Chapter 15

15

L ights turned low. Blurred shadows from the ceiling fan rotated through my line of sight, in and out. Its lazy hum set a backdrop to the breathy gasps Logan wrung from me. His weight trapped me against the bed as he straddled the back of my thighs, his open shirt whispering over my skin, thumbs spreading my cheeks wide.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said.

Unh? I made an incoherent sound and pushed my face into the pillow.

“About how we can make this work.” His hands kneaded my ass, digging into muscle. “The long-distance thing.”

I let my head loll to the side, enough to speak without a mouthful of pillowcase. “Logan?”

“Hmm?”

“Really— now ?” I hissed in a breath when his fingers skimmed over my balls. “Not a lot of blood in my brain.”

“But honest communication is important .” It came with a teasing lilt, but I caught just a hint of something serious underneath, like he actually needed to talk this out. Fine.

“Hey. Hey. ” I reached back for a gentle push that made him move off me, then rolled onto my back so I could study him. The soft glow of the bedroom lamp made a halo of his hair, his face painted in a golden shimmer.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, a frayed edge to the question. Oh. Not so confident, was he? And yeah, maybe I hadn’t given him quite enough just yet. Sure, I’d told him I loved him—but as for our future, he’d been the only one making plans.

“Nothing. Just...” I framed his face with both hands and shifted closer, my lips grazing the corner of his mouth. He turned his head to make it a proper kiss.

Minutes—lost to the slide of our tongues and the faintly cool breeze that rustled the curtains.

When we pulled apart, it wasn’t by much, foreheads pressed together and legs tangled. “Anyway,” he began in a murmur. “I was thinking—I can stay longer, finish my thesis here. And bonus, if Nia accepts the resort manager job, I can help with the transition. She said it depends on whether you forgive me.” A barely noticeable pause trailed the sentence. “Feels like we’re doing okay on that end. Right?”

“Yeah, we are.” I danced my fingers down the knobs of his spine and considered how to phrase my next words. ‘I’m moving back home, Logan. Back to Miami. It’s for me, not for you—I’ve been hiding long enough. But now it’s also for us.’

Before I could settle on anything, Logan continued as though now that we were talking, finally really talking , he needed to get it all out, everything he’d been holding back. “So, I can help Nia with the transition, give her time to see her sister, too. And we’ve got to keep the dive center running—I’m not certified as an instructor, but I have a boating license. I can drive the boat and Tom can work with you while we hire more people.”

I smiled—couldn’t help it. “Working with the lowly peasants?”

“I hear it’s a good way to learn how things really work. Much better than posing as a guest.” Humor glinted in his eyes and voice, and I should stop this—tell him that yeah, I’d stay until things settled, but even rush hour in Miami didn’t count as long distance. Then again, maybe he needed to get this out. Prove himself.

“Smart advice,” I told him.

“I thought so.” He bumped our noses together, a sweet gesture that made me swallow against something stupid that felt close to tears. “Oh,” Logan added, “and I asked my aunt and uncle to amend your contract. Clarify that your photos really are yours.”

“You…” It didn’t quite compute. “You told the big bosses about me?”

“Well, yeah. Needed to explain why I was stepping back, didn’t I?”

“And you asked them to amend my contract?”

“Of course.” Just like that—no big deal, nothing in his tone suggesting he’d want to lord it over me. God, I’d never stood a chance, had I?

He moved on without even waiting for a thanks. “They agreed to hire a bit more staff in general. Locals, if we can. There’s no need to stretch the staff quite that thin. And I’d like to see what we can do to improve our environmental footprint. I mean, still running a profit, obviously—it’s not a charity. But I believe we can do better.”

A hot swell of affection washed through me. I caught his mouth for a quick, light kiss before I asked, “And they’re good with that?”

“Yeah. They’re good people, you know?” Logan stilled for a beat, eyes searching mine. “What I’m trying to say…” His voice dropped to a near whisper. “Getting things right around here—I want to help Nia with that. It’d be sort of a trial run for a potential Sustainability Lead role. But I also know how much you hate the idea of dating the boss, so…” Another pause. “Would that be okay? Just until we get things on track.”

God.

“Logan.” Slow and serious. I wound both hands into his hair and held his gaze. “I’m not running, okay? I’m with you.”

