He doesn’t answer. Just looks at me with those dark eyes that have been driving me crazy for weeks.
“Say it,” I push, closing the space between us. “Admit you feel something.”
“It doesn’t matter what I feel.”
“It matters to me.”
“Why?” His voice cracks slightly. “Why does it matter?”
I fist the sides of my hair. “Because I can’t stop thinking about you, okay? Because every time I’m in a room with you, I can’t focus on anything else. Because seeing you with Alex made me want to punch him just for sitting across from you.”
“Danny—”
“And I know it’s fucked up. I know we can’t do this. But I need to know if I’m the only one feeling it.”
He doesn’t say anything and with every second that ticks past, my throat gets tighter and tighter. Then he says, in a voice so low I almost miss it, “You’re not.”
“Then why?—”
“Because I can’t.” He runs a hand through his hair, and for the first time since I met him, he looks completely undone. “I can’t risk everything I’ve worked for. I can’t put my father’s career in jeopardy. I can’t let my feelings for you be the reason people say I didn’t deserve this job.”
“So you’re just going to keep fighting this forever?”
“Yes.”
“That’s a damn lonely way to live.”
“It’s the only way I know how.”
I should walk out of this office right now and stop pushing him. But I can’t.
“You know what I think?” I say. “I think you’re terrified. Not of losing your job or your reputation. You’re terrified of actually letting someone in.”
“That’s not true.”
“Alex burned you. I get it. But I’m not Alex. I’m not going to betray you or use you or turn your trust into a headline.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yeah, I do. Because I’ve spent the last month trying to prove to you that I’m not some reckless asshole who can’t control himself. I’ve done everything you’ve asked. I’ve stayed out of trouble, showed restraint, played by your rules. And you still won’t let me in.”
“Because letting you in means risking everything.”
“Or it means having something real instead of hiding behind your walls.”
There are only inches between us now. We’re close enough that I can see the conflict in his eyes, the way jaw tightens like he’s physically holding himself back.
“Danny.” His voice is strained. “You need to leave.”
“Why?”
“Because if you don’t, I’m going to do something I’ll regret.”
“Like what?”
He doesn’t answer. Just stares at me, and I can see him fighting an internal battle. Then I see the exact moment his control starts to slip.
“Noah—”
