“Only when the prize is worth it.”
I take the candy and unwrap the frosted cellophane slowly, the orange flavor hitting my nose before I even pop it in my mouth. He watches me the whole time, not tasting any for himself just yet.
“God,” I murmur, biting down. “You forget how good these are until you go without them for a while. But they feel like they’re yanking out a filling.”
Lawson grins and unwraps his own, green-striped and mint flavored. “Yeah, like a treat and a dental emergency rolled into one.”
We chew in silence. Him leaning casually in the doorway, me leaning against the edge of the sink. Our eyes keep meeting in the quiet, the air between us softer than it was an hour ago when I arrived. And I realize—maybe I got this all wrong. Maybe Lawson doesn’t send me into panic mode like Elijah did. Maybe being near him is what calms me down.
Perhaps he’s not the storm at all. Maybe he’s the anchor.
He watches me for another second, and then his voice breaks through the silence gently. “You good?”
I nod, then pause. “Yeah. Are you? You seemed a little… I don’t know. Mad when I first walked in.”
He exhales and rubs the back of his neck. “I was a little frustrated.”
I arch a brow. “Because I'm here?”
He lifts a shoulder. “Partly, but not in the way that you think. But then I realized… you’re right.”
I blink. “I’m… right?”
That gets me a half-smile. He nods. “I get why you want that boundary between us. Why you need to see me as just your boss. It’s fair and I’m sorry if I didn’t say that sooner.”
But then he takes a step closer, and just like that, the heartbeat I’d worked so hard to calm starts picking up again. My pulse trips over itself as his scent wraps around me.
“You see work and you think stress,” he says, voice lower. “You see me as work, so your brain connects me with stress. With panic and anxiety. With a time in your life where I didn't exist. My presence, when I get too close, triggers you despite having nothing to do with your past.”
I give a tiny nod. “Yeah. That’s... basically true.”
His mouth lifts at one corner, and he reaches out, fingers brushing a loose strand of hair that’s slipped free from my bun. He twirls it around, slow and absentminded, like he doesn’t even realize he’s touching me, but I do. God, I do. I feel it all over.
“But if that were the whole truth and the end of that statement,” he says gently, “we never would’ve become friends. You would’ve kept me at arm’s length a long time ago because I would have made you anxious and reminded you of the way it felt to be completely out of control. But you didn't. You let me in.”
I shake my head. “No, that’s not it..." I start but maybe he's right. "I just… needed to feel like I could breathe around you too so that's why I opened up.”
He nods, eyes steady on mine. “I get that. And if keeping me in that lane helps you breathe easy, then that’s where I’ll stay. Like I said, I’ve got more self-control than you give me credit for.”
His fingers trail down, barely skimming my jaw, or maybe they don't touch it at all. I can't tell. But it tilts my face toward his, and I swear, it feels like my whole body and heart leans with it.
I swallow hard, heart drumming now, every cell of me aware of how close he is. Of the way he’s looking at me.
“What are you doing?” I ask, breath catching. Because God, he's the most handsome man I've ever seen. His eyes are softer now, beard full, and hair a mess. But more than that, he’s so handsome and he’s my friend.
“Just checking,” he says quietly, “to make sure you’re still as attracted to me as I am to you. Your mind might be trying to play defense, Dani, but your body? It hasn’t gotten the memo. Look at your nipples.”
My cheeks burn. “That’s… I mean, that’s a normal response to being this close to you.”
His eyes crinkle with a knowing smile. “I’m not even touching you.”
“It's your scent.”
He leans in, voice rough with amusement. “Same cologne I’ve worn all year.”
“Well, it’s...extra potenttoday.”
He chuckles, low and dangerous. “I sprayed it in the usual places with the usual amount of pressure.”