14. Lucy
CHAPTER 14
Lucy
I ’ve been Jarvin’s secretary for a few weeks now, and staying late is something I’ve grown accustomed to. The office is quieter, making my thoughts of him that much louder.
The office is dimly lit, the clock on the wall ticking past midnight. The glow from my computer screen casts a soft light, barely illuminating the space around me.
I push a strand of hair behind my ear, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling in. The last-minute project is demanding every ounce of my attention, and I’m determined to finish it.
Yet, despite my best efforts, I can’t ignore the faint sounds of movement coming from Jarvin’s office. The shuffle of papers, the occasional creak of his chair—it’s a constant reminder that he’s still here. A flutter stirs in my stomach every time I think about him just a few doors away.
It’s ridiculous. I shouldn’t be feeling this way about my boss, especially not after how hard I've worked to keep things professional. But there it is—an undeniable pull that I can’t seem to shake.
I lean back in my chair, rubbing my temples in an attempt to stave off the growing headache. Staying late is about finishing this project on time. That's what I keep telling myself.
Yet there's an uncomfortable truth lurking beneath that rationale: part of me is avoiding Jarvin during regular office hours because being around him stirs up too many confusing emotions.
With a sigh, I refocus on the screen in front of me. Numbers and data start to run together as fatigue sets in. I adjust the brightness on my monitor, trying to fight off the drowsiness threatening to overwhelm me. My fingers move swiftly over the keyboard, but each keystroke feels heavier than the last.
I hear another sound from Jarvin’s office—a low murmur that could be him talking on the phone or maybe just muttering to himself as he works through his own tasks. It's a strange comfort knowing he’s nearby, even if it complicates things for me emotionally. God everything is so conflicting.
“Just focus,” I mutter under my breath, straightening up and diving back into the work at hand. This project needs to get done, and that's what matters most right now.
When the project is finally completed, I gather my things and head to the stairwell, hoping to avoid any late-night encounters. The reality of taking twelve flights of stairs just to avoid facing my emotions is astounding.
The building is eerily quiet, the only sounds coming from the hum of the air conditioning and my own footsteps echoing down the hall. My bag feels heavier than usual, weighed down by exhaustion and the jumble of emotions I’d rather not dissect.
I reach the stairwell door and pause for a moment, taking a deep breath. The air feels cool against my skin, a welcome contrast to the stuffy office. Just as I’m about to push the door open, I hear the elevator ding open at the end of the hall.
My heart skips a beat. I glance back, and there he is—Jarvin commanding an air of confidence that seems to fill the entire corridor.
His gaze locks onto mine, and I feel a rush of heat flood my cheeks. He raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Taking the scenic route?" he asks, his tone laced with challenge.
For a moment, I consider bolting down the stairs anyway. But something in his eyes holds me in place—a determination that makes it clear he won’t let me slip away so easily. Before I can talk myself out of it, I abandon my plan and move toward the elevator, my heart pounding with every step.
As I approach, Jarvin steps aside to let me in. The small space feels even smaller with him standing so close. The doors slide shut behind us with a soft whoosh, and I can feel his eyes on me as we descend.
I keep my gaze fixed on the floor numbers ticking down above the door, trying to steady my breathing. What am I doing?
The silence stretches out between us, thick with unspoken words.
"Late night?" he finally asks, breaking the tension.
I nod, scoffing without looking at him. "Yeah. Wanted to finish that project."
"Good work," he says simply, but there’s something in his voice—an undercurrent of sincerity that catches me off guard.
"Thanks," I manage to reply, my voice barely above a whisper.
Inside the elevator, the atmosphere is thick with unspoken tension. Jarvin stands close—too close—his presence overwhelming. I can feel the heat radiating off him, and it makes my skin tingle with anxiety and something I don’t want to name.
I glance over at him, his muscular form and size filling the elevator. A fleeting impulse runs through me making me want to reach out and trace the hard ridges of his chest. Instead, I ball my fists and cast my eyes down.
He shifts slightly, and out of the corner of my eye, I see his jaw tighten. “You’ve been avoiding me,” he accuses, his tone low and bristling.
My head snaps up and I meet his eyes, accusing and something else—longing?
“I’ve been busy,” I say back, my voice sharper than I intended. The words hang in the air, brittle and defensive.
Suddenly, the elevator jolts and comes to an abrupt stop between floors, knocking me against his solid body. The lights flicker once, twice, then go out completely before dim emergency lighting kicks in.
My breath catches in my throat as the confined space amplifies the tension between us. I can feel the muscles tensing behind a suit.
“Great,” I mutter under my breath, as I straighten myself, trying to mask my fluttering heart with sarcasm. It’s easy to avoid him in the office, but here, so close, it’s as if the feelings I’m trying to deny are begging to be free.
We glance at each other, and it’s just like the first time our eyes met at the airport. My heart beats erratically against my ribs and it’s as if I can’t breathe. His gaze is intense, burning straight through me and I know he feels it too.
