I was finishing up my handover session with Samantha when I caught movement out of the corner of my eye.

  Ethan.

  He had just returned to his desk, his posture easy, his focus on his screen like this was just another normal day.

  I forced my attention back to my laptop, typing without really seeing the words.

  “We’re still good for our session in five minutes?”

  His voice was smooth, even. Unreadable.

  I didn’t look up. “Yeah. I’ll see you at the meeting room.”

  He nodded, then walked off without another word.

  As soon as he was gone, I exhaled.

  Beside me, Samantha nudged my arm lightly. “You okay?”

  I forced a small smile, keeping my eyes on the screen. “Yeah. Don’t worry. I think it’ll be easier once I’ve moved teams.”

  Samantha didn’t look convinced.

  “Mm-hmm.”

  Then, before I could say anything else, she pulled me into a quick, firm hug.

  “You still have to have lunch with me,” she murmured.

  I let myself sink into it for a second. “Of course.”

  Samantha squeezed a little tighter. “And you better not randomly quit.”

  That startled a laugh out of me. “I won’t. I promise.”

  She pulled back, giving me one last squeeze before letting go. “Good.”

  Then, just like that, she turned back to her own work.

  I sat there for a moment, staring at my screen, feeling the warmth of the moment settle over me.

  Then, I pushed back from my chair.

  It was time for my final handover with Ethan.

  Tuesday, 3:00 PM – The Handover

  I stepped into the meeting room, laptop in hand, willing myself to focus.

  Ethan was already there.

  There were two coffee cups on the table and a packet of salt and vinegar chips sitting next to them.

  I hesitated just slightly before sitting down.

  Ethan didn’t say anything. He just reached for the bag, flicking it across the table toward me with his fingers.

  The packet slid smoothly across the surface before stopping near my hands.

  “You haven’t eaten,” he said simply.

  I frowned. “I’m not hungry.”

  My stomach chose that exact moment to growl.

  Ethan laughed. The sound, low, unguarded, amused, cut through the quiet, breaking the tension just enough that I felt warmth crawl up my neck.

  I snatched the bag of chips, tearing it open. “Shut up.”

  Ethan smirked but said nothing.

  Then, as easily as if nothing had changed between us, he picked up his coffee. “Alright. Let’s get started. You only set an hour.”

  I nodded, willing myself to focus on the work.

  Not on the way my pulse was still racing.

  Not on the fact that I was too aware of the space between us.

  Tuesday, 3:15 PM – Easy Conversations

  The meeting had settled into a rhythm.

  I explained. Ethan listened.

  It should have felt like every other time we worked together—straightforward, efficient.

  But it didn’t.

  I scrolled through the documentation, pointing out key dependencies, trying to ignore how aware I was of him. The steady weight of his attention. The way he sat just close enough that I could catch the faint scent of his cologne—something clean, sharp, with just a trace of coffee.

  I told myself it was nothing.

  But then I realized—he hadn’t asked about the transfer.

  Not once.

  Leo would have pushed. Would have smirked, would have baited me into saying something.

  Ethan just sat there, waiting. Like he didn’t need to ask.

  It was sensible. It was mature.

  It was kind of annoying.

  So when the next pause stretched too long, I broke it.

  “Aren’t you going to ask me about the transfer?”

  Ethan didn’t react right away. He just leaned on the table, propping his chin against his hand.

  “Do you want me to ask?”

  I hesitated. “I don’t know. Maybe?”

  His eyes flicked over my face. He didn’t look surprised, just curious.

  Then, he shifted a little closer.

  And I felt it immediately.

  The way the air changed between us. The way his presence pressed against my senses, something steady, something I was too aware of.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  I didn’t move back.

  “So, why are you leaving, Ada?”

  His voice was quiet, even.

  I swallowed. “It’s too hard.”

  His fingers curled slightly against the table. “What is?”

  I wet my lips. “Working between you two.”

  The space between us suddenly felt smaller.

  I glanced up, and his gaze was already on mine.

  But it was different now. Darker.

  There was something in his expression—something heavier, sharper, like he had stopped holding back.

  He didn’t move or rush.

  Then, calmly, “Do you want me to stop?”

  The words landed like something final.

  I didn’t answer right away.

  I looked down, pressing my palms against the table edge, grounding myself.

  “What happens after though?”

