Page 5 of Izzy and Her Off-Limits Love

“Of course,” she says a little too quickly. “It’s just been a while. I can’t believe no one told me you were moving home.”

“I probably haven’t talked to the family enough,” I say. “A lot has changed for me in the past year.” I stop just short of mentioning thatI’m single too.

On the heels of her own confession, it feels like it might be presumptuous to layer the info on now, especially with how odd she’s acting about my presence here.

Surely she knows I’m single though. Even if she hadn’t heard about me moving, which is admittedly odd, I broke up with Natasha almost a year ago. There’s no way it never came up in all the family gatherings I’ve missed. I mean, I know how many cavities Uncle Jake had last year and also what he said when he was coming down from the laughing gas after a root canal. Aunt Eloise especially tells everyoneeverything.

Not to mention the Oakley Island gossip account on TikTok. Frank—who isn’t even family—probably had the news up for his followers by midnight the same day. I know for a fact Izzy follows Frank’s account. We used to laugh about it together all the time.

But whether she learned the info or not, the point is, she’s single, and I’m single, and I’m not going to let this opportunity go to waste.

I lean forward, propping my elbows on my knees. “Listen. I’d love to know how you’ve been. We should get together sometime. Catch up.”

“Yeah.” Izzy’s single-word answer is not convincing. “Should be easy since we’ll be working in the same office.” She fidgets for a long moment before adding, “Speaking of … I should get back to work. I’m pretty sure my cubicle mate tracks the time I spend away from my desk.”

Well. Okay then.

The hope in my chest fizzles the slightest bit, but I push away my disappointment and quickly stand, offering Izzy my hand. “Not sure that sounds like a very healthy work environment, Iz.”

She ignores my comment, but she at least slips her fingers into mine and lets me gently pull her up. If I happen to tug her closer to my chest than strictly necessary, oh well. Carefully, I watch her expression, still clasping her hand. She doesn’t step back immediately but instead hovers, swaying a little closer. When she glances up at me, her eyes are heavy-lidded.

A heavy awareness settles between us, and I give her fingers a tiny squeeze. She might just read it as friendly, a simple gesture, but I’m hoping she senses the question I’m asking.

Does she feel the same tug between us that I do?

A second later, Izzy drops my hand, stepping back as she runs her fingers over her hair.

Something is still holding her back, and I plan to find out what.

Unable to help myself, I reach out and give the end of her ponytail a little tug. “Can’t wait to see more of you, Iz.”

“It will definitely be … something,” she says, hand on the door.

Before she opens it, I say, “Izzy, wait.” Considering her lackluster welcome, I still don’t feel great about saying what I have to say next, but at this point, it can’t be helped.

She looks at me over her shoulder. “Hmm?”

“You don’t need to worry about your cubicle mate tracking you. At least not for the next week or so.”

“Why?”

I take a breath, hoping I made the right call by asking for this in the first place. Knowing I could never live with myself if I didn’t try.

“I spoke to your boss and requested support. Until Christmas, you’ll be vacating your cube and working in the conference room—directly with me.”

THREE

Izzy

I standin the center of my bedroom, which now looks more like a clothing morgue.Here lie all of Izzy’s work clothes, dead from indecision now that my lifelong crush will be working in my office. In the conference room. With me.

“This is stupid,” I tell myself. So stupid I’m talking to myself. And you know what? I don’t need to puzzle this out on my own.

I grab my phone. Merritt picks up on the second ring, and my chest loosens a little at the sound of her voice.

“Izzy? You okay?”

“I need help. Clothing help.”

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