He doesn’t say anything, but I can feel it in the shift of his stance, the slight tilt of his head, the way he watches me like he’s putting something together.
I tighten my grip on my laptop, tilting the screen slightly as if I was deep in work—as if I wasn’t just reading a letter that’s completely fucked with my entire night.
“Busy?”he asks, voice low, amused.
I lift a brow, forcing a casual shrug.“I’malwaysbusy, Price.”
Joel huffs a laugh, stepping further into the office.“Yeah?What are you working on?”
My stomach twists.
He’s too close.
I cannot do this right now.
So I go with distraction and deflection, the only tools I have left.
I tap my keyboard like I’m totally focused.“Oh, you know.World domination.The usual.”
Joel hums, taking another step closer.
And then?—
He reaches out.
Before I can react, before I can shift away, his fingers brush just behind my ear, tucking a loose strand of hair back into place.
Every single muscle in my body locks up.
Heat flares under my skin, sharp and startling, as his fingertips graze the edge of my jaw for a fraction of a second too long.
It’s nothing.
A tiny movement.A brief touch.
But my pulse fucking jumps.
My breath catches in my throat.
I can’t move.
Can’t breathe.
Joel is standing too close, touching me too softly, looking at me too intently.
And why the hell does he smell so good after a performance?
His lips twitch, like he knows exactly what he just did.
Like he can hear the way my heartbeat just spiked.
I snap out of it.
I jerk back, reaching up and pointedly tucking my hair behind my own damn ear.
Joel’s smirk deepens, his gaze flicking to my hands before dragging back up to my face.
“Relax, Ace,” he murmurs.“Just a little hair out of place.”