But Logan wasn’t done.
“I don’t care about this place. I don’t care about the money, or the house, or what my father thinks. I care about you.” His voice dropped lower, softer. “And now that I finally have you, I will never,never, Adrian, let you go.”
Adrian’s chest ached.
Logan had no idea just how much Adrian wanted to believe him.
And yet, as Logan’s grip tightened around him, as the fire in his eyes blazed like the molten heart of the sun sinking into the horizon, Adrian knew—
Maybe, just maybe, hecould.
Because standing before him, beneath the weight of years lost and the ache of time slipping between their fingers like sand, washisLogan.
Not the man in tailored suits and polished shoes, not the heir to empires built on steel and saltwater trade, not the son of wealth and expectation.
No.
This was the same Logan who had once slept beside him in cabins with roofs that leaked like broken seashells, who had curled against him ontoo-small motel beds where the sheets smelled of strangers and dreams half-lived.
The same Logan who had eaten food from questionable diners, who had worn the same sun-bleached shirt for days on end, shrugging with that lazy smirk, saying,“I wore it for like ten minutes, then it’s off, it’s basically clean.”
The Logan who had walked endless trails with him, their feet bruised and their spirits wild, who had jumped into roaring waters with him, letting the ocean pull them under, letting the waves roll over their heads like the sky’s embrace, because they knew, together, they would always rise.
This—this—was the Logan who had claimed Adrian’s heart, flowing with the inevitability of the tide caressing the shore.
The house, the wealth, the legacy, it was just background noise, a distant hum, a mirage shimmering on the horizon.
What mattered was here, now.
The man in front of him.
The man he had always loved.
So when Logan raised his hand to knock, his fingers trembling ever so slightly, Adrian stayed beside him.
The heavy mahogany door swung open, and there they stood.
Logan’s mother, Samantha, was dressed in casual yet elegant loungewear, the kind of effortless luxury that looked simple but made a statement. Her diamond earrings and necklace caught the soft light, and her hair was styled. She had clearly been expecting them, and the late hour did not seem to bother her.
His father, Robert, stood beside her, dressed in dark jeans and a crisp white shirt, appearing more casual than what Logan was accustomed to seeing him wear. It was obvious he was preparing to leave; his tailored suitwas probably waiting somewhere, perfectly pressed, alongside a private jet ready to fly him across the world.
Logan wondered if the man ever slept, if there was even a second of his life he didn’t devote to work. Or if, even now, standing here at the doorway of his own home, he was thinking about profit margins and shipping routes.
The moment his father’s gaze locked onto him, Logan felt the shift.
“Logan.” Robert’s voice carried the weight of both distress and fury, his sharp blue eyes narrowing. “Nice to see you. Now, where the hell have you been?!”
Samantha let out a quiet sigh and placed a hand on her husband’s arm. “Robert, not now.” Her voice was even, controlled, as though she had spent years smoothing over the cracks in this family. She turned back to Logan with a warm, if slightly cautious, smile.
“Come on in, Logan,” she said, stepping aside to let them through. “And who is this lovely guest you’ve brought with you? You look so familiar…”
Her gaze landed on Adrian, studying him with mild curiosity.
Adrian stiffened. Logan felt it immediately, the tension coiling in his frame.
“I’m Adrian,” he said cautiously, his voice measured. After a brief pause, he added, “I think we crossed paths at Logan’s… hum… ahh… wedding.”
At the wordwedding, Logan caught the subtle recoil in his tone. The syllables dragged against Adrian’s throat, his vocal cords tightening and stretching around them, an instrument straining to reach a note beyond its range.
