CHAPTER SEVEN
Olivia Reed was running on caffeine, a heavy heart, and too many thoughts to count.
Her apartment was quiet-eerily so-and yet her mind was a storm. She sat hunched in her chair, her fingers moving mechanically over the keyboard, eyes fixed on the screen, unable to look away. The silence was suffocating. Emails were sent into the void, unanswered. The clock ticked in the background, a constant reminder of time slipping away.
Her coffee sat beside her, now bitter, untouched. The pressure in her chest was relentless. The deadline loomed over her-three days. Just three days to pull together two hundred sponsors, and she had barely gotten three. Three.
Her head throbbed from staring at the screen, and her body ached for sleep. But sleep wasn't an option, not when her world could crumble in a matter of hours. She felt dizzy-too tired to function, but too wired to stop.
The sinking feeling grew heavier. Her fingers hovered over her phone. The screen stared back at her like it held the answers, the lifeline she so desperately needed.
Her thumb hovered over the screen. Olivia: Are you awake?
A beat passed before Logan's reply flashed back.
Logan: Yeah. Want to meet somewhere?
Olivia paused, tapping her fingers nervously against the phone case. She didn't want to drag Logan into her mess, but she needed air, needed a break, something to pull her out of the spiraling thoughts.
Olivia: Café on 8th. I just need to breathe.
Logan: Okay. See you soon.
She felt a brief flicker of relief at his words, as if, for a moment, it was going to be okay. But the weight of the deadline was never far behind her.
She arrived first, arriving at the café on 8th street, the sound of bustling conversations and clinking mugs barely registering in her mind. She needed a distraction, anything to stop her brain from screaming at her.
A few minutes later, Logan arrived. His presence was a quiet contrast to her chaotic energy. Calm, collected, his hands in his pockets as if nothing in the world was ever rushing him.
He slid into the booth across from her, his gaze gentle and unwavering.
"So..." he began.
"Just a sec," she muttered, her fingers flying over the screen again, chasing one more email, one more response.
Logan leaned back in his seat, watching her with an unspoken understanding. "You texted me," he remarked softly. "Said you needed a distraction."
"I do," she said without looking up. "But I also need to not crash and burn."
He tilted his head, his voice calm but with a hint of concern. "Doesn't seem like this is helping."
She looked at him, exasperated. "It's all I can do right now," she replied, her voice tinged with desperation. "If I don't get this done... everything's over."
Logan studied her for a moment, a subtle calm in his eyes. Then, before she could protest, he reached forward and took her phone from her hands. She stiffened immediately, a gasp escaping her lips.
"Logan, what the hell?" she said, panic rising. "I need that!"
"You need air," he said quietly, locking her phone with ease.
"No, I need sponsors, Logan! Two hundred confirmations by Friday or it's all over," she shot back, voice rising in frustration.
"You need to breathe," he repeated, his tone unwavering.
She wasn't having it. "Logan, please-don't mess with me right now. Don't do anything stupid."
He ignored her protest, fingers tapping calmly on the screen, not saying a word. She leaned in, heart racing, watching as he typed, feeling helpless and exposed, as if her very existence depended on this one screen.
"Logan, what are you doing?" she nearly whispered, panic creeping into her voice. "Please don't-"
Still nothing. Just a few more taps before he set the phone down gently on the table between them. He leaned back, looking at her with those unreadable eyes.
She snatched the phone up instantly, ready to scold him. But her breath caught in her throat.
Her inbox was flooded.
Sponsorship confirmed.
Another.
And another.
Her heart skipped a beat, then started to race wildly.
Sixty-two. Ninety-four. One hundred and twelve.
Her hands shook as she scrolled, disbelief washing over her.
One hundred and forty-five. One eighty-six.
Her throat tightened. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. She stood up halfway, the phone still held tightly in her hands. "Logan-what the hell did you do?!"
He simply blinked. "Just a little help."
She laughed, sharp, breathless, overwhelmed. "This isn't a little! This is-" She stopped mid-sentence, blinking rapidly as the numbers climbed. "Oh my God. Are these real? Is this real?"
"Pretty sure it is," Logan said, his voice steady, like this was nothing.
Olivia's chest tightened. She felt something swell in her throat, a mixture of disbelief and pure relief. The tight coil in her stomach began to loosen. Then, without thinking, without warning, she crossed the table and flung her arms around him, hugging him tightly.
She buried her face in his chest, her breath shaky.
Logan was still for a moment. But then, without pulling away, he wrapped his arms around her. Steady. Calm. His presence a quiet anchor in the storm.
When she pulled back, her face was flushed, eyes wide, her chest rising and falling rapidly with her breath. Her hands hovered awkwardly, unsure where to place them.
"I'm sorry-I didn't mean to just-hug you like that," she said softly, her voice still trembling. "I'm just... I didn't know how to react. You-you just..." She laughed lightly, still in shock, brushing her hair from her face.
"Don't apologize," Logan said, his voice quiet but sincere. "I liked it."
She blinked, frozen for a second.
"I've been working all day," she whispered. "I was killing myself for just three sponsors. You just... How did you know? How did you do this?"
"I dunno," he said simply, his gaze unwavering, unbothered by the flurry of emotion.
She stared at him, and for a moment, the world felt like it had slowed. He wasn't smiling. He wasn't acting proud. He was just there steadily, quietly, like he had always been.
And somehow, that steadiness was everything.
"Thank you," she whispered, softer now, as if the weight of her gratitude had caught up to her. "Thank you for showing up. For not letting me drown."
Logan leaned back in his seat, his eyes still on her. "Anytime, Olivia."
She looked back down at her phone, still buzzing with confirmations. It was almost too much to process, too much to hold.
But as she looked at Logan, something shifted in her chest. "Logan," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You kind of just saved my life."
He tapped his glass of water, a small, barely perceptible smirk tugging at his lips. "That's dramatic."
She laughed,really laughed, the kind of laugh that felt like it had been buried deep inside her for days. "You're impossible."
But even as she said it, she realized just how much she had needed him. How much she had needed this.
"Yeah," he said with a faint smile, "takes one to know one."
And for the first time in days, Olivia Reed finally remembered what it felt like to breatheand have someone there to help her.