My Sister Owed Him Two Hundred Thousand

After careful thought, Leighton finally signed the dating agreement. It wasn’t that she trusted Logan—it was that the contract was airtight. No vague terms. No forced commitments. Clear boundaries. The “no touching without permission” clause was even bolded at the top. He’d given her exactly the respect she needed.

Curious, Leighton asked, “Did you have a lawyer draw this up?”

Logan, leaning against the window like he had all the time in the world, said, “Yes.”

She pressed, “Didn’t they think it was weird?”

Elliott, nearby, couldn’t help but cut in. “Oh, they absolutely did. The legal team got the request at three a.m. and thought we were starting a dating service.”

Logan shot Elliott a look, and Elliott immediately started packing his bag.

“I’ll go get some fruit for Jazlyn—Miss Turner, I mean.” He was out the door before anyone could respond.

Not long after, Jazlyn woke up, looking much calmer. When she heard Leighton had signed the agreement, her eyes went red and stayed that way for most of the morning. Leighton didn’t scold her. She just handed her some oatmeal and coaxed her to eat.

“Did I become a burden again, sis?” Jazlyn asked quietly.

Leighton sat by the bed and adjusted the spoon for her. “No.”

“If I hadn’t fallen for Jeremy, you wouldn’t have had to confess. If I hadn’t been so careless, I wouldn’t have broken the drone, and you wouldn’t owe Logan anything…”

Leighton stared at her sister’s pale face. Exhaustion crashed over her, so heavy she could barely comfort anyone. But Jazlyn was her sister—the one she’d always protected. She couldn’t let her frustration show.

“Jazlyn,” she said softly, “having feelings for someone isn’t a crime.”

“The fault lies with people who treat your feelings like they don’t matter.”

Jazlyn’s eyes welled up. Outside the room, Logan stopped at the sound of those words. He didn’t go in. He just watched as Leighton handed her sister tissues. Even on the verge of falling apart, she still put everyone else first.

That was Leighton Turner.

She had a way of making him ache—and driving him out of his mind.

That afternoon, after Jazlyn fell asleep, Leighton slipped out of the hospital room. Logan was still there. She hadn’t expected him to stay this long. For someone like him, an entire day in a hospital hallway seemed… off.

Logan met her eyes. “Done talking?”

Leighton nodded. “Yeah.”

“Then let’s go.”

“Go where?”

Logan picked up his coat. “On a date.”

She blinked. She’d assumed the three-month agreement was mostly a formality. She hadn’t expected him to actually want dates.

“Now?”

“Point three on the agreement: at least one normal date every week.” Logan said it like it was obvious.

For the first time, Leighton regretted signing.

She glanced at her phone. “I have to work at the convenience store tonight.”

“Already handled,” Logan said.

Her frown was immediate.

Elliott chimed in, “I told them your sister was in the hospital and you needed to be with her. Your manager agreed. And I made sure your wages weren’t docked.”

That last part killed her protest before it could start. He was learning to tiptoe around her sore spots—not trying to control her life, just give her a little breathing room.

She shot him a quick look. “How did you know I’d care about my wages?”

“Because you care about everything,” Logan replied, “except me.”

It didn’t land smoothly, but it was painfully accurate.

Just as they were about to leave, Elliott volunteered to stay with Jazlyn.

Jazlyn looked nervous, but Elliott set the fruit basket on the table with a reassuring grin. “Don’t worry, Miss Turner. My main job is assisting, but I’m also an expert at peeling apples in one continuous strip.”

Jazlyn let out a soft laugh, her eyes curving into a shy smile. Seeing her sister smile again, Leighton felt a tiny weight lift.

Logan noticed too.

As they walked, he effortlessly shielded Leighton from the crowd at the hospital entrance. This time, she didn’t pull away right away. She just kept a little distance.

Logan noticed—but he didn’t close the gap.

The car didn’t head to some fancy restaurant. Instead, Logan drove to the area behind Cambridge University. Leighton froze the second she stepped out.

This was the place she knew best—the print shop, the fruit stand, the $2 pasta place, and a dessert shop that had been there for years. She couldn’t figure out why Logan would pick this place.

