The space between us crackled, thick and undeniable.
It would’ve been so easy to lean in. To let the line completely blur. To tell myself we’d already crossed it once, so what was once more?
But I didn’t.
I stepped back instead, heart racing, and forced a breath into my lungs. “We should… keep this professional.”
He dropped his hands immediately, like the words were a command he couldn’t ignore, his expression going blank in a way that felt practiced. “I agree.”
That was the worst part.
The fact that he didn’t argue. That he didn’t look disappointed or irritated. Just calm. Controlled. Like this was the right call, and he’d already accepted it.
I nodded, turning back to my work with shaking hands, pretending my pulse wasn’t still crashing through me.
I heard his footsteps.
One. Two.
Then they stopped.
The air shifted before he even spoke, and I felt it. That instinctive awareness, the kind that had nothing to do with professionalism and everything to do with him.
“Juliet,” he said quietly.
I turned before I could stop myself.
He was already moving. No hesitation this time. No careful distance. His jaw was tight, eyes dark, like something inside him had finally snapped. “Fuck being professional,” he muttered.
Then he was in front of me, one hand coming up to my waist like he’d done it a thousand times before, like it belonged there. His other hand framed my face, thumb brushing my cheek with a tenderness that didn’t match the fire in his eyes.
He didn’t ask.
He kissed me.
His mouth covered mine with purpose, heat flooding through me as he pulled me closer, like he was done pretending this didn’t matter. I made a soft sound I didn’t recognize, fingers curling into his shirt as the kiss deepened, slower but stronger, like he was pouring everything he hadn’t said into it.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against mine, both of us breathing hard.
“That was…” I trailed off, breathless, my thoughts scattering just as badly as my pulse.
A slow, crooked smile spread across his lips. “Fucking good?” he chuckled.
Heat rushed to my cheeks so fast it was impossible to hide. I nodded. “Yes.”
He stepped back slowly, deliberately, like he was forcing himself to create space even though every part of him wanted the opposite. His hands dropped to his sides, and the loss of his closeness hit me harder than I expected.
I cleared my throat and smoothed my hands down the front of my shirt. I needed something familiar. Something normal. “I should… I need to get back to work.”
“Yeah,” he said easily, even though his eyes never left my face. “You should.”
I turned back toward the counter, focusing on putting distance between us. My movements felt careful, overly controlled, like I was holding myself together with sheer will. I reached for a stack of papers and straightened them even though they were already neat. Anything to keep my hands busy.
I could feel him still there.
Watching.
I tucked my hair behind my ear, my fingers betraying me with the slightest tremble. I forced a steady breath into my lungs before lifting my chin, pretending the room wasn’t still charged with everything we’d just done.