He watched me with liquid shadows in his eyes before a full smile turned up the corners of his mouth. It felt like the room shifted around us, shadows deepening and walls skittering away, Logan the only thing in focus. “Six hours,” he said .

I frowned. “Six hours?”

“That’s the ideal case.”

“You talking stamina?” I let my mouth quirk up. “Don’t think I’m gonna last that long.”

He exhaled a breathy chuckle. “Visiting here. I did the math, you know? On how long it takes from the moment I leave my apartment. I can’t hang around forever—but I’ll visit. Lots. So much you’ll get tired of me.”

My chest broke open just a little more. I was so fucking gone for him, Christ, no dry land in sight.

“I won’t.” I cupped the back of his head, fingertips tracing the line where skin met hair. Anchoring him as much as myself. “Won’t get tired of you. But it’s not... No need to visit. I won’t be here.”

Sudden tension knotted his muscles, and no, that wasn’t—no.

“Hey, no.” I shook my head and took a deep breath. “Sorry, that came out wrong. What I meant is... Well, Katie says hi. She didn’t remember a Logan Fox. A Logan Prescott, though? Yeah.”

“Katie?” Confusion still twisted his mouth.

“I’m moving back to Miami.” The words tasted strange on my tongue—not wrong, just new and a little surreal.

“You...” His eyes went wide with surprise. “Milo, that’s...” He trailed off, his face soft and serious. “If you’re doing this for me—? I don’t want you to resent me later.”

“No, babe.” Babe. I let it go. “I’m doing it for myself. I called Katie this afternoon, before you and I even talked.”

“But you love it here.” His voice was thick with something that made my pulse stutter, the curve of his mouth achingly vulnerable. I pulled him in, fingers tucked into the silky strands of his hair, kissing him, slow and thorough. He fell into it like I was gravity.

“It’s been a beautiful escape.” I shaped the words against his lips. “But it’s time I stop running.”

“Milo, I...” He swallowed, eyes glittering. “Are you sure ?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

All tension drained from him, rushing away like water. He rolled on top of me and seared our lips together. I tilted my head up for him—falling, floating, not sure which way was up or down.

“I love you.” He made it sound like a promise, and, oh. Felt like touching down, my sense of balance restored. I inhaled and reached for a grin.

“I know.”

He grinned back. “Good.”

We stayed like that for a minute, suspended in the moment, time turned irrelevant. The ceiling fan kept spinning its whispering tales. It was a gradual slide into awareness—the weight of his body and the press of skin, shimmering heat seeping back in around the edges of my vision. When I shifted under him, legs falling open, his eyes went dark. Still he waited, watching me.

I dug my fingers into his back muscles. “Enough talking.”

His mouth gained an impish tilt. “You telling me to shut up?”

“I’m telling you to fuck me already.”

“Language, Milo,” he said, all prim and proper. “Personally, I prefer the term ‘making love.’”

Idiot. It felt like I might never stop smiling. “As long as it ends with your dick in me, I’m cool.”

“You’re hot,” he corrected.

My laugh melted into a groan when he nudged the tip of a finger into me, still slippery from earlier. Fuck yes . I spread my thighs and moved into the stretch. “C’mon, more.”

“At your service.” A grin shone through Logan’s voice, teeth nipping at my chin as he added a second finger. My vision went a little hazy. Christ .

“Thought it was the other way around,” I managed.

“Nah. Mutual, if anything.” Even though his tone was conversational, his voice was rougher than normal, a hint deeper. He added a third finger, his other hand squeezing my waist.

“Logan?”

He made an inquisitive noise, mouth open against my throat. Each twist of his fingers dusted my vision in sparks .

I caught his bottom lip between my teeth, then wound a hand into his hair for a gentle pull. “Stop teasing.”

“Okay.” It was Logan, though, so the easy acquiescence came with a deliberate drag of his hand along my cock as his fingers slid free. Yes . He stretched over me to reach for a condom, and I raised myself up to suck one of his nipples into my mouth. His breath hitched, the beautiful swell of his biceps trembling with the effort of holding still. Ah, payback was sweet.

“Milo.” His voice went quiet on my name. He shifted to the side, eyes raking down my naked body before he held my gaze. “Do we need this?”

