November 29, 2020—Seattle, Washington—The Next Day #2
“So, I started looking for you.” Logan swallowed, his voice quieter now, but no less intense.
“And then I found this place. Signed the contract. But before I could even move in, I got the call.” His fingers curled against the back of Adrian’s neck, holding him close.
“That they found you. And I did the only thing I knew how to do. I ran to the airport and got a ticket to the fucking Middle East.”
Adrian let out a short, breathy laugh, shaking his head. “You’re insane.”
“Completely.” Logan grinned. “You love it.”
Adrian just hummed in response, but his fingers brushed lightly over Logan’s wrist, lingering.
They hurried inside, the glass doors sighing shut behind them, locking out the cold and wrapping them in the building’s quiet, artificial warmth. The lobby stretched before them, polished and modern. The concierge barely looked up.
“Where to?” he asked, his tone as routine as the ticking of a clock.
Logan straightened, shaking off the weight of the past few hours. “Penthouse.”
A flicker of curiosity crossed the concierge’s face as he turned to his computer, fingers gliding over the keys. A quiet moment passed, the hum of the city barely pressing against the glass, before he nodded.
In the elevator, Logan swapped the fob, and the doors sealed them off from the rest of the building. The ride up was silent, broken only by the soft hum of the elevator and the occasional shift of their suitcases.
When the doors finally slid open, Logan stepped forward first, fishing the key from his pocket and unlocking the door.
He had expected emptiness, a few boxes standing in the middle of the room in disarray, furniture scattered, some still unpacked, others covered.
But when the door swung open, the space was pristine.
Polished floors gleamed under soft, recessed lighting.
The scent of fresh wood and clean linen lingered in the air.
“Huh,” Logan muttered, stepping inside.
Adrian arched a brow. “Expecting chaos?”
“Honestly? Yeah.” Logan let out a quiet laugh.
He turned back, reaching for Adrian’s hand, pulling him across the threshold. “It’s your home too, you know that, right?” His voice was softer now, a promise rather than a question.
Adrian tilted his head, studying Logan’s silver eyes, searching. “Is that so?”
Logan held his gaze. “Yeah.” There was no hesitation, no doubt. Just certainty.
Adrian exhaled, shaking his head slightly, but his fingers curled into Logan’s.
“Let’s look around,” Logan offered, squeezing his hand. “I barely had time to see it when I signed for it.”
Adrian followed him through the space, both of them moving slowly. The apartment was modern, sleek, but not cold. Dark wooden floors stretched beneath their feet, soft against the quiet hush of their steps.
There were two master bedrooms, one larger than the other, each with its own bathroom and a large walk-in closet attached.
Logan’s belongings, still packed in boxes, were neatly stacked in the smaller room. He let out a quiet chuckle. “I guess the movers figured I’d rather have one room without my mess.”
“That’s really considerate of them,” Adrian remarked.
“Let’s freshen up before we go?” Logan suggested, running a hand through his travel-worn hair.
His voice was casual, but there was something beneath it, something careful, something measured.
He glanced at his phone. “I already texted my mom. She’s really excited.
I told her I was coming… and that I wasn’t coming alone. ”
Adrian nodded. “I’m a bit nervous about meeting them,” he admitted, letting out a small chuckle.
“Do you trust me?” Logan asked, holding his gaze.
“Of course.”
“Then don’t worry about it,” he whispered softly, taking Adrian’s hand and gently pressing his lips to the back of it. “It will be okay.”
Every cell in Adrian’s body seemed to melt as Logan’s lips brushed softly against his skin. His silvery eyes bore into him with a wildfire of longing and admiration, creating a gaze so forceful it should be outlawed by the heavens.
All he managed was a nod.
“So, how about freshening up before we head out?” Logan asked again, planting another quick kiss on Adrian’s cheek before walking toward the bathroom door.
Adrian shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind. He let out a sigh, stretched his arms, and tried to shake off the stiffness from the long flight. “Yeah, almost a whole day on a plane. That’s brutal.” He followed Logan to the shower, massaging the back of his neck. “Forgot it was that long.”
But then the words settled, and so did the silence.