  Ethan tilted his head slightly. “What do you mean?”

  “After,” I said quietly. “After I choose—” I hesitated, my heart beating too fast. “Because I don’t know. What if it doesn’t work out? What if I’m not—” the words failed me.

  Ethan didn’t say anything at first.

  He just looked at me, considering something.

  I exhaled, a little frustrated, my voice barely above a whisper. “You seem so sure, but how can you be so sure?”

  Ethan blinked and his brow furrowed slightly.

  Like he understood something now that he hadn’t before.

  He exhaled, slow and measured. “Nothing.”

  I frowned. “Nothing?”

  He leaned in some more.

  I still didn’t move.

  “We walk,” he murmured. “We move along. If it works, we’re in the same direction. If it doesn’t, then we aren’t.”

  I could feel his breath now, warm against my skin.

  I could see the way his fingers curled slightly against the table, the way his gaze dipped, just for a second.

  His eyes—dark, intense, focused entirely on me.

  He was so close.

  “And for a time,” he said softly, his voice lower now, “you’ll be mine.”

  The words settled deep.

  Ethan didn’t move.

  He never pushed.

  As always, infuriatingly, he waited.

  Then, his voice dropped lower. “Tell me to stop.”

  I leaned in, and then—

  The door opened.

  Tuesday, 3:16 PM – The Interruption

  The door swung open, and just like that, the moment was gone.

  “You guys are looking cozy.”

  Leo.

  He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, smirking like he had been waiting for this.

  I jerked back in my chair, barely processing what had just happened, barely breathing.

  Ethan, on the other hand, didn’t move right away.

  He exhaled, slow and steady, before sitting back deliberately, resetting his posture.

  Leo’s gaze flicked between us, his smirk deepening. “Not gonna say hi, Park?”

  Ethan reached for his coffee, completely unfazed. “What do you want?”

  Leo pushed off the doorframe and strolled inside, taking his time.

  “I have a question for Spoon Girl about the handover,” he said easily.

  “You can ask her later,” Ethan replied, tone flat.

  Leo tsked. “It’s urgent.”

  His grin was sharp now, but there was something else in his eyes.

  Something closer to frustration than amusement.

  He walked over, sat down on the chair next to mine, and leaned back—too at ease, too casual.

  “Y’know,” Leo said, tone light, “if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were pissed about something.”

  Ethan didn’t even blink. “You don’t know better.”

  Leo chuckled, tapping his fingers against the desk. “So, is this about the report, or…?”

  Ethan exhaled. “You want me to say it?”

  Leo tilted his head, like he was weighing his next move. “Say what?”

  Ethan met his gaze, steady. “That you can’t stand the idea that I was alone with her.”

  My breath caught.

  Leo’s smirk faltered—just for a second.

  “You think that bothers me?”

  Ethan didn’t hesitate. “I know it does.”

  Leo’s jaw tightened.

  My stomach sank. I was watching two grown men challenge each other over absolutely nothing.

  Again.

  Leo leaned against the conference table, arms crossed, smirking. “You seem so tense today, Park.”

  Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose. “You always talk this much?”

  Leo grinned. “Only when you’re around.”

  I groaned, rubbing my temples. “Oh my god, can you two just—”

  Leo cut me off, not done poking. “It’s cute that you think ignoring me makes you more interesting.”

  Ethan exhaled slowly, and then like he was talking to a small child, he replied, “I don’t need to be interesting to you.”

  Leo tilted his head, smirk widening. “No?”

  Ethan’s jaw stiffened. “No.”

  Leo clicked his tongue, enjoying himself too much. “See, that’s your problem, Park. You act like you’re above all this, like you don’t care —”

  He stopped. Something shifted in his expression.

  Ethan leaned back in his chair, and it was as if Leo finally took in how Ethan was just too relaxed, too unaffected—

  Leo scoffed. “Christ, you think she’d actually pick you, don’t you?”

  Ethan’s voice was quiet. “What did you just say?”

  “Just funny, is all,” Leo said, voice too casual. “That you think she hasn’t already made up her mind.”

  Ethan’s brow lifted slightly. “Has she?”

  Leo let out a slow breath, shaking his head. “Man, you really don’t know anything, do you?”

  The way he said it made me tense up. I looked at him, slowly trying to figure out what he was saying.

