He smiles, and it’s softer this time.“You did great today, you know?”
I don’t say anything back.I just head out, hiding my flushed cheeks.But this time, the compliment settles differently.It’s not the polite acknowledgement he gave me weeks ago when I first started.It’s not the distant professionalism of our early days.This feels… personal.Like he sees me… Not just as a colleague, but as someone he’s genuinely proud of.And that makes me ache in a way I wasn’t prepared for.
When I return, he’s taken off his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves, and there’s something about him being a little undone that does something to me.But I shove that thought away and focus on the committee meeting and drinking my coffee.This time, I sit on the other side of the table.
He’s in the middle of loosening his tie, one side of his collar flipped up.I reach out and smooth it down, my fingers brushing against the stubble on his neck.His skin is warm.
I can’t help noticing the line of his throat, the movement of his Adam’s apple.
“Sorry,” I murmur, pulling my hand back.“I just… your collar was flipped.”
My hand hovers in front of him too long, the other still resting lightly on his shoulder.
“You always seem so straight,” I mumble, then instantly regret how that sounds.
He smirks.Like he can tell I’m flustered.And it makes butterflies swarm my stomach.
“It’s fine.Relax.”
His phone chimes.
“Dinner’s here.I’ll be one sec.”
“Okay, I’ll get started.”
I put our mugs away and then turn to the committee paperwork.It’s good that the moment is broken so I can regroup.I need to get my head back on the task and off him, but it doesn’t work.Figuring out where to begin takes way longer than it should, because my mind keeps drifting back to him, even as I start writing down some bullet points we can follow.
When he returns, carrying two steaming paper bags of Chinese, tie off, hair a bit messier, I swear he looks… different.Less formal, more approachable, and dangerously sexy.My stomach flips.
He sets the bags on the table.“Let it cool.It’s scorching.”
I show him the outline I made, and he nods, impressed.“Perfect.Let’s start with the first one.Shouldn’t take long with two smart people, right?”
His flirty wink sends a blip to my heartbeat.
We dive into the work, moving from subject to subject, checking off each item my father asked for.But I can’t stop sneaking peeks at him, and I remind myself I shouldn’t be enjoying our knees resting comfortably against each other’s.Once the first topic’s wrapped, we move on to the second.That one goes faster, and then we take a break to eat.
“Want to try some noodles?”He opens the container, and the smell hits me immediately—garlic, ginger, sesame oil.And it makes my mouth water.
“Sure,” I say.“You want to try mine?”
He nods, and we swap containers.Something about sharing food like this feels natural.Intimate even, like this is normal for us.
I pass him my Dim Sum, and he dives in.Taking a bite, he chews thoughtfully, and his eyes widen slightly.“This is really good.”
Watching him enjoy it makes my heart do crazy things in my chest.There’s something disarming about seeing him appreciate something simple.It makes him feel more real, less untouchable.
I take a bite of his noodles and hand it back, but he waves me off.
“Eat more.You don’t have to be shy.”
I laugh.“I’m not shy.”
“Good.Eat as much as you want.”
“So, was this your go-to during college?Late nights and studying?”
He grins.“Not really.I used to live off energy drinks.Real healthy stuff.”
