Chapter 4: Game On

Veronica wants to put her head in her hands and curse, but she resists. Logan is busily rummaging through the cabinet where he found the liquor in the mini-bar.

I cannot believe I just agreed to play a drinking game. Because this evening was not quite far enough from normal already. Yep. Let’s add alcohol.

The combination of Veronica and Logan is volatile on good days, but pour some alcohol on top and there could be a fireball visible from Neptune 100 miles away. Veronica groans quietly, but she is drowned out by Logan.

“Bingo!” He returns with two shot glasses, which he slaps down on the coffee table triumphantly. Logan flops down on the couch again and looks at Veronica expectantly. She meets his eyes and sees that his smile doesn’t quite reach them. The haze of pain just behind the brown is unmistakable. The tight smile tells her he doesn’t want her to say anything about it. Not right now. She respects his unspoken wish and nods slightly.

“So, what’s the game?” He lifts his eyebrows at her in question.

“Huh - what? It was your idea, Logan.” Veronica stammers at him in confusion.

“Fair enough.” Logan leans back on the couch, finger tapping his chin in an exaggerated gesture as he stares at the ceiling. “What should we play?”

Veronica’s eyes inevitably drift from his face down to his bare chest, sliding down over his abs until his voice makes her jump guiltily and look back at his face. She closes her eyes in relief as she sees that Logan is still looking at the ceiling. “Quarters?”

“Boring.” Smooth, Veronica. What’s with the gaping at him like you’ve never seen a half-naked boy before? Hell, you’ve seen THIS half-naked boy before! At the pool, at the beach...just not in a hotel room. And really, damn. What HAS he been lifting? “Speaking of half-naked...”

“Were we?” Logan’s head turns to look at her sharply, catching Veronica off-guard.

THAT was supposed to be in my head....

“Yes, I mean, no. I mean, where is your shirt?” Veronica attempts to bounce back quickly, going for business-like in her tone of voice. And somewhat failing.

Logan gives her a halfway smirk. “I took it off. Like you asked me to, not five minutes ago?”

Veronica puts her hand up, halting his words. “Logan. I meant, where is it now? The whole point of you taking it off was to get it rinsed out.”

“Oh, I don’t care about that shirt.” Logan gestures to the garment in question, hanging halfway out of the nearby wastebasket. He looks back at Veronica, barely able to contain his grin.

Exasperated, Veronica waves her hands in front of her. “Well then, why did you even take it off?” She realizes too late how high her voice is getting.

Logan pauses, taking in the faint pink flush in Veronica’s cheeks and the slightly wild look in her eyes. A bit of a gleam in his eye makes her shift uncomfortably in her seat. “You told me to, Miss Veronica.”

“Miss Ver - ?” She catches Logan’s pointed look at her knee-high black boots.

“I didn’t want to displease you.” He finally loses his battle with the smirk. “Miss Veronica.”

Veronica looks at Logan, her mouth open slightly. And then, suddenly, she laughs. “I am not - these boots -“

“I mean, what kind of party was Caz throwing, anyway? Was there a Room of Pain?”

“Logan, stop!” Veronica nearly snorts at the thought of 09ers being paddled into submission.

“Was it B.Y.O.W.? Bring Your Own Whips?”

“Listen! That’s enough - you - these boots are not even all high-heeled and pointy, for crying out loud!”

Logan leans over to get a better look at them. He frowns a bit before catching her eye. “Huh. Guess you’re right.”

As he reclines back in his seat, Logan grins at her. It is the closest to a real smile she’s seen in some time. Figures the only thing that makes him happy is teasing me about being a dominatrix. Allegedly. Clearly, I’m not. I’m just...authoritative. That’s all.

She laughs to herself a little bit. This is a lot like they used to be together. He would tease her, make her stomach hurt with laughing. She has missed it more than she realized until just now.

Veronica leans over, unzips each boot and pulls them off along with her socks. She curls her bare feet up under her on the couch and turns to face Logan, who has watched her actions with some interest.

“Happy now?”

“Ecstatic, Miss Vero-”

“Do not finish that sentence, Echolls.”

“Yes, ma’am.” She fights a smile at his mock salute.

“You know, if you don’t care about the shirt, you could just put it back on.” Veronica’s effort at nonchalance falls on ears that are not so easily fooled.

Logan seems to debate the next words out of his mouth for a few seconds before answering. “Nah. It’s covered in blood.”

Veronica sighs. I’m starting to think he could make a career out of driving me insane. And they say he has no job skills.

“Well, now that we’ve covered - or really, uncovered - all that, should we pick a game?”

“Right. Suggestions?”

“Poker?”

