He wasn’t going to let me bury this.
I gripped the Ipad tighter, trying to remember how to breathe, let alone how to form words. “I'm not.”
“Good,” he murmured, leaning forward now, elbows braced on the table. His voice dropped in a way that made my knees wobble.
My throat worked around words I wasn’t sure I wanted to say, but I forced them out anyway. “About last night.” Nathan’s brows lifted slightly, though his gaze never wavered. “It was beyond inappropriate,” I continued, each syllable tasting like glass. “And it can’t happen again. We should forget it happened and move on.”
Nathan didn’t say anything at first. He just studied me, eyes unreadable, expression still and composed in a way that made it hard to breathe. The quiet stretched long enough that I started to fidget with the edge of my sleeve.
“No.”
My head snapped up at the lone word. “No?”
He didn’t look away. “No. I want you, Elise. And all last night did was prove that you want me too.”
My stomach flipped. “That’s not—”
He shook his head once. “Don’t tell me it’s one-sided.”
Heat rushed through me, part anger, part something else I didn’t want to name. “You’re reading into it,” I managed. “It was the heat of the moment. It won’t happen again.”
Nathan leaned forward, forearms braced on the table. “You can call it whatever you want. Pretend it was the music or a lapse in judgment. But I know what I felt, and I know you felt it too.” His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it that made my heart stutter
I swallowed hard, forcing my gaze down to my tablet. “It can’t happen again. You’re my boss.”
He exhaled, slow and deliberate. “I’m very aware of who I am to you. But that doesn’t change what’s between us.”
I pressed my lips together, trying to steady my breathing. “You’re making this complicated.”
Nathan’s mouth curved, though it wasn’t quite a smile. “No, Elise. You are. I’m not confused about what I want.”
My pulse jumped. “Nathan…”
He leaned closer, his voice quiet enough that only I could hear. “You can try to hide behind professionalism, but I’m not going to pretend that kiss didn’t happen. I’m not going to act like you’re not the only thing I think about lately.” The words landed heavy, sharp and honest “Tell me you don’t want me,” he said quietly. “Look me in the eye and say it.”
I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn’t come.
Nathan sat back, satisfied. “That’s what I thought.”
My throat felt dry. I hated how easily he could dismantle every wall I built. How a single look from him could leave me unraveling.
I forced a breath and pushed back my chair. “We should go,” I said, hoping my voice sounded steadier than I felt. “You’ll be late for your meeting with A&R.”
Nathan didn’t move to leave, but his gaze followed me as I gathered my things. “Running away isn’t going to change anything.”
“I’m not running,” I said quickly, slipping the tablet into my bag. “I’m doing my job.”
He finally stood, tall and deliberate, like he was giving me the illusion of space without ever really offering it. “If that’s what you need to tell yourself.”
I looked up, irritation flickering through the nerves twisting in my chest. “You’re unbelievable.”
He smiled, small and knowing. “So I’ve been told.”
I reached for my coffee, desperate for something to do with my hands, but when I turned toward the door, he stepped just close enough that I had to tilt my head to look at him.
“You can keep pretending,” he said quietly. “Pretend that it didn’t happen, pretend that you don’t want it to happen again. But we both know better.”
My pulse skipped. “You really don’t know when to stop, do you?”
