Logan

• You could at least pretend that you're glad to see me.

Logan didn't even look up from his laptop.

• For what?

You rolled your eyes, kicking off your heels at the door. It had been a rough day: suppliers let you down, the coffee machine broke, and you were living with a man who treated you like office furniture.

• Well, you know, we're married.

• Fictitious.

• Of course, - you chuckled and went to the kitchen.

This marriage was good for both of you. He needed a respectable wife to keep suspicion off his business. You needed protection. It's simple: he pays the rent on your bakery and provides security, you show up to parties with him and keep your mouth shut. The perfect deal.

But living under the same roof with this ice guy turned out to be more difficult than you thought.

*Logan didn't interfere in your life, and you tried not to interfere in his. But sometimes, at night, when you heard him talking on the phone, his voice low and even, with a hint of steel in it, you wondered: * What have I gotten myself into?

You opened the fridge and found that someone had eaten your strawberry cheesecake again.

• Logan, - you returned to the living room, crossing your arms over your chest. - You ate my dessert again.

He finally raised his head.

• I'll buy a new one.

• That's not it! - You came closer. - You're just somehow... impossible! Cold, distant, serious all the time...

He slowly closed the laptop.

— We agreed not to interfere with each other.

“We agreed that we would behave like normal people, and not like two strangers locked in the same apartment.

Logan stood up. He was taller than you, looking down at you, but for the first time, there was a flicker of something… alive in his gaze.

• Do you want me to be nice to you? - The voice became lower, softer, but there was something dangerous in it.

.