27
The car was quiet as it pulled away from the office, merging smoothly into traffic.
Amanda sat back against the plush leather seat, telling herself this was normal.
Just a ride home. Nothing unusual.
Except... it didn't feel normal.
It felt charged.
The day was over, the stress had faded, but the silence between them wasn't empty. It was thick, filled with the weight of everything they hadn't said.
Ericka sat beside her, legs crossed, fingers idly resting against the edge of her knee. Composed, unreadable, effortless as always.
Amanda exhaled softly, turning to her. "So, what made you decide to leave at a reasonable hour for once?"
Ericka hummed, glancing out the window. "Even I know when to call it a day."
Amanda smirked. "I don't believe you."
Ericka turned her head slightly, amusement flickering in her eyes. "You should try it sometime."
Amanda scoffed. "I left work at a normal time today."
"You left at the same time as me," Ericka countered. "Which is still later than most people."
Amanda narrowed her eyes. "Are you saying I work too much?"
Ericka smirked. "I'm saying you're dangerously close to becoming me."
Amanda feigned a horrified gasp. "God forbid."
Ericka chuckled, shaking her head.
The conversation should have ended there.
But something about the low, relaxed way Ericka was looking at her made Amanda's stomach twist.
This wasn't the boardroom. This wasn't a meeting. There were no contracts to go over, no reports to review.
There was no reason for Ericka to still be watching her like that.
Amanda licked her lips, turning her gaze toward the city lights passing by outside the window.
She could feel it again.
That line they kept pretending existed.
And how it kept moving.
The car slowed as they reached her apartment building, the driver easing to a smooth stop along the curb.
Amanda turned back to Ericka, who was already watching her. "Thanks for the ride."
Ericka nodded once. "Get some sleep tonight."
Amanda huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head. "You and my bossy sleep schedule."
Ericka smirked. "You'll thank me when you don't collapse at your desk."
Amanda rolled her eyes but smiled anyway. She reached for the door handle, but hesitated for just a second.
It wasn't much. Just a pause.
A moment where she almost said something else.
But she didn't.
Instead, she exhaled, shook her head at herself, and pushed open the door.
As she stepped out, the night air felt heavier than before.
She shut the door and took a few steps toward her building before glancing over her shoulder.
Through the tinted glass, she could see Ericka still inside the car, still watching her.
Then, just as smoothly as before, the car pulled away from the curb and disappeared down the street.
Amanda stood there for a second, staring after it.
Then she sighed, rubbing her temples.
She needed to stop thinking about this. About her.
But the problem was...
She wasn't sure she could.
_________________________________
The week went by in a blur.
Meetings, reports, back-to-back scheduling—Amanda barely had time to breathe, let alone think about anything else.
Which was exactly what she wanted.
Because if she stayed busy, she wouldn't have to acknowledge the fact that Ericka hadn't left her mind since that car ride home.
She buried herself in work, tackled every task thrown her way, and pretended that she wasn't overanalyzing every glance, every word, every moment where the air between them felt heavier than it should.
But when Friday rolled around and the office started emptying out for the weekend, Amanda realized something.
She wasn't distracted enough.
Not even close.
Which was why, the second she got home, she grabbed her phone and texted the one person who could force her out of this ridiculous headspace.
Amanda: You up?
Samantha: Babe. It's not even 8. Of course I'm up.
Amanda: Want to go out?
Samantha: ...who are you and what have you done with my best friend?
Amanda rolled her eyes.
