It started as a throbbing. No, a beating. The beating of a heart. Thump, thump, thump. It was growing harsher and more violent as it smashed repeatedly against my earlobes.

I shot out of my bed, casting my eyes towards the sound, but all that met me was darkness. Dad was out on the boat, Maisie wasn't sleeping over. I was alone, and someone was trying to break into my house.

The light switch would draw attention to myself, I couldn't illuminate my surroundings to find my weapon. Instead I flip off my quilt cover and feel around, my fingers curling around a hairbrush. Sure, it wasn't much, but a hefty knock across the head with it could do at least a little damage.

I found the door, slowly turning the knob and opening it. The crashing continued, it was like a violent knock. Wait, if an intruder was trying to break in, why would they be knocking on the door?

My shoulders relaxed slightly from their tense position, at least they weren't entering with force. I tiptoed down the hallway, passing an illuminated clock on the wall. Half past one in the morning.

When I reached the threshold of my front door, the crashing stopped abruptly. I think I heard someone muttering outside. The eyehole revealed nothing but darkness, and I dared to flick the switch that would turn on the light outside.

It revealed a figure, he was tall and lean and his arms were crossed over the wood of the door, his head falling between his shoulders. I couldn't see his face, but I was sure it was Logan Mathews just from his height. Logan Mathews who I'd been avoiding for almost a week, and who I still hadn't even spoken about with Alastair because even he didn't care about hearing about him.

He tumbled through the threshold when I opened the door. He'd been supporting his weight on the wood and was momentarily unbalanced, catching himself on my shoulder. Meanwhile I was frozen in disbelief, weighing up the probability of this all being some weird dream.

I was the first to speak. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Logan's surprised look turned to a bright smirk, his eyes not quite focusing properly as he took a step back. "Hi, Vally."

"Are you drunk?"

Logan shrugged as he invited himself further into the house, running a finger over the kitchen counter in the almost dark room.

"What are you doing in my house," I repeated. I was still holding the hairbrush. My voice was hollow, cracking a little. I couldn't tell if I was upset or annoyed that he was in my house. Jeez, never seeing him again was working so well for me.

"I wanted to ask what was up with you and that Aaron guy."

"Alastair?" I corrected. This was not happening. "Even if there was anything up, it's nowhere near any of your business. It's especially no reason to be in my house at this hour. Get out."

"Oh, Vally," he sung. "How does that song go, the one that Amy Winehouse sung?"

"Please don't."

"Stop making a fool out of me! Why don't you come on over Valerieee!" He bellowed, rocking up and down like he was a pop singer.

"Jesus, Logan," I hissed. I turned and shut the front door, worried he'd wake the neighbours if he hadn't already. He was definitely so drunk, he was struggling to even support himself on the counter.

I didn't know what to do, I wasn't supposed to be talking to him let alone standing here at one thirty in my Micky Mouse Pyjama top. I could call Noah or one of the guys to come and get him, although something told me they'd played a part in getting him like this.

"What are you doing here?" I asked for what felt like the hundredth time.

"I just wanted to see you."

"Sorry, but from what I recall you never wanted to see me again."

"I don't," he said simply. We were clearly getting nowhere.

I sighed, venturing to the fridge to pour some water. Maybe if he sobered up a bit he could be a bit more cooperative. I found a tall glass and filled it, sliding it to Logan. "Drink it or I'm kicking you back out on the street."

"Whatever you say, boss,"

"Don't call me that."

"Your pyjamas are cute."

I rolled my eyes and ventured down the hallway again to get changed. If I was going to get him home, I'd have to put some normal clothes on. At least I'd have the pleasure of embarrassing him about this in the morning.

What I didn't expect him to do was follow me. He hummed the tune of the Amy Winehouse song, glass of water in hand.

"If you did damage to the door you can pay for it by the way," I told him as I flicked the light switch on in my room. "And explain it to my dad."

"Whatever you say, Vally. Hey, is that a thong?"

My cheeks flame scarlet as I see him gesturing to the underwear I hadn't put away. It was definitely a thong.

"Get out," I growled, tossing all the clothes into the nearest drawer I could find.

"Sorry, boss."

"If you say that one more time I swear to God I will punch you in the nose." Logan's pretty straight nose, jarred and lopsided after I landed a right hook on it. What a satisfying image.

Logan stayed quiet, looking around nosily at my belongings. I picked up the outfit I wore the day before, cotton shirts and a tank, and bundled it under my arm.

"I need to change. You need to leave."

I waited for him to protest, but he didn't. He cooperatively made his way into the hallway and I shut the door. I pulled on my other shorts and removed my top. I was trying to do the clasp on my bra when I heard his voice through the door.

"Are you done yet?"

"No."

"Can I help you?" He said with an overly flirty tone.