  Ethan’s posture stiffened. “Then explain it to me.”

  Leo huffed a laugh, but it was forced now.

  “You don’t know because you weren’t there.”

  Ethan’s expression didn’t change.

  But I felt the weight of those words land.

  Oh my god. He was going to say it. What happened, at the hotel —when Leo was drunk.

  So I cut in before this went any further.

  “Leo,” I snapped.

  He looked at me, but it was too late.

  Ethan was already putting something together.

  “‘You weren’t there’,” Ethan repeated.

  Leo rolled his shoulders. “Drop it, Park.”

  Ethan’s eyes flicked to me.

  I didn’t say anything, couldn’t breathe. It would have been easier to just explain, but the words felt empty in my head, and the sentences failed to come out of my mouth.

  And Ethan, who always noticed everything, who always put the pieces together faster than anyone else finally asked, “What happened?”

  Leo clenched his jaw. “Nothing.”

  Ethan’s voice dropped lower. “Try again.”

  Leo didn’t respond immediately.

  He didn’t want to say it, I could tell.

  But Ethan was pushing too hard and Leo was too stubborn to let himself lose.

  So, like an idiot, he said it anyway.

  “You weren’t the one in her hotel room, Park.”

  The silence that followed was immediate.

  Heavy.

  Suffocating.

  My stomach sank.

  Ethan’s entire body stilled.

  Leo, for the first time in his life, looked like he wanted to take something back.

  But it was too late.

  Because Ethan had just lost every ounce of control.

  Ethan’s perspective:

  Ethan’s hands curled into fists at his sides.

  Leo wasn’t just messing with him anymore.

  This wasn’t posturing.

  It wasn’t a game.

  “It wasn’t you in her hotel room, Park.”

  Ethan caught the flicker of regret the second the words left Leo’s mouth.

  The way Leo’s throat bobbed, the way his fingers curled against his palms, like maybe he wanted to take it back.

  Too late.

  Something in Ethan twisted, sharp and brutal.

  This wasn’t a misunderstanding.

  This wasn’t Leo trying to rattle him.

  This was real.

  Ada had let him in and suddenly, everything Ethan had been so sure of unraveled.

  Because he had been waiting.

  Because he had been careful.

  Because he had told himself it would be worth it.

  And maybe, it never had been.

  Had she been falling toward Leo this entire time?

  Had every glance, every hesitation, every almost meant nothing?

  His pulse thundered in his ears.

  He looked at her and for the first time, he wasn’t sure what he would see.

  “Is it true?”

  A shake of her head. A single word. Anything.

  But she just stood there, lips parted, like she was still searching for something to say.

  And Ethan, who had spent months waiting for her, suddenly wasn’t sure if he had ever had a chance at all.

  His voice came rougher this time. “Is it true? Have you already chosen?”

  Ada’s breath came out unsteady. “No, it’s not like that. Leo was drunk. Nothing happened—”

  Nothing happened.

  He saw it in her eyes.

  The way she met his gaze, unwavering. The certainty in her voice. The truth.

  He glanced at Leo who was staring at her too, hands clenched, realization sinking in.

  It was just another careless move, another jab that had gone too far.

  Nothing happened.

  But it could have.

  Ethan had two choices.

  Walk away.

  Or take what he wanted.

  Because if Ada had almost given Leo a chance, then Ethan was done waiting for his.

  He moved.

  One second, he was standing exactly where he was.

  The next, he was in front of her.

  His fingers found her wrist, steady, grounding himself.

  And before she could react—before he could second guess himself—

  He kissed her, hard.

  It was every sharp-edged feeling, every frustration, every second of restraint coming undone all at once.

  Her breath stuttered against his mouth and her fingers curled, just slightly, against his chest. She didn’t push him away.

  He tilted his head, deepened it just enough, tightening his grip on her wrist.

  His other hand found her waist, fingers pressing in, holding her there.

  Making sure she felt every unspoken word.

  And then he pulled back just enough to see exactly what this was.

  That it wasn’t a mistake.

  Ada stared at him, chest rising unevenly, lips parted like she wanted to say something but had lost the words.

  Like she wasn’t sure if she should step away or pull him back in.

  Ethan wasn’t sure which one would make him lose his mind more.

  Then reality slammed back into him.

  Leo was still there.