Part 5: Dinner Invitation

I went back to my apartment that night, heart still thudding from the kiss.

Blake’s lips. The way he’d said “fuck it” and just—gone for it. Bold, sudden, like he couldn’t stop himself anymore. But even as I lay in bed, replaying every second of it, I could still feel the hesitation underneath. That quiet restraint he hadn’t quite shaken. Like he wanted it, wanted me, but something in him was still holding back.

Even the next morning, at my best friend’s gender reveal party—surrounded by cupcakes, shouting uncles, and way too many shades of pink and blue—I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Not the balloons. Not the smoke cannons. Just Blake.

That kiss. That hand on my cheek. That low, breathless “I should go.”

And now here I was, showing up late to the office on a Saturday, carrying the weight of that moment like it was still stuck to my skin.

Technically, I wasn’t expected to come in today. But the deck Blake had assigned still needed polish, and I figured this was the perfect time to get it done—quiet, empty, no distractions. Just me, my laptop, and a comically oversized iced coffee from the place down the block.

The floor was mostly deserted. A few suits I didn’t recognize lingered near the corner offices, but otherwise, it felt like a ghost town.

Except for one closed door at the end of the hall.

Blake’s.

I tried not to think too hard about it as I took my seat, booted up my laptop, and opened the deck. But then—soft footsteps. The sound of a door opening.

I turned instinctively.

And there he was.

Blake Maddox, in a black crewneck with the sleeves pushed to his elbows, dark jeans that fit a little too well, and hair that looked like he’d run his fingers through it instead of a comb. Casual. Effortless. Unfair.

He stepped out of his office. Stopped. His eyes locked on mine.

There was a beat—long enough to feel.

No smile. No nod.

Just a quiet stare before he turned and went back into his office, door clicking shut behind him.

Cool. Definitely no lingering tension there.

I exhaled and stared at the blinking cursor on my screen. Then, without really planning to, I stood up, grabbed the printed deck pages, and walked.

My feet took me there before my brain could talk me out of it.

I knocked once and pushed the door open.

He looked up from his desk as I stepped in, his eyes flicking up to meet mine.

“Mr. Maddox,” I said—formal, safe. “I brought the updated deck for tomorrow. Sorry it took a while. I ... needed to rework a few sections.”

He held out his hand. I crossed the room and passed the pages to him.

His fingers brushed mine—just slightly—but the contact was enough to jolt me. That heat again. That pulse under my skin that had only gotten stronger since last night.

“Thanks,” he said softly, eyes on the pages. Then, quieter, “You didn’t have to come in today.”