Any minute now, I’ll get the message. Or Jess will. And I’ll lose her before she’s even had the chance to really be part of my life.
Brilliant, just fucking brilliant.
I rub a hand over my face, exhaling through my nose.
This is exactly what I told myselfnotto do. Exactly why I should’ve hired someone boring, someone clinical, someone I didn’t want to see bent over my kitchen counter.
I press the palm of my hand to my forehead.
Keep your distance.
No matter what she’s wearing. No matter how she smells. No matter how badly you want her.
Keep your fucking distance.
I’m still sitting there, staring at my screen without taking in a single word, when the doorbell rings.
Not once. Twice.
I frown. I’m not expecting anyone.
A minute later, footsteps echo down the hall — Stella’s, light and quick, followed by a second pair. Heavier. Confident.
The office door creaks open. She walks in with a mug in one hand and Jasper at her heels, grinning like he’s just pulled off a heist.
She crosses to the desk and sets the cup down in front of me, the soft clink on the coaster somehow louder than it should be.
“Your coffee,” she says, voice low but steady.
Then she looks at me — properly this time — and everything shifts. It’s there again. That thing from the kitchen. Her gaze drops to my mouth, then snaps back to my eyes. Her cheeks flush, and I feel the heat of it right down my spine. But there’s no anger in it. No disgust. Just awareness. And something deeper I can’t quite name. Something I’m not sure I’m allowed to want.
She’s the one who breaks the moment, turning to Jasper with a polite smile.
“Would you like a coffee, Mr Corbin?”
“Jasper… please,” he says, still watching me like he knows exactly what just passed between us. “And I’d love a cup of tea. If it’s no trouble.”
“Not at all,” she replies, already heading for the door.
As soon as she’s out of earshot, Jasper drags a chair from the corner, turns it around, and straddles it like he’s settling in for the main event.
“What the hell did I just walk into?”
I stare at the coffee in front of me like it might answer for my sins.
“Nothing.”
“Mate.” He raises an eyebrow. “You are talking to me. I know you. Something is going on here.”
I get up without a word, walk to the door, and shut it. Firmly.
Jasper’s watches me, but he doesn’t say anything.
I drop back into my chair, lean forward, elbows on the desk, hands steepled in front of my mouth.
“This is her first day.”
“Right,” he says, like he’s agreeing to something obvious.
