his arms. “Marie.”
“Listen, there’s something I need to tell you…”
He bent down and laid the most passionate, hungry kiss I’d ever experienced on me. His arms tightened and the next thing I knew I was pressed against the length of him—the very hard length of him—lost in his mouth. Finally, we came up for air and stood, staring into each other’s eyes, breathing like we’d just sprinted a mile.
Logan pushed back a strand of my disheveled hair. “There was something you wanted to tell me?”
I blinked. “There was?”
He grinned and began to move me toward the wall. “If there wasn’t, then maybe we can get on with---“
“Rogue, you okay down there?”
Oh, shit. I looked up at Logan, who looked back down at me with a frown. “Who’s that?”
I grabbed the collar of his T-shirt. “Listen, things haven’t quite gone according to plan.”
“Rogue,” Scott called from the top of the stairs. “You okay?”
“Fine,” I squeaked, my hands tightening on the shirt.
Logan’s gaze cooled and his arms loosened from around me--- a little, but I could still feel it. “If you’re busy… I can go.”
“No! No.” I shook my head vigorously. Then I grimaced and dropped my head against his chest. “All I wanted was an evening alone with you and then everyone showed up and I can’t get rid of them and I don’t know what to do.” I lifted my head as inspiration struck. “I can throw them out the living room window.”
Logan chuckled and gripped my waist. “That might be extreme.”
“An explosion would make them leave.” I pursed my lips. “One time MacGyver made a bomb out of weed killer.”
“Rogue?” Scott’s heavy footsteps clacked on the wood steps. “Oh. Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Yes, you did. I pulled out of Logan’s arms and glared at him.
Scott ignored my obviously peeved expression, skipped down the rest of the steps until he was on the landing with us, and held his hand out. “I’m Scott. Marie’s best friend.”
I sighed at the challenge in his statement and waited for the usual male posturing.
Surprisingly, Logan just smirked and accepted the proffered hand. “Name’s Logan. Good to finally meet you. Marie’s told me a lot about you.”
“Funny, because she hasn’t mentioned a thing about you.”
I elbowed Scott and turned to Logan with a gritted smile. “Scott’s making peanut butter sandwiches. Would you like one?”
Logan’s eyes went sultry. “I’d love one, darlin’.”
This time I whacked my forehead for real.
Scott stared back and forth between us, finally giving Logan an approving nod. “I think we’ll get along just fine.”
Peachy. That was all I needed.
But at the moment, there was nothing I could do but go along with this whole farce of an evening, if I wanted to get Logan alone any time soon. So I sighed and trudged up the stairs with them.
“Bobby!” Jean cried with a smile.
Oh, God—Not Bobby, too. I looked around the living room. It wouldn’t have surprised me if he was hiding under a cushion or something.
She walked out of the kitchen, Warren on her tail. “It’s nice seeing you again, Bobby.”
Shit. I plopped onto the loveseat with a groan. I forgot about that.
Scott looked around. “Drake is here?”
“Drake?” Jean frowned briefly before understanding hit. She turned to Logan. “I didn’t know your name was Drake.”
“It’s not,” he said with a twitch of the lips that could have maybe been interpreted as a kind smile.
“But—“ She looked at me and then back at Logan.
I had to speak up. It was a matter of self-preservation more than anything. I had to keep my sister from blurting something potentially damaging. “His name is Logan, Jean. Though you may not remember because you were so out of it that night.”
Her forehead creased. “But I thought—“
“Logan, can I get you anything to drink? A beer?” Scott asked loudly.
Oh, you are a good man. I tried to tell him with my eyes that I owed him big time. The way his lips quirked told me he knew he was going to milk it for all it was worth.
“A beer would be good, thanks.”He strode to me and sat down next to me, his arm slipping around me to cuddle me to his side. It was almost enough to distract me from this fiasco of a rendezvous.
“Rogue? A beer?”
“Maybe a glass of water.” I shrugged at the questioning look he shot me. I had to keep my wits around me.
“It’s so funny,” Jean said as she dragged Warren by the hand to the couch. Scott shot their grasped hands an odd look before disappearing into the kitchen. “I could have sworn your name was Bobby.”
“Bobby was the other guy,” he replied, toying with the hair band keeping my hair up.
Scott came back, handed Logan a bottle, and perched on the end of the other couch, opposite my sister and her date. “So.”
“So you forgot my water,” I said peevishly. Not because of the water either.
Logan started to rise. “I’ll get it.”
“No, you sit.” Scott waved him down. “I’ll get it for her.”
The doorbell rang. Again.
“Maybe it’s Jehovah’s Witnesses,” Warren offered helpfully.
“No way. They’d go to a Satan worshipper’s house before coming to Rogue’s.” Scott hopped up. “I’ll get it.”