"No."

But, just as I had the bra on and was reaching for the shirt he came in anyway. I shrieked and grabbed my shirt to cover me but it was too late, the look on his face clearly showed that he'd devoured the image of me half naked. I mean, he saw me half naked all the time in my bathers. For some reason though, a bra felt much more intimate.

This seemed to sober him up a little because he straightened up. "That really wasn't meant to happen. Sorry."

He walked out of the room. The idea of Logan Mathews in my house was one thing, but the idea of Logan Mathews in my house whilst so completely drunk that he walks in on me almost naked? Ugh.

Holy shit, what kind of messed up dream is this? I thought. No, not dream. Nightmare for sure.

"Logan!" I called from my door after I'd opened it. I was now fully clothed and had the keys to me and Dad's Toyota looped around my ring finger.

All I heard in response was a groan from the kitchen. Great. I pause at the doorway, and curse under my breath. Logan was sitting on the tiles, leaning against a cupboard while he cradled his hand.

"What happened?"

"It was dark, I knocked my hand on the corner and-" he pulled back his cradling hand to reveal a gash on the other one. 

"Shit," I said, dropping the keys and reaching in the nearest drawer for a tea towel. I then growled, "You owe me so much for this in the morning. You're such a freaking idiot, Logan."

"I know," he whispered. I took his hand from him, it was wide, with a large palm and long fingers. I recalled the day on the jetty where I had placed my hand in his and we'd jumped. It was equally as warm in my hands now. But tonight I was purely clinical, angling his hand away and pressing the towel to it. He tensed from the pain, but didn't protest.

"Sorry, Vally," he mumbled. "I tried to stay away from you."

"I wish you did a better job," I said. He had pissed me off so much, not only from that comment the other day but from barging into my house like this. 

"I don't," he muttered.

He was dangerously close to continuing, but I stopped him in the fear of him going on about sentimental bullshit by withdrawing the towel and dabbing it at the wound. It wasn't bad enough to need stitches, but it would take a while for the blood to stop. "Just be quiet, I don't want you to say something you'll regret."

"Like what." His smirk was back, his blue eyes glittering in the faint light from the other room.

"Like stupid stuff," I said. 

"Like how you like me?"

My blush returned, creeping across my cheeks and onto my ears. "Logan, I do not like you."

"Come on, Vally. All through high school I could see it."

"Uh, no you couldn't."

"Yeah I could. And if I couldn't see it then, I see it now."

"Well, even if I did. It doesn't matter. We're never seeing each other again, remember?"

"You know I only said that because you pissed me off."

"How did I even piss you off? You were the one who came into my front garden, remember?"

"Yeah, but you kept dismissing me every time I tried with you."

"Tried what with me exactly?" I asked.

"Tried to tell you how I felt about all of this." I looked at him, he was looking at me. His shoulders looked really good. This conversation was going in a bad direction, but I couldn't help pushing it. He was drunk, which meant he might be less hostile about opening up. Even if the deal was done, that didn't mean I wasn't curious.

"How do you feel?" I stammered.

He laughed, a cheerful sound. His face was getting closer. I averted my gaze to continue dabbing at his hand.

"Isn't it obvious, Valerie? Hasn't it been obvious for a long time?"

No, I want to tell him. Nothing is obvious with you. But my lips are sewn shut by an invisible force.

"We're attracted to each other. We have chemistry. Like, chemistry I don't have with anyone else," he slurred slightly. "I've always wanted to explore that. But I thought that was making you hate me even more. Until lately."

"What changed?" I asked, my voice small.

"You asked me to get you a drink," He stated. "You never make moves with anyone. And you made a move with me. Just the whole way it happened, that's when I knew it. I knew you were into me just as much as I was into you."

"You're drunk," I reminded him, my thoughts desperately attempting to sort out his words. "You don't even know what you're saying."

"You're just trying to stall so you don't have to admit it."

"I'm getting you a bandage, then you're getting in that damn car and I'm taking you home."

"You're not denying it."

"Logan," I hissed. "I'm going to whack you across the back of the head with a rolling pin in a minute."

"Sorry."

I did my best at applying a thick bandage and then coaxed him off of the floor. My knees were sore from kneeling and I stretched, Logan's eyes lingering on me the whole time. If this really was a dream, maybe I'd pause to admire how good he looks right now, a little flustered, his blonde hair highlighted like a halo in the limited light. Jeez, I was glad he couldn't read my mind.

"I don't want to go."

"Yes you do," I told him. "Let me tell you, if you remember any of this in the morning then you're going to wish you went home right this second."

"I'm not that drunk."

"Who were you with anyway?" I asked. I grabbed the keys again, resuming my previous actions of slipping shoes on and grabbing my purse.

