Page 17 of Logan

He even made the bed. Damn it, I didn’t make mine.

Hurrying back to the other bedroom to rectify the oversight, I nearly collide with him in the hallway.

“Have you finished packing?”

I nod, feeling slightly dizzy. “Yes, but?—”

“Good.” He strides past me into the bedroom and slams the door behind him, leaving me standing alone in the hallway.

Dick.He deserves to sleep in an unmade bed tonight.

I spend the entire day strolling through the bustling streets, capturing snapshots of the stoic soldiers stationed at Buckingham Palace. With a mischievous grin, I even stick out my tongue, half expecting a playful response, but am met only with their unwavering discipline.

I walk to a nearby park next, surrounded by vibrant greenery and the chatter of colorful parrots. Taking a seat on a weathered bench, I enjoy the tranquility as I share my peanuts with the squirrels darting around.

I read somewhere that these squirrels differ from those back home, but to me, they look exactly the same, their fluffy tails twitching with curiosity.

Despite the enjoyment of my exploration, a twinge of loneliness nags at me. Traveling alone in a foreign land isn’t quite what I envisioned. I had hoped that the bustle of the city and the novelty of new experiences would dull the ache of being alone, but it only seems to amplify it.

Maybe being alone is my destiny.

I rise from the bench and make my way back to Piccadilly Circus, my heart skipping a beat as I catch sight of him.

Logan.

Instinctively, I dart behind a nearby red mailbox, my pulse racing. But why am I hiding? I’ve done nothing wrong.

I peek out from behind my makeshift cover, feeling a bit like a stalker. Across the sidewalk, Logan strides in his signature suit, engrossed in conversation on his phone. He doesn’t spare a glance in my direction, completely unaware of my presence.

Such a waste of beauty on a man who doesn’t care about anyone but himself.

Logan ends his call and slips the phone into his pocket before coming to a halt. I duck behind the mailbox once more, wondering if he caught me observing him.

I let several seconds pass, then peek out again, puzzled by his actions. He bends down, engaging in conversation with a homeless man seated on the pavement. They exchange words, and then Logan extends a hand, assisting the homeless man to his feet.

My jaw drops.What is happening?

They continue down the side street, disappearing from view. I chew on my lip, torn between curiosity and caution. Should I follow him? Purely for research purposes, of course. I just need to know if I’m working for a serial killer or something.

I cross the road with extreme caution. In this foreign city, the traffic seems to come from all directions, leaving me in a state of perpetual confusion.

Peering around the street corner, I catch a glimpse of them entering a nearby building. I move closer, stopping just shy ofwhere they vanished from sight. It’s a delicate balance—close enough to observe, yet distant enough to avoid detection.

The building turns out to be a quaint coffee shop. I spot Logan’s unmistakable silhouette, his broad shoulders and long legs accentuated by his dark suit.

He engages in conversation with one of the staff, then hands the employee what seems to be a credit card. Moments later, he guides the homeless man to an empty table, where Logan sets out sandwiches and drinks before him.

He’s taken a homeless man off the street and into a restaurant? Could they possibly know each other? It doesn’t align with the rumors swirling around him. The infamous Logan, The Dark Lord, showing compassion to a stranger?

Logan turns, and I press my face against the wall, hoping he hasn’t noticed me. My heart races in my chest as I wait for him to move on. After what feels like an eternity, he finally leaves, disappearing into the flow of the city.

I decide it’s best to abandon my mission. Following him any further would be pushing it, even for me.

I glance at the time on my phone and determine it’s late enough to reach out to Emery. I need to share today’s events with someone, and she’s the only one who would truly understand.

Making my way to a nearby park, I settle onto a bench, the cool air offering a soothing balm to my swirling thoughts.

You up?