I glanced at the foil package pinched between his thumb and forefinger, and— oh . I hadn’t. Not that. Not since Michael. And Logan was…

He was more. So much more.

Slowly, I shook my head, watching him. “Not as far as I’m concerned.”

“Me neither. I’ve never... you know.” He blinked and cleared his throat. “Never done this, uh—without.”

“But you’ve had like a dozen boyfriends.” It wasn’t quite a question, surprise rather than insecurity shading my tone. Yesterday, maybe even an hour ago, I might have felt unsettled by how his past compared to mine. Now?

‘I’ve decided not to take over as manager here.‘

Yeah, he’d proven himself.

“All casual, though. Nothing like this. Not even close .” He tossed the wrapper aside before he returned for another kiss, covering me up, his tongue teasing into my mouth. The dull rub of sweaty skin against the sheets and the wet noises of kissing felt like the only sounds left in the world.

There were no angel choirs when he finally pushed into me, no earth-shattering revelations. It was still us . And yet—more. Yeah, it had been good before, even great. But this felt like a whole new level, playful and open, slow heat in each shift of our bodies.

The way I clung to him, arms and legs wrapped around his body. Sweet drag as he filled me, my stomach quivering with each snap of his hips. Beautiful, so fucking beautiful like this—his eyes fluttering shut, lips parted to hiss in air, exposed line of his throat as his head arched. I dug my fingers into his back, holding on, mapping the lines of his muscles.

“Logan.” I could barely shape his name, my hips arching up to meet him, my hands closing around the back of his neck to pull him down. Sweaty touch of our foreheads, syrupy juxtaposition to the way his body rippled with each thrust.

Breathing him in. The bright, clean scent of his cologne mixed with a faint sting of sweat. Home .

Our mouths caught, tongues sliding hot and wet as he buried himself inside. Desperate, shuddering to get impossibly closer.

“Logan—,” I started and broke off as his hips rocked back and forth in small, ragged hitches. God . I gathered my thoughts, tried again. “Thought you were at my service?”

He exhaled a breathy laugh. “Can’t read minds, can I? Gonna need some clear instructions.”

“Okay, then how’s this for instructions?” I paused and tightened around him. His arms flexed, mouth falling open, cheeks flushed a deep pink, pupils blown so wide they just about swallowed his irises. So fucking gorgeous. Mine . I waited until he looked at me and smiled. “Fuck me.”

He smiled back, simply watching me for a beat. Then he wrapped his fingers around me and withdrew nearly all the way before he snapped his hips forward, and again, each jolt sending stars scattering through my vision, my breath coming out in quiet little pants that matched his rhythm.

“Like this?” he asked, a little smug but for the crack in his voice. His fist jerked me rough and quick, cresting pleasure rendering all thoughts slippery.

“Exactly like this,” I said, and I meant it—meant it in so many ways. I reached up to frame the curve of his jaw, thumb tracing the line of his cheekbone, and he curved down to kiss me, hips shoving forward and filling me deep .

“Milo, God.” He twisted his wrist around my cock, his thumb stroking over the crown, body hitching in short, hard thrusts. Mouth sliding over mine. “I love you.”

Heat snapped through me and zipped along my spine, body clamping down around him. I spilled wet and slick between us, resplendent darkness like a gentle flood. Could feel him shuddering into me, his rhythm lost to a few last, mindless shoves before he went still. I clung to him. Holding on through the aftershocks, rippling through me like the crackle of fireworks. Each minute twitch of his hips sent a shudder through me.

He dipped his head for an intimate, unhurried press of our mouths. My fingers slipped through his hair, thumb gliding along the curve of his jaw as our breathing slowed.

“God.” I tugged him down and wrapped my arms around him. “I love you.” The words tasted bright and new, as though I’d never said them before to anyone.

He inhaled deeply and brushed a kiss against my throat before he settled, still inside me, his face turned into the crook of my neck. I shifted just enough for his weight to feel comfortable, tangled together, no space left between us. Sweaty and gross and perfect, perfect . We’d need to move eventually, but dawn was a long way off.

I closed my eyes and held on to him.

Early rain had washed across the island. Everything glistened, trees dripping in thick, languid drops, their leaves heavy with moisture.

