to seeing your parents?”
I rest my head against the plush seat on Logan’s private jet while we wait to take off and turn to where he’s sitting next to me. He’s wearing a navy-blue suit today with brown Italian brogues and a green tie that matches his eyes. His light brown hair touches his collar where it’s grown longer during our trip.
He’s every inch Logan Rich, billionaire tycoon, leaning his elbows on his knees as he frowns at his laptop screen on the table in front of us.
The man I’ve looked at for years, but never really seen.
After last night, we both moved on autopilot, packing, and leaving the island, catching the boat to the mainland where Logan’s driver picked us up and brought us to the airport. Logan didn’t kiss me again. He didn’t force me to talk about what happened last night. To acknowledge the tenderness that crept between us. It feels like the blues at the end of a wonderful holiday. When you realize it’s time to step back into reality.
That’s all this is, this blue, sinking feeling in my stomach as I watched him effortlessly slip back into work mode when we boarded his jet. It’s a blip. A tinge of bittersweetness that real life starts again today. I’ve spent weeks in one of the most beautiful countries on earth with a man I hated with every fiber of my being when we left London. And who I’m returning home being, not friends exactly, not… well, not anything. But not hating either.
My hate for Logan Rich stayed in Italy when I packed my suitcase this morning. When I packed the program from the opera, the green gown, the silk lingerie, and the monogrammed slippers. And in its place, there’s an acceptance. I may never forget all those years I felt miserable and blamed Logan for. But I see now that it wasn’t as black and white as I thought. He made mistakes. But he isn’t cruel on purpose. All the times I’ve shouted at him, screamed that I hate him, he’s never said it back once. He’s never told me I had no right to feel the way I felt. He didn’t dismiss it.
He apologized.
If this trip taught me something, then it’s that Logan Rich isn’t afraid to admit when he’s wrong. And if he can do it, then I owe it to him to try too.
He glances at me with a smile. “I’m looking forward to seeing Dad now that he won’t be talking about weddings.”
“You two are close, aren’t you?”
His smile widens, and he chuckles, looking back at his laptop. “When he isn’t coming up with wild ideas, yeah.”
I turn to look out of the window at the morning sun on the airstrip. I never saw Logan talking to his dad on this trip. His mum twice, but never his dad. Drew said they usually talk multiple times a day.
“Well, I hope you sort it all out. He’s just acting out of misplaced love. It’s what dads do.”
“If only that were true in every case,” he mumbles.
I look back at him with a frown but don’t ask what he means. Now isn’t the time to get into a heavy conversation with him. It’s never the time to get into a heavy conversation with him. It only makes things more complicated when they don’t need to be. Like me, him, and this trip. It was a release from years of built-up hatred, culminating in sex. That’s all.
And I don’t regret a single moment.
I left London weighed down by the past. And I’m going home freer, ready to move on with my life.
Italy shifted something. It’s what I needed.
And now I need to move on and leave it behind me. We both do. Logan’s got project Vex to run and things to smooth over with his dad. And I’ve got an article to write, and Nate Black to interview. A smile tugs at my lips. It’s what I’ve been dreaming of for months.
Logan clears his throat. “Hey, Smiles. I got you something to listen to on the flight back. Check your email.”
“What is it?”
I pull my phone out of my purse and open my emails.
“What? How did you get this? It’s not out for another month. Logan?” I knock his shoulder, and he shrugs. The smirk that I always thought was smug now looks just… happy as it lifts his lips.
“I’ve got friends in publishing. Just don’t share it with anyone, or I’ll have a guy called Jaxon King after my head.”
“The Jaxon King?” My eyes widen and Logan shrugs again as if he didn’t just mention the UK’s biggest name in publishing.
I catch his chuckle as I pull my earbuds from my purse. Bastard, he knows exactly who I’m talking about.
I grin as I open the audiobook file for the final book in Cameron and Frederica’s story. Nate’s character might be called Cameron. But in my head, it’s Nate. Whenever I listen to his voice, it’s always Nate Black I imagine, no matter what part he’s reading. I can’t believe I’ll be meeting him face to face in a few days.
“Thank you.” I put my hand on Logan’s knee. Something clouds his eyes, passing quickly over his features before he places his hand on top and squeezes.
“No problem. You can tell me what happens.”
“Seriously? As if you’re invested?” I smile as I take my hand back and put my earbuds in.
“Just tell me if they end up together at the end.” His eyes twinkle, and I roll mine in response.
“It’s a romance, of course they do.”
I turn to look out of the window as I press play.
“Frederica, you have to stop fighting me.”
“It’s not that simple.”
The two grow more and more emotional, until they’re kissing passionately and Cameron’s murmuring her name over and over.
My eyes flick to Logan as I stop the audio. He got this for me before it’s even released. I should be grateful. I should devour it, like he expects me to do. But maybe it’s my earbuds playing up again, because I just… can’t. Nate’s voice doesn’t sound right. And although I understand Frederica’s hesitations, something about the way she keeps Nate’s character, Cameron, at arm’s length all the time has a ball tightening low in my gut. Why can’t she see what’s right under her nose?
Logan’s oblivious to my reaction. His brows are pulled low as he reads through a document on his screen, his lips moving as he reads. Lips I spent the whole night kissing.
For the last time.
I snap my eyes away and swipe through my phone, opening a different file and pressing play.
“We’re so happy to have you onboard, Trent.”
I close my eyes and lean back in my seat as Logan’s smooth, deep voice soothes my ears. This makes more sense. I’m technically on work time while on the flight, so I should do some actual work. Like listening to the recorded meetings for putting the final touches to the article.
I listen to Logan Rich’s calm, confident tone.
I listen to it all the way back to London.