“No cards. And not really a drinking game.”

Logan replies in mock seriousness. “Veronica, if there’s something I can teach you in our time together tonight it is that every game is a drinking game.” She rolls her eyes as Logan continues. “How about...strip poker?”

“No CARDS, Logan. And also, no.” Veronica’s mouth twitches in a smile. “Besides, didn’t you get your fill of strip poker with Weevil and the boys?”

Logan decides to ignore her and continue. “So, no poker. No strip poker. Strip?”

“Is that a game or a request?” Logan opens his mouth to answer. “Doesn’t matter. No to both.”

“Truth or Dare?”

“Nope.” Dares? With Logan? HA!

“I Never?”

“Definitely not.” Veronica tries not to show anything on her face as her mind reels back to the last time they played ‘I Never’ together. Too many memories.

“Spin the Bottle?”

“There’s only two of us.”

“Point?” He turns to look at her this time and the mischief in his eyes is a welcome sight. It makes Veronica’s chest not hurt quite so much. It makes Logan seem more like himself.

She has an idea. “Bullshit!”

“Hey!”

“It’s a game, Logan. Have you heard of it?”

“No. Is it a drinking game?”

Veronica wags her finger at him. “Logan, Logan. If there’s one thing you’ve taught me in the last five minutes...”

Logan shakes his head, his own words of a few minutes ago coming back to him.

“Fine, fine. The rules? Spill.”

“Here’s how it works. Each person gets a drink. You say something about yourself.” Veronica points at Logan. “Like you could say ‘I wet the bed until I was 12.’” Logan opens his mouth to protest this blatant character assassination, but Veronica talks over him. “If I think it’s true, I say ‘True.’ If I think you’re lying, I say ‘Bullshit.’ If I am right, you drink. If I’m wrong, I do. Got it?

Logan’s eyes light up. “So it’s really all about how well you bluff.”

“And with that in mind, let’s not forget how badly I beat you in poker, Logan. Once beating you with, I believe, a ten, an eight, a five and two threes.” Before Logan can respond, she continues. “It also tests how well you know the other person.”

Logan closes his still open mouth, leaning his head to the side slightly, studying Veronica. After a few seconds, she turns away sharply, breaking eye contact.

“Okay. So, want me to start?” Awkward, much?

Logan pours a shot of vodka in front of Veronica and a shot of J.D. for himself. He leans back, locking his hands behind his head. “Shoot.”

Veronica kicks herself once again for making Logan take his shirt off. Before, being in the hotel room was awkward and uncomfortable, but now it feels intimate. Which is a whole other level of awkward and uncomfortable she had not wanted to reach.

Keep it simple, Mars. Nothing too personal. And remember, use your poker face.

“I scored a 14 on the purity test.” That would be somewhat personal.

Logan’s eyes widen as he leans back on the couch. He rests his hands on his abdomen, fingers drumming. Veronica keeps eye contact, but tries to hide any hints.

“So, let me get this straight. If I think you are lying, I say ‘bullshit.’ If you are in fact lying, you have to take that shot.” Logan points at the full shot glass.

Veronica interrupts. “No way. I’m not taking a full shot each time, Logan. Maybe half.”

“Planning to lose a lot, Mars? But, whatever. You are just about half my size. Half for you, full for me.”

Veronica nods, surprised at such a short argument.

“Now, as I was saying. If I say ‘bullshit’ and you are telling the truth, I take that shot. Yes?”

“You got it.”

“And if I think you are telling the truth, I say ‘true’ and all the same rules apply.”

“Head of the class. Now, are you going to guess sometime tonight?”

“Pushy little thing, aren’t you?”

“You have no idea.”

“I have an inkling. And before you snap those tiny jaws at me again, the answer is ‘bullshit.’ Despite what your locker told the student body.”

Veronica’s mouth snaps shut. “How did you -“

“We’re not playing Twenty Questions, Veronica. Your spluttering tells me I was right. So, drink.” Logan gives her glass a look and Veronica’s brow furrows. If there’s anyone at the school who would believe a 14, I would have guessed Logan. I wish he would stop surprising me. It’s...annoying.

Veronica reaches for the shot glass. With a tip of a toast to Logan, she downs the vodka in one swallow.

“What happened to half?”

“It seemed rude not to finish what I was poured.” And besides, how often in the last year has Logan chosen not to believe the gossip about me? Um, never? That calls for drinking straight from the bottle, actually. “Wait a minute. You do think I scored higher than 14, right?”

“It’s my turn now, right?” Bastard. Veronica bites the inside of her mouth to keep from smiling as Logan ignores her question with a wink.


On to Chapter 5: Room Service