Like usual, Nia and I were hiding at the top of the stairs while Des bustled about on the first floor, delivering enough breakfast to feed an army without comment. Part of the job description, I supposed—the ability to witness a murder without ever pausing in pouring a glass of champagne. I clutched my coffee against the vague sense that things were still shifting under my feet.

“Sir.” Des’s smooth voice carried up to us. “If I may? ”

“Logan,” came the well-worn correction. It was a song-and-dance routine that Logan and Des went through every few days. “It’s Logan.”

“Logan, yes. Of course.” Des cleared his throat. “Thank you for acting on my concerns about Richard. I wasn’t sure I’d be taken seriously, and I know his financial performance was good.”

Huh.

“Yeah.” Logan’s reply was dry. “Too bad his values didn’t align.”

”There is that.” Des’s tone carried a half-suppressed laugh, the kind of familiarity he would never show with a normal guest.

“Seriously,” Logan said a moment later, “I’m glad you spoke up on behalf of the staff. And I’m glad my aunt and uncle sent me here to check. It’s been… an experience.”

“Des knew?” I asked in a murmur, shifting to meet Nia’s eyes. “This whole time?”

She blinked, processing. “Well, he’s been here forever. Like, first time Logan was here? Des would’ve been around. And I guess if anyone were to speak up against Richard on our behalf… Well. Des would have the credibility.”

That… made sense. And… fuck. Des had handled the paperwork for Logan and Tom, filed their dive certifications, all that jazz. It was perfectly common, so we’d seen no reason to double-check his work.

“Bastard,” I said. “A little warning would have been nice, spared me some heartache.”

“Yeah, but he wouldn’t have wanted to risk Logan’s identity getting out. I mean, what if Richard had suddenly started acting like a decent person?” Nia pursed her lips as she studied me. “Also, if you’d known—would you have given Logan even a lick of a chance?”

“No.” It was true—I’d have kept things professional, would have ignored Logan’s dimples and magnificent body, his charm and quick mind. I exhaled and glanced down at my coffee. “So. I guess it’s a good thing Des kept his mouth shut.”

Nia stayed quiet, but the soft bump of her shoulder filled in the blanks.

Once Des had left, we made our way downstairs to join the other three on the terrace. Kyle was sprawled on a sun lounger in skimpy trunks, arms behind his head like he owned the place, while Tom and Logan were seated at the table, pouring another round of fresh coffee for everyone. A sun sail stretched over part of the terrace, filtering the morning light into soft hues.

“So,” I said as soon as we stepped outside. “Des is the one who flagged Richard?”

One corner of Logan’s mouth lifted. “Yeah. Been a while since my cousin was last here, but Des knew him from several stays and still had his number. He’s a good guy—Des. Real class act. He helped keep my identity a secret so Richard wouldn’t get tipped off.”

“He did tell us to go the extra mile for you,” Nia threw in, and I blew out a breath along with a faint laugh.

“Yeah, he did.”

“Milo definitely got the memo.” Kyle’s smirk implied a dozen dirty things he had no business imagining, but before I could set him straight, Tom jumped in with a lazy drawl.

“It’s a tough job, but someone’s gotta do it.”

“Oh, yes.” Logan’s voice gained a filthy edge, at odds with the softness in his eyes as he winked at me. “Milo’s a hard worker.”

“Very hands-on,” Kyle agreed.

“Willing to put in all the extra hours,” Nia said because apparently, our friendship meant nothing when faced with a chance to gang up on me.

“You’re on Team Backstab now?” I asked her, and she tossed me a glittering smile as she plopped herself into Tom’s lap and stole his coffee.

“I’m with the fun parade. Come join us—we have cookies.” She leaned further into Tom, who slung a casual arm around her waist. They were taking it easy, seeing where this thing would take them, but something about the comfortable way they existed around each other told me they’d be fine.

Logan tugged me down onto the chair next to him, his fingers light around my wrist. “I’d apologize,” he said. “But Nia’s your friend, and the other two kind of come as a package deal with me.”

I knew it wasn’t how he meant it—his voice was bright and amused, green flecks dancing in the hazel blue of his impossible eyes. Still, it reminded me of Michael driving a successful wedge between my friends and me, of Logan’s ex who’d asked him to pick.