Jarvin shifts closer, his presence now almost suffocating in the darkened elevator. “Lucy,” he says softly but firmly, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife. “We need to talk.”
I turn to face him, our eyes locking in the dim light. “About what?” My tone is defiant, but there’s a quiver in it that betrays me, a glimmer of desire thrums through me.
“About this,” he gestures between us, frustration evident in his voice. “Whatever this is.”
I feel a surge of emotions—anger, confusion, need—all fighting for dominance. “There’s nothing to talk about,” I say coldly, clinging to my defenses. “I’m just here to do my job.”
He takes a step closer letting out a dark laugh as he closes the already minimal distance between us. “Is that really what you want?” His voice is lower now, the vibrations rumble through me, as my resolve teeters on the edge.
I bite my lip, refusing to answer. The walls of the elevator feel like they’re closing in on us as we stand there in tense silence.
Jarvin turns to face me fully, his eyes dark and intense. I feel a magnetic pull, my body betraying my mind's insistence on keeping distance. "Lucy," he murmurs, stepping closer, until my back is pressed against the wall. His voice is softer now, filled with a vulnerability that catches me off guard. I try to look away, but his gaze holds me captive. The air is thick with unspoken desire, a current of electricity crackling between us.
Despite my defiance, the memory of that first kiss flashes before my eyes and I find myself wanting it. I need to say something, to push him away, but I can't. My body is frozen by the intensity, the tension coiling tighter between us. My breathing quickens and slowly I let my bag drop to the floor.
Jarvin closes the distance, his hand reaching pressing his palm flat on the side of my head. His other holds my face. My pulse quickens, my resolve crumbling under his touch.
There's a moment where he hesitates as if expecting me to pull away. My breath is coming out in desperate pants. But I can't pull myself away, and right now, I don't want to. My hand slides up to his chest, the alarm bells ringing in my head as I abandon every rational thought firing through my mind.
He leans in, capturing my lips in a searing kiss. It's fierce and demanding, a release of all the pent-up longing and frustration that has been building between us.
I melt into him, feeling my resolve shatter, kissing him back with equal fervor. The kiss deepens, becoming more urgent as we lose ourselves in the moment. My hand tightens in the front of his shirt as his hips pin me against the wall.
"You should be mine," he growls, sending a shiver down my body. "Why can't I have you?" His breath is hot against my mouth. I whimper in response, unable to give him the answer he wants.
His hand slides around my waist, pulling me closer until there’s no space left between us. My hands are on his chest, feeling the solid muscle beneath his shirt. His touch is both gentle and possessive, sending shivers down my spine.
In this enclosed space, surrounded by darkness and our shared breath, all my fears and doubts seem to dissipate. For once, I allow myself to be vulnerable, to feel without overthinking. His lips move against mine with a desperation that matches my own, each kiss a promise of something more.
As we finally pull apart for air, our foreheads rest against each other. Our breaths mingle in the small space between us, both of us trying to steady our racing hearts. His eyes search mine for any sign of regret or hesitation.
"Lucy," he whispers again, this time softer but more urgent. The way he says my name sends a thrill through me.
I look up at him, seeing the same optimism reflected in his eyes that I feel within myself. This moment is fragile yet powerful; it holds all the potential for something extraordinary or devastatingly complicated.
As if on cue, the elevator jolts back to life, a sudden motion that snaps us out of the trance. We pull apart, breathless and disheveled, the reality of what just happened comes crashing down around me. My cheeks burn the flush traveling up from my chest, exhilaration and dread swirling simultaneously in my racing heart.
Jarvin looks at me, his eyes searching mine for any sign of regret or hesitation. His hand still rests on my waist, the warmth of his touch seeping through the fabric of my blouse. My mind races, torn between the ecstasy of the kiss and the fear of what it means for our professional relationship.
I take a step away, putting some distance between us. "I'm sorry, this... this can't happen," I stammer, my voice barely above a whisper.
His brow furrows, confusion and frustration mingling on his face. "Why not?" he asks softly, his tone gentle but insistent.
I look away, unable to meet his gaze. "We're colleagues," I say, trying to steady my breathing. "You're my boss. It complicates everything."
My heart is racing wildly in my chest. That kiss was everything I wanted it to be and everything that I was trying to avoid. But my fears and insecurities slam down on me, the alarm bells still ringing, making it hard to ignore.
He lets out a slow breath, his hand dropping to his side. "Lucy," he begins, but the elevator doors slide open with a soft ding, cutting him off.
I step out quickly, needing to put more space between us. The hallway feels too bright after the dim light of the elevator, and I blink rapidly, trying to adjust. I can't breathe, the impact of the kiss still grasping tight to my body. I make my way towards the exit, desperate for fresh air and clarity.
Jarvin follows me out, his footsteps echoing in the empty corridor. "Lucy. Wait," he calls after me, his voice laced with urgency.
I swallow hard, not trusting myself to respond. With one last glance over my shoulder at him standing there, confusion etched on his face, I push open the door and step into the cool night air.