Interlude Logan

INTERLUDE: LOGAN

O h God.

I dropped back onto the bed. The fan spun circles above me, my head spinning right along. Round and round. Out of control. Sunlight slanted through the half-open curtains and painted disorienting stripes on the walls. I was spiraling, spiraling.

This wasn’t… It wasn’t supposed to go like this. I’d had a plan, and now it all just—fuck. Everything unraveling at warp speed, like a sweater that fell apart with one pull of a loose thread.

‘Stay the hell away from me, Logan.’

The ceiling swayed in front of my eyes, wooden beams threatening to tumble down and bury me whole. Maybe this was a bad dream. A cruel illusion conjured by guilt, subconscious punishment for diving ever deeper into an ocean of lies. Yeah. Any minute now I’d wake up, and it’d be morning, and Milo would be next to me. Not hating my guts.

Denial. That was the first stage of grief, right? Then anger, then… something. I couldn’t remember. Didn’t matter.

I’d been poised to tell him. Ready to throw all my cards on the table, take me or leave me , fully expecting Milo to choose Door Two. Me, I’d been all in for... God, I couldn’t even pinpoint when I fell. But him? I’d had precious little hope that he cared about tomorrow. Until Kyle’s intervention, that was. And until today, when I’d learned about Milo’s past.

I got it, now. Got why it felt like he was holding the whole damn deck to his chest. Fucking Michael .

Only now I’d gone and done the same thing. I’d tried to twist things my way, took more than Milo offered because I’d been so fucking desperate to hold on. Desperate enough to cross a line. And someone else might forgive me. But Milo? Fuck . I knuckled at my eyes, breath coming in short, harsh gasps.

No use hoping for a better past.

Dimly, I was aware of shouting outside my door. Nia’s voice, sharp and furious, cut through the walls. Tom’s words were lower, muffled, like he was trying to calm her down. Yeah, good luck. I caught snippets—just enough to get the gist.

“…fired him! You knew. You bloody knew . And you didn’t tell me?”

Of course she’d heard—Milo’s voice had probably brought half the resort to the popcorn booth. Not that I cared. Just… whatever. But too bad for Tom, what with how Nia was tearing into him about Milo getting fired, about me damn near owning this place. Which, not exactly. Fair enough, though.

Well. Guess I was dragging Tom right down with me. Logan Prescott, professional wrecking ball—nice to meet you.

Richard, though. Fucking Richard .

Who’d tipped him off?

I’d met with my aunt and uncle some thirty minutes ago, walked them through a presentation about the changes I proposed for the resort—my job interview, just about. Except I’d also told them I couldn’t do it, had laid it all out for them, my altered plan like a line of dominoes. Richard and Nia, Milo .

My parents had listened in, and I’d expected their disappointment about how I wasn’t following through, taking a step back when I could finally gain some hands-on experience that would prepare me for one day taking over their seafront hotel in Miami. Just the one, nothing like the Prescott chain, but it was a highly rated, popular spot that they ran with pride.

They hadn’t been disappointed. Instead, they’d been impressed with my ideas for this resort—but even more so, they’d been happy I’d found someone.

Yeah. Found Milo, and then lost him again.

I hadn’t told my family that he didn’t know who I was, figured it didn’t matter. I’d meant to come clean tonight. Except someone must have spoken to Richard already. My uncle? Either way, it had triggered a whole fucking cascade. Best laid plans, huh?

Breathe .

The door banged open. Milo? I sat up, my heart lurching along with the too-bright room, and—no. Just Nia. Storming in with Tom right behind, and Kyle was there too because why not? Come on in, everyone. It’s open house. My pity party had plenty of room.

“ You ,” Nia said, voice harsh. She made it sound like a full sentence.

“Me,” I agreed. There was no point in trying to defuse this—whatever she had in store for me, hey, I deserved it.

“You,” she repeated, only this time there was more, “are an arsehole .”

Sure, yeah. I shrugged and sagged back onto the mattress. Time to stare at the ceiling some more.

She stomped over and pushed at my foot. “Say something, fucker.”

I blew out a breath, blinking against the swell of nausea. “Something.”

It was weak, humor a concept that had sailed off to some other planet. Really, though, what did she want from me—an apology? I was sorry, yeah. So fucking sorry. But if I’d told Milo who I was from the start, he’d have bolted like the hounds of hell were on his tail. He’d made it real clear that dating the boss was never going to be on the table.

“Hey, man…” Ah, Kyle’s turn. Except he sounded… careful? It jarred me, just a little, because this was a rare side of Kyle that most peop le never got to see. Usually, he was brash and loud and brought the party, a one-person rave. This? Yeah. Emergency mode activated, it seemed.

I let my head fall to the side and looked at him, at all three of them. Kyle was frowning, his default air of devil-may-care replaced with concern. Next to him, Tom seemed torn between hope and resignation. Nia was staring me down, dark eyes narrowed and arms crossed over her chest like she was weighing what to do with me.

I was used to attention. Right now, it knocked me flat, bile rising in my throat. I swallowed it down. “I’m in love with him, you know?”

Kyle snorted, although his tone was kind. “No shit, Sherlock.”

“Yeah.” Tom sighed. “Tell us something we don’t know.”

Nia’s mouth twisted into something a little thoughtful, her chin tipping up as she assessed me. I wanted to look away—too raw, stripped bare. Instead, I forced myself to hold her gaze because I wasn’t a coward, and anyway, I had nothing left to lose. Might as well give her the satisfaction of seeing me smack dab at rock bottom.

Her expression changed slowly, shifting into something much more open. Still looking at me, she sat down on the edge of the bed. A beat of silence passed.

Then: “Talk.”