Chapter 25
The next few days feel like a dance we’re both pretending not to notice.
He finds excuses to be near me. I find excuses to stay late.
We hover around each other, close enough to feel every shift in tension.
On Wednesday afternoon, he appears at my desk with a look I haven’t seen before, something dark, something determined.
“Come with me,” he says.
I follow him into the elevator, pulse racing. The doors close, and the small space pulls us closer.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Dinner,” he says, his voice warm velvet. “No work this time.”
My heart trips. “So… a date?”
Silence. He turns his head slowly, his gaze intent.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
His lips twitch. “Then yes. A date.”
The restaurant he takes me to is intimate. Soft lighting, candles flickering, a window overlooking the city. He pulls out my chair, his fingers brushing my arm. The touch is barely there, but my whole body reacts.
The conversation flows effortlessly. We talk about everything, childhood stories, stupid fears, things we loved and things we lost. He’s surprisingly open, letting pieces of himself fall into the space between us.
At one point, he says, “I’ve wanted to take you out for a long time.”
I stop breathing. “Knox…”
His eyes lock on mine. “I’m not crossing a line you don’t want crossed.”
Everything in me trembles. “I want…” I can’t finish. The words tangle in my throat.
But he hears them anyway.
Later, outside my building, he steps closer, so close I feel the heat of him.
He brushes a strand of hair behind my ear. My breath stutters.
“I’m not kissing you tonight.” His voice is low, rough. “Because if I do, I won’t stop.”
My knees weaken.
“Goodnight, Lana,” he whispers, with a light kiss on the cheek.
And even though he doesn’t touch me again, I feel him everywhere.