Something Else Entirely

33 - The thawing of Frozen Logan.

"But I thought I was your muse that night, Loges," I teased her, remembering back to the night of Byron's party, and to us sitting outside and talking for the first time without fear for my testicles' safety. The night everything started shifting with us. "I distinctly remember you describing me as not pretty, nor handsome, but something else entirely."

Everyone around the table laughed, and Madden piped in with his own recollections. "That's true. I was the handsome one. 'The most handsome of all Foster men.' Isn't that right, Logan?"

"Kid, you are getting a big head in your old age," said Dad, pulling him over to sit on his lap. "And besides, we both know I have that title in the bag," he chuckled, leaning in to snuggle into Madden's face with his week-long grizzle. Sadie, in all her raging hormones lately, made the mistake of mauling Dad one morning before work and telling him she liked kissing him best when he was scruffy, so he's been rocking a solid lazy man beard ever since. It does suit him, but it also means I need to sidestep their making out a little more often than usual.

"You're both dreaming. We all know I'm the most handsome of this bunch," said Sadie, winking at me playfully. "Isn't that right, Loges?"

"Absolute babe," Logan smiled at me, not Sadie, as she said it, reaching for my hand under the table and squeezing it in hers while Sadie chuckled at us both.

We returned to Logan's photos, more so I could have a distraction from the feeling of Logan's lingering hand in mine and the subsequent thoughts I was having about how her touch would feel elsewhere. It was an easy distraction too, because Logan was so talented and her passion so clearly evident that it just made me sad that her mother didn't want her to pursue something she was so clearly in love with. Even someone with no knowledge of art or photography who looked at these photos could see that she was good at what she did.

I almost didn't believe her when she said she intended on going to university to study photography next year, figuring it was pointless because she is already the best photographer I've ever known. She tried to explain all the flaws in her work and what she still needed to learn about, but I understood none of it and wouldn't back down from my belief she was the best there was; and she wouldn't stop rolling her eyes at me, or caressing my hand underneath the table, which she had just placed on her bare thigh.

I was rock hard for half an hour after she made that little move conspicuously under the table, and the blood kept creeping back to my dick every time I felt her shift slightly in her chair and was reminded exactly where my hand was. I was so grateful I'd pushed my own chair all the way in otherwise I never would have heard the end of it from everyone seated around the table besides Madden, who would have been mortified.

He was the one to ask her about her tattoos, one of which was currently hidden underneath my palm on her leg. It was a line drawing of her first camera from Kendall surrounded by peony flowers, which were her favourite. She also had a drawing by one of her favourite artists on her arm—four women with different plants for heads, each representing the four Fyre women: Logan, her mother, Kendall and Darcie. There was also a small semi-trailer, detailed with an Australian desert scene in the trailer on her other thigh, a stack of books on her forearm, a polaroid with a simple line drawing of both her and Byron's faces on the inside of her arm, and a Sherrin football behind her ear representing her uncle Carson.

It seemed like a lot, and I guess it kind of was, but each one was no bigger than ten-by-ten centimetres, except for the camera and the semi-trailer on her thighs, which were slightly bigger. The artist who did them was just really good at doing very detailed but minimalist tattoos, which was handy because anything bigger probably would have looked ridiculous on Logan's slim body.

My favourite, however—and clearly Sadie's, too—was the Persuasion quote she had written across her collarbone, which read half agony, half hope. It was the one I'd seen at Byron's party but wasn't daring enough to get close enough to read with my own eyes. She showed the table that one, at Sadie's desperate request, pulling down the collar of her tight, olive coloured t-shirt slightly to do so.

The second my eyes saw the angular shape of her neck and collarbone and the faded black ink under her skin there, my dick decided to return to its rock hard stance under the table, and I felt like a jerk for not getting up to help Sadie and Dad clear the dishes because I didn't want to risk everyone seeing the outcome of me simply looking at Logan's neck and it making me aroused.

It also created a lot of problems once dinner was over and Logan and I moved to sit out in the backyard because now every time I looked at her, all I could imagine was her pulling it back down again and me running my tongue along her queenly collarbone, neck, jaw, lips and just everywhere in general. My stupid dick just wouldn't get the message to not constantly and selfishly steal all the blood from the rest of my body, and my poor, bloodless brain was left to work at bare minimum capacity trying to remain focussed on our conversation.

Logan eventually went home once it got late, telling me that she wouldn't be able to see me for a couple weeks as she really did need to focus on studying for her final exams. And the thawing of Frozen Logan was complete when she admitted that she came over today to get some time with me because she intended on implementing a self-imposed Jet ban during her exams, restricting her contact with me so as keep focussed on studying. Apparently, I am too much of a negative—albeit enjoyable—influence on the cognitive functioning of her brain, which creates problems when the culminating grade of thirteen years of schooling is dependent on your ability to recall a lot of information under stressful, exam conditions. She even found the courage to add in that she would have missed me too much if she didn't see me today and absorb enough Jet to carry her through the stress of the next couple weeks. I think it might have actually physically pained her to admit that, but fuck it if I wasn't happy as hell gloating about having finally broken through her icy exterior.

Even if she hadn't pre-planned not to see me for a few weeks while she focussed on studying, I'm sure she would have stayed away deliberately just to spite me for referring to her as my Ice Queen when I said goodbye at her car and rubbed it in her face that she had finally admitted that she liked me enough to miss me.

"Enjoy your cold shower tonight, asshole," she said, smirking at my crotch knowingly as she backed her car away from the curb.

Oh, I plan to, my beautiful, melting Ice Queen. I plan to.