Logan tossed his keys to the driver and came to stand beside her. “Your call.”

She looked up at him. “Call for what?”

“What to eat. Where to go. How long to stay.” He paused. “It’s your decision for our first date.”

Her heart gave a soft, unexpected nudge.

She’d expected Logan to whisk her off to some extravagant restaurant, to dazzle her with money. But he didn’t. He brought her somewhere familiar and let her choose.

In the end, she chose the pasta—$2 a bowl.

When Logan sat down on one of the plastic chairs, the tiny shop went silent. The owner nearly dropped her ladle into the soup pot. Leighton found the whole thing surreal. Logan just sat there, calm as ever.

His black coat was draped over the chair, sleeves rolled up just enough to show pale, slender wrists. In that ordinary little shop, at a water-stained table, he still carried himself like he belonged in a VIP section—without even trying.

That was just his inherent elegance.

When the pasta arrived, Leighton instinctively pushed the parsley to one side.

Logan noticed.

He slid his bowl toward her and swapped it for hers.

She stared. “What are you doing?”

“Mine doesn’t have parsley.”

“How did you know?”

“I asked for it that way when we ordered.”

She suddenly remembered him telling the owner “no parsley.” She’d assumed it was for himself. Apparently, it was for her.

Staring at the parsley-free bowl, she didn’t know what to say.

Logan went back to eating, as if he’d just done something completely ordinary.

Leighton slowly picked up her fork. The warm sauce slid down her throat, filling the hollow ache in her stomach.

Halfway through, familiar voices drifted over. Jeremy and a few friends were coming out of the smoothie shop next door. They clearly hadn’t expected to find Logan and Leighton here. Jeremy stopped mid-step. Leighton’s grip on her fork went still.

Logan didn’t look up. He just pushed a napkin toward her. “Wipe your mouth.”

Her ears burned, and she obeyed.

Jeremy’s friends started whispering.

“Logan on a date eating $2 pasta?”

“That’s… down-to-earth.”

“Maybe Leighton’s paying?”

Just as she was about to speak, Logan set down his fork and called to the owner. “I’ll cover everyone’s bill today.”

The owner froze. So did the students—until applause broke the silence.

Logan wiped his hands, unhurried. “Except the ones at the door.”

Jeremy’s friends turned green. Laughter erupted all over again inside the shop.

Leighton couldn’t help it—a laugh bubbled up. She ducked her head, trying to swallow it with another bite.

Logan tilted his head slightly. “If you want to laugh, just laugh.”

She shook her head. “No.”

But two seconds later, she couldn’t hold it in. It was a small laugh—like a crack forming on the surface of ice.

Watching her, the coldness in his eyes slowly melted away.

When they finished, Leighton insisted on paying for her own meal. Logan didn’t argue. He let her, while the owner billed the rest to him.

As they left the pasta shop, the rain had stopped. The wet streets reflected the glow of store signs. Walking a little ahead, she spotted the dessert shop and slowed.

Logan noticed. “Want something?”

“No.”

“Stubborn.”

He walked over and bought a warm spiced honey cake. When he held it out, she didn’t take it right away.

“Is this a loan too?” She eyed the dessert.

He smiled, a playful curve at the corner of his mouth. “You can treat me.”

She thought about it, then took it. “I’ll treat you.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “With my money?”

“With my own.” Leighton showed him the payment screen on her phone. Sixteen dollars. She paid like she meant it.

Looking at the $16 payment record, Logan suddenly laughed. “All right.”

“First date, and you treated me to something sweet.”

Her ears went red. She lowered her head and focused on the dessert, warmth spreading from her palms all the way to her chest.

Not far away, Nataly sat in a car, watching. Her expression darkened with every second.

At first, she’d thought Logan was just fascinated by something new. But he was willing to eat $2 pasta with Leighton, remembered she hated parsley, and stood on the street while she treated him to a $16 dessert.

Nataly’s grip tightened on her phone. A new message lit up the screen.

[If you want Leighton out of Logan’s life, start with her gambling father.]