"Noah," he sighed. "Pete, Luke, Aaron..."

"Aaron?" I asked. My heart skipped a beat. "You mean Alastair?"

"Yeah, Alastair," he laughed. "You never told me what was going on between you."

"That's because nothing is," I said through clenched teeth. If they had all gotten drunk together, what would have stopped Alastair from telling him about our deal? The only thing reassuring me was that Logan wasn't attempting to kill me right now. If he knew about the deal, I was toast.

"Promise?" Logan held out his pinkie.

"I don't know why you care so much," I told him. But I linked my pinkie in his.

We went outside and into the carport. I unlocked the red Toyota and he stumbled in, struggling with his seat belt for a while before we could move. He didn't live far away, but I figured driving would be safer for both of us in case he did something stupid like run off or end up at the beach and in the water.

"Why won't you admit you like me?" Logan asked.

"Are we seriously back here again?" I asked him back. 

"Well I just want to know," he insisted. "Say hypothetically you did like me, why wouldn't you tell me right now."

"Because you're drunk."

"Would you tell me if I was sober?"

"Probably not." I wrinkled up my nose. "But I don't think I'd tell you anyway if I'm being honest."

He was silent in thought for a moment. "What if you just showed it?"

"What do you mean showed it?"

"Just show it. Agree to try liking me."

It was like the deal all over again. I reverted to my number one retort of the night. "Logan, you're drunk."

"What if I tell you I'm still keen in the morning, when I'm not drunk?"

I shrugged. That must have been enough for him because he grinned happily in the mirror. I pulled up at his house, I knew the one because a few years ago he'd had a birthday party there. It was larger than my house, but hardly at the Sullivan standard.

"Goodnight Logan," I told him as a hint for him to leave. Hopefully he'd be able to get in okay.

"Night, Valerie."

He leaned forward and I thought for one horror struck moment that he was going to kiss me. He leaned to the side at the last instant, his arms wrapping around my waist. He was just hugging me. But oh God, what a hug. He was so hot, literally, my whole body was enveloped in a warm caress that made every inch of me set on fire, a weird kind of fire that made each particle I was composed of yearn to be closer.

He pulled away and I was left feeling as normal as before, and I decided it was definitely the time of night. I was half asleep still and not completely conscious. That was it.

The next morning I woke to a text from Maisie inviting me over to Lottie's place with her. I was so tired, and it took a good half an hour to even remember the events from the night. It wasn't until I saw the bloody towel which had been left on the floor that I realised it was real. Logan really was more or less confessing that he liked me at half past one in the morning.

The Sullivan house was as empty as it was last time. Lottie told us her parents were out for lunch and Alastair was still sleeping. He was probably hung over if he got even half as drunk as Logan. I still struggled to comprehend that he'd been hanging around the guys from here. It didn't make sense, but I'd been beginning to think of him as my friend. 

Of course, I have to confess all of the Logan drama to someone, and the girls were my best outlet. Who would know that I could ever be one to have boy drama to share?

"So he came to your house, almost saw you naked, flirted non-stop, and then left," Maisie summarised.

Maisie was on the happiest note I'd seen her in for months. This was because, as she said in her own words, 'make up sex is better than a honeymoon'. Operation Daisy was a complete success. My theory was that it was because Maisie had been so miserable that she was at the point where she was just hoping for some kind of spark from him, desperate for an excuse to forgive him. Apparently he had delivered well.

"That's exactly what happened," I told her. We were by the pool like last time, sitting on the seats and sipping a punch Lottie had made.

"Wow, I swear I could not imagine Logan doing any of that."

"Neither," I agreed. "I kept thinking it was a weird dream."

"Are you going to call him?" Lottie asked.

I shook my head briskly. "No way, unless he does. Otherwise I'm just going back to the 'never seeing each other again' idea."

"You can't," Maisie insisted. "Drunk people are the most honest, and he is probably too undignified to make contact. But if you're the one to make the first move on this, it could turn out to be amazing"

"Maybe I don't care if he does or not." Maisie and her silly obsession with happily ever afters.

"Come on, Val, you know you care about him at least a little."

"Why is everyone telling me what I feel?" I groaned. "I just want to take this as it comes. Let it work its way out naturally."

"So if he asked you to try and like him sober, you'd do it?" Lottie asked.

"I don't know," I shrugged. "I doubt he would though."

"I guess we're just going to have to wait and find out," A voice said from behind me. I turned to see Alastair, dressed in his usual clothes with a hard look on his face. How much of the conversation had he heard? And why on Earth did he look so pissed?

Before I could respond his scowl flipped to a mock friendly smile and he turned to leave. The encounter was so strange that my mind was reeling when I felt my phone vibrate from my skirt pocket. Logan.

Still keen to try if you are.