No Two Are Alike

06 | hot chocolate gets heated

Logan didn't mind trading places with Jack.

There were a lot of perks that came with it. A nice flat in Chelsea, for example. Better WiFi. More respect from their mother. But the one thing that Logan wasn't enjoying was Jack's endless enthusiasm for Chloe Cartwright.

Bloody hell, the man was obsessed.

Photos of their trip to Amsterdam on the fridge, a birthday card from her on the mantel, some terrible mix tape that she had made for him — it was madness. Logan and Jack had switched wallets and phones now, which meant that Logan even had to deal with her 3 a.m. dog memes.

But he had to keep Jack happy.

For the article.

Which was why — when Chloe suggested going to Hyde Park's Winter Wonderland — Logan reluctantly agreed. After all, Jack had begged him.

"You have to go," Jack urged, over the phone. "She'll know something's up if you don't. We go every year."

"But it's so crowded."

"Well, tough luck," Jack said. "This was your idea, remember?"

And then he hung up. Actually hung up on him, the little shit.

Logan sighed. Well, it was too late, now; he was here. And Winter Wonderland was just as dreadful as he remembered: screaming children ran helter-skelter around the alpine shacks, waving sticks of sizzling Bratwurst. Christmas music blasted through tinny speakers, thrumming in time with the flashing carousel lights. Despite the chilly air, the whole outdoor market felt humid. Sweaty.

Logan looked longingly toward a shack selling mulled wine. God, what he'd give for a proper drink. But, no. Apparently Chloe and Jack always got hot chocolate. The idiots.

So here they were.

"Two hot chocolates, please," Chloe said. "Both medium." She had to stand on her tiptoes to see over the counter. "One with marshmallows, but no whipped cream."

"For you, sir?"

"I'll have a peppermint hot chocolate," Logan muttered.

With whisky. Lots of whisky.

The sales assistant retreated, looking about as thrilled to be here as Logan was. Chloe gave him an odd look.

"You hate mint hot chocolate," she said.

Ah, shit. Did he?

"I'm trying something new," Logan countered.

"But you hate new things."

"Well, I'm being spontaneous today."

Chloe blinked. "You know you've tried mint hot chocolate before, right? At that Christmas market in Edinburgh. You said it tasted like toothpaste."

Logan sighed. Damn this girl. She was relentless. Did she keep a bloody spreadsheet of all of the foods Jack enjoyed or something?

"Besides," Chloe continued, "you only drink orange hot chocolate."

Yup. There was definitely a spreadsheet.

"I told you, I'm branching out."

Chloe opened her mouth — clearly gearing up for an attack — and Logan almost cried with relief when he saw that their drinks were ready. He lunged for the cups, practically shoving Chloe's hot chocolate into her gloved hands.

"Let's walk," he said.

They carved a path through shacks selling butterscotch fudge and handblown glass ornaments. Chloe wanted to stop at each one, admiring the displays in a way that Logan probably would have found sweet if he wasn't so bloody claustrophobic.