Fine. Whatever. How much worse could it be?
“Look who’s here,” Scott said when he returned a couple of minutes later. “Drake and his lady friend.”
Of course. Now if only my parents would arrive, the night would be complete. I quickly rescinded that statement in case there was a supreme being who was actually listening to me at that moment. Didn’t want to give him any ideas.
“Marie!” Kitty shrieked as she cleared the stairs. She threw her arms out wide and headed straight for me.
Because I was afraid she’d tumble down on the top of both and Logan, I jumped up to intercept her. “Kitty. What a surprise. Oof!”
Her hug squeezed the air out of my lungs. Over her shoulder Bobby gave me a sickly smile which said plain and clear that this was the last place that he wanted to be.
Ironic, wasn’t it? Now that I wanted Logan to myself, Bobby kept popping up.
“Bobby said that Logan told him he had a date with you tonight and I told Bobby we had to stop by and say hi because were on our way to dinner at Henry’s, which is my absolute favorite restaurant, isn’t it, Pookie?”
A pale pink flushed Bobby’s face. “Yes it is, Sweet Blossom,” he replied dutifully.
Gag. I noticed Logan and wondered what kind of name I should call him.
His responding look said: Don’t even think about it.
I smirked.
“Marie, you should offer your guests some refreshments.”
Scowling at my ever-proper sister, I turned to my supposed guests. I didn’t want to offer refreshments, I wanted everyone to leave. “What can I get you?”
“I’d love a Cosmo. The pink goes with my shoes.” Kitty stuck out a long leg to show us all.
“Sorry, I don’t have vodka. How about a beer?”
She tipped her head and pouted thoughtfully before she finally said, “I’ll just have water.”
“Okay.” I glanced at Bobby. “Beer?”
“Yes. Thank you,” he said without looking up from Kitty’s still outstretched leg.
I rolled my eyes and went to do my duty. I had my back to the living room when I felt steely arms clasp around my waist. Logan. I smiled as I felt his lips nuzzle my neck.
“Get rid of them,” he whispered as he settled himself against my butt.
Yum. He was already firming up. I started to push back to encourage him when a horrible idea occurred to me. I whirled around and glared. “That better not be the effects of seeing a certain pair of legs capped in pink heels.”
“Actually, I got aroused seeing you in your gi.” He trapped me against the counter and fingered the opening of my top as he pressed his lower parts against mine. “And you know how much your cup turns me on, darlin’.”
I laughed. Then he bent and gently bit the base of my throat. Gulp. I stopped laughing.
“Get rid of them,” he murmured again.
Right. “Right.” I turned around and poured the beer I just uncapped down the drain. The water followed. “Wait here.”
I strode in the living room, hands on my hips. Everyone looked up when I entered. I faced Kitty. “I ran out of beer and water.”
Scott shook his head. “I hate it when the tap goes dry.”
I gave him a menacing look before I faced Kitty again. “Sorry.”
“It happens,” Kitty said philosophically.
Bobby stood up and held out a hand to his girlfriend. “We should get to the restaurant anyway.”
Just then, I could have kissed him, slug tongue be damned.
I glared at Scott and Jean. Scott made a big production of picking ling off his gi, but he finally got up when I walked over and pain-punched his ribs.
“Ow!” He rubbed his side and frowned at me.
I turned my glare on Jean, who hopped up before I moved an inch toward her. “We should go too. Come on, Warren. Let’s go for a walk.”
Warren didn’t have a chance to do much more than squeak before Jean jerked him to his feet.
Fine with me. I didn’t care as long as everyone left. I escorted all to the door and went through a flurry of hugs (mostly from Kitty). Before I could lock the door, Jean turned around and leaned down to whisper, “It’s a good thing Bobby isn’t the one you’re taking to my party.”
I frowned. “Why?”
“Because he’s in love with that perky girl.” She nodded toward Kitty. “There would have been no hope for you there. Anyway, Mom and Dad are going to love Logan.”
“They are?” She was shitting me. This was her way to pay me back for throwing her Folgers away.
“Of course they are.” Her brow wrinkled like she couldn’t imagine any other scenario. “You’re obviously in love with him, and he is with you. What more could they ask for?”
Oh, I don’t know--- perfection, maybe? But I didn’t get a chance to respond because she turned on her heels and skipped down the steps to Warren.
“Don’t wait up for me!” She called over her shoulder.
No chance of that. I locked the door and ran up the stairs.
Logan stood in the kitchen, arms crossed, leaning against the counter. “Impressive. There’re generals who can take tactical trainin’ from you.”
I untied my gi top. “There only one type of training I’m interested in right now.”
He grinned and pushed off the counter. “Lead the way, darlin’.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Marie's evening alone doesn't go quite as planned. Don't you hate it when that happens?