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I stride out of the server room and down the deserted hallway toward her office. All the staff have gone home for the evening.

Perfect.

Mary is too absorbed in her work to even notice me. I pause in the doorway, drinking in the sight of her.

Her slender fingers dance across the keyboard, her brows furrowed in concentration. The graceful curve of her neck, the flutter of her pulse. She’s always been beautiful, but something about the way she’s focused on her work now makes her even more captivating.

“You wanted to see me?” I lean against the doorframe.

She startles at the sound of my voice, quickly closing her laptop. “Connor.”

“Were you watching naughty videos on that thing? Don’t let me interrupt your ‘me time’.”

Mary shuffles some papers. “No, I was just… finishing up some work.”

“Mmhmm.” I saunter into the office, taking a seat at the corner of her desk. “So what’s up? You don’t usually call me to your office this late. Or ever even want to talk to me.”

She shifts in her chair, worrying her bottom lip. “I, uh, I wanted to apologize. For how I reacted the other night. I was... I was out of line. I’m really sorry, Connor. I know I’ve been so hot and cold with you, and it’s not fair. I just... I have a hard time trusting people, you know? Especially after what happened—It doesn’t matter what happened because that’s no excuse for how I’ve been treating you. So, if you don’t want to talk to me anymore, I’d underst—”

“It’s okay. You don’t need to apologize.”

Mary blinks in surprise. “I don’t?”

I want to grab her, shake her, make her see that she has nothing to apologize for. I’m the one who’s been stalking her, invading her privacy, manipulating my way into her life. And yet here she is, those blue eyes wide and earnest, her lips forming the words ‘I’m sorry’ like she’s the one who’s done something wrong.

It’s almost laughable. If I wasn’t so completely gone for her, I’d probably find the humor in it.

“You have nothing to apologize for. I’m the one who should be saying sorry. I know I’ve been… intense. I care about you. More than I probably should.”

There. A half-truth. Enough to make her see that I’m not completely heartless, but not so much that it’ll scare heraway. I have to toe that line, have to keep her close without revealing the depth of my obsession.

She’s looking at me now, her brow furrowed in that way it does when she’s trying to figure something out. I can practically see the gears turning in her head.

“I don’t understand you,” she says. “One minute you’re pushing me away, the next you’re saying things like that. I-I don’t know what to think.”

Join the club, sweetheart. I don’t know what to think either.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m used to you yelling at me by now,” I say.

“I don’t yell at you that much.” When I quirk an eyebrow, she amends, “Okay, maybe more than I should. I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted.” I pause, tilting my head to the side. “You know, you’re pretty cute when you’re mad.”

Mary blushes. “Connor…”

“All fiery and passionate. It’s hot.”

“Do you always have to make everything about sex?”

“With you? Absolutely. It really hurt my feelings, you know.”

I make an exaggerated pout, and she rolls her eyes.

“Oh, please. I’m sure your ego is still perfectly intact.”

“I don’t know. I might need some… reassurance.” I reach out and let my fingers trail down her neck, over her collarbone.

She shivers at the contact. “Connor…” It’s meant to be a warning but comes out more like a whimper. Interesting.

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