A wave of shame crashed over him, so sharp it nearly stole his breath. Shame for ever thinking he and Logan could be equals. Shame for that tiny, secondhand-furnished apartment in Tel Aviv, the one he had so proudly called home. The one where Logan had stayed with him, where they had spent the recent nights curled up on his sinking old couch, laughing, kissing, whispering dreams into the dark.
It felt ridiculous now.
He felt ridiculous.
Had Adrian really been fantasizing? Had he truly believed that Logan—the heir to this, a world of private jets and marble mansions, of polished sculptures and luxury cars—could ever belong with someone like him?
The poor boy from southern Israel?
And worse… had he actually taken Logan to his family home? To that tiny apartment with its creaky floors and peeling paint? Had he truly let himself believe that was enough?
What had he been thinking?
Now, more than ever, Adrian understood why Logan had left.
It had nothing to do with fear. It had been inevitable. Adrian longed to transcend time, yearning to revisit those early weeks in Hawaii. He envisioned himself advising his younger self to bury those ambitious dreams deep within, for there was simply no chance of fulfillment. With a wry smile, he imagined encountering his younger self, chuckling at the naivety of that young man. ‘Do you truly believe you could get that guy? Not in a million years, my friend.’
Logan had nothing to gain from being with him. He could offer him nothing. No money, no status, no effortless security. Just a life of struggle, of working-class exhaustion, of a future that could never match the one he was destined for.
And suddenly, Adrian wanted to run.
He wanted to turn around and tell Logan to take him back to the airport. He could catch the next flight home, disappear before they even knocked on that godforsaken door.
Because they were crazy.
Both of them.
This was never going to work.
But before Adrian could step back, Logan moved.
A firm grip closed around his wrist, pulling him forward, forcing him to stop. And before Adrian could say anything, before he could voice the panic clawing at his throat, Logan grabbed his face in both hands—big, warm, steady hands—his thumbs brushing over Adrian’s cheekbones as he bent down, pressing their foreheads together.
“Stop.”
Just one word. Steady. Commanding.
Adrian swallowed hard, trying to look away, but Logan wouldn’t let him.
“Look at me.”
Adrian did.
And all he could think as he gazed into those storm-colored eyes—eyes filled with a fire so raw, so certain, so unshakable—was that Logan could do so much better than him.
Logan, with his expensive suits and that effortless charm. With his brilliant, wicked mind, his degrees from universities that Adrian could only dream of attending. With a last name that carried weight in exclusive circles where Adrian had never set foot. With a wonderful sense of humor and a caring heart. With his magnetic smile and kind eyes that sparkled like the most beautiful star in existence. With his fiery personality that was laced with persistence, courage, and bravery.
Logan, who had every possible door open to him.
And yet, here he was. Holding Adrian’s face like he was something precious. As if he were the only thing that mattered.
And then Logan spoke, his voice thick with conviction, with love, with devotion.
“I chose you, Adrian. Don’t you dare think for a second that you don’t belong with me.”
How had he known, from a single gaze, exactly what was going on in Adrian’s mind? How did he recognize it so quickly and accurately? Was Adrian that obvious, or was Logan just that perceptive?
Adrian squeezed his eyes shut, his breath shaky, his heart breaking open.