Because the last time Adrian had been on a flight here…
had been for Logan’s wedding. And the flight back?
That was something Adrian had spent the last two years trying to erase from his memory.
A slow suffocation at 12,000 meters, his heart breaking in quiet, invisible ways, with no one to see and no way to escape.
His throat tightened. “Sorry,” he murmured, eyes flicking away. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
Logan didn’t hesitate. He reached for Adrian’s hand, lacing their fingers together like an anchor. “I know,” he said softly. And with that, they stepped inside the bathroom, and Logan shut the door behind them.
Logan rummaged through the bathroom cabinets, finding a neatly arranged collection of toiletries: new bottles of soap and shampoos, fresh toothbrushes and toothpaste, everything untouched.
He figured the cleaning services he hired upon signing had ensured the apartment was stocked with essentials.
He made a mental note to thank them, but right now, all that mattered was Adrian.
And then the shower.
What should have been a quick rinse stretched into something else, something slower, something deeper.
Their lips found each other between the steam, between the rivulets of water tracing over skin and scars, between the unspoken apologies and the weight of everything they had lost. It was desperate, not just from longing but from time itself, from all the months and miles that had separated them.
Hands mapped out what was once familiar, as if trying to remember—no, trying to make sure they never forgot again.
By the time they finally pulled away, breathless and warm, they had lost track of how long they had been in there.
“We have to go,” Logan murmured, even though the last thing he wanted was to leave this room, this moment. He wanted to crawl into bed with Adrian, press close, let sleep take them somewhere softer. But instead, they finished their shower and stepped out.
“My dad’s leaving in a few hours. Flight to Denmark. Business stuff. He could be late since he is taking his private plane, but he wouldn’t.”
Adrian, still towel-drying his hair, gave him a small, tired smile. “Then let’s go.”
He finished pulling on his clothes, and together, they stepped back out into the world.
The drive wasn’t long, but it felt like an eternity. Logan’s grip on the wheel was too tight, his pulse hammering at his throat. The confrontation with his father loomed like an approaching storm, dark and inevitable. But this was exactly why he had to do it, why it had to be now.
Adrian needed to be hospitalized in the morning. Logan wasn’t going to let this moment slip past. It was time to stand his ground.
He reached across the center console, taking Adrian’s hand in his, feeling the warmth of it, the solidity of him. “I’ll show you the city someday,” Logan said, stealing a quick glance before returning his eyes to the road. “I promised you that a long time ago… and I plan to keep that promise.”
Adrian’s fingers tightened around his, his smile a mix of love and sorrow, as if he were holding something fragile between his teeth. “I know,” was all he said, and that was enough.
The iron gates of the Vaughn estate had rolled open, revealing a world so far removed from Adrian’s that it might as well have been another planet.
The private road leading up to the mansion was lined with sculpted trees. On either side of the driveway, marble fountains sprayed arcs of water over sculptures that he could barely make out in the night light.
Adrian glanced out the window and spotted a cluster of smaller homes scattered across the estate.
These homes were at least three times the size of his small Tel Aviv apartment, boasting sleek stone, sweeping terraces, and the kind of upscale living that probably included servants and private pools.
The main house stood at the top of the hill, all glass and pale stone, its walls catching the night like mirrors.
Light from inside spread in a steady, artificial glow that made the place seem detached from everything around it.
It was vast, too much to take in at once.
Adrian found himself tracing the memory of the long drive from the gates, the manicured trees, the perfect lawns.
Whoever lived like this probably had other estates just like it, scattered across the world, identical in their perfection.
The drive curved into a wide circular court where a black Rolls-Royce waited under the portico. Logan slowed the car and gave a small nod to the driver, who straightened from where he’d been leaning against the car, dressed in a sharp black suit.
Adrian barely registered the soft purr of the engine shutting off.
His body had gone rigid, hands gripping his jeans like he was bracing for impact.
A stray thought crossed his mind, maybe he should’ve gone shopping first, bought something that looked like it belonged here.
Or at least cleaned his shoes before stepping onto that driveway, before walking into a place like this.
Logan stepped out, rounding the car in an easy motion before opening Adrian’s door himself. “Come on,” he said softly.
Adrian forced himself to move.