“That’s fair,” I told Logan. “I like Tom. As for Kyle…” I turned to throw Kyle a meaningful look. “You’ll keep your hands off him?”

“Dude.” Kyle’s mouth curled into an infuriatingly superior grin. “Logan’s a fine specimen, don’t get me wrong. But I’m a boobs man.”

“Classy,” Nia said, wry.

“He grows on you,” Logan said.

“Like fungus ,” Kyle announced, as though it was a source of pride. It surprised a laugh out of me, and yeah, we’d be okay.

We settled into breakfast, conversation flowing around me in a happy, lazy current. The air was fresh and earthy after the recent rain, like the entire island had exhaled a deep breath, letting go of whatever had come before. Or maybe I was projecting.

Miami. Moving back yet forward. I hadn’t missed the hectic crowds or traffic at rush hour. Other things, though? There was the skyline at sunset, high-rises glistening against the bay, or the ever-present energy that carried the city along, whether it was music spilling out of bars or tourists flocking to Lincoln Road. A greasy late-night taco from a food truck. The grittiness of it all, the way life twisted and turned in unpredictable ways. Bars that openly flew the rainbow flag.

My parents.

Under the table, Logan’s knee pressed against mine. It was warm and grounding, and I thought about that, too—how he wasn’t my reason to return, no. But I’d be able to kiss him in the middle of a crowd and few would bat an eye.

Nia and I traded forks over a slice of cake, our health pact on hold for the day, while Kyle ribbed Logan and Tom about extending their stay. “Not all of us can be on permanent vacation like a bunch of unemployed schmucks. Some of us work for a living.”

“You work?” Nia sounded mildly surprised.

Kyle tossed her a smug look. “I’m a psychologist.”

I lowered my fork. “I thought you’re a dive instructor? ”

“That was one year. Gets boring after a while, you know?”

No, I didn’t. For me, the way things moved below the surface, the way light cut through the water—it still amazed me, even now.

“Okay,” Nia jumped in. “But a psychologist? You ?”

“Aww, girl. You wound me.” Kyle clasped a dramatic hand to his chest, amusement sparking in his tone. “Don’t need to be emotionally stable myself to dish out good advice.”

“He actually does,” Logan said, unexpectedly serious. “Kyle helped pull me out of my post-adoption identity crisis.”

Huh. Guess there was my daily reminder that I shouldn’t judge people based on first impressions. Subtle, universe.

Kyle countered my eyebrow raise with a solemn nod. “It’s true. So, if you need a good ass-kicking about something? You come straight to me.” His gaze sharpened. “Which is to say that if you hadn’t given my man Logan here another chance, I would have found you.”

I weighed taking offense, but honestly, I got it. That’s what friends were for.

“I’ll keep it in mind,” I told him.

“Good.” He must have caught my underlying message because his expression mellowed, reverting to his default of smug amusement. “You wanna get naked? Logan’s your guy. But if we’re talking emotional striptease, I’ve got you covered. For friends and family, it’s half off my usual rate—partners included.”

“Generous,” I said, deadpan, while Nia leaned towards me, mouth tipped into a smile that blended affection with a hint of teasing.

“You could start with your relationship with your parents.”

She knew me too damn well.

Kyle nodded sagely. “Yeah, that’s one of my patients’ greatest hits.”

“What’s this?” I raised my hands, palms up. “National Gang-Up-On-Milo Day?”

“ So many dirty places this could go,” Kyle commented, while Logan’s knee pressed harder against mine.

“Will you?” he asked in an undertone, the words meant only for me. “Reach out to your parents, I mean. If you’re really going back…” Hi s eyes were soft and hesitant, like the idea of me coming to Miami with him was something he’d yet to grasp fully.

“When I go back,” I corrected, reaching up to thumb at the corner of his mouth until it lifted for me. Only then did I continue. “And… maybe. Yeah. I think so.” The words tasted heavy and raw on my tongue. “I mean, what’ve I got to lose, right?”

He covered my hand with his own, fingers slotting together. “Hey, I’ll be right there with you. Whatever happens.”

“I know,” I said, and what I really meant was, I love you and I trust you and this is it—for me, you’re it. I didn’t say any of that. But the way Logan smiled at me, our ankles knocking together under the table, told me he’d heard it anyway.

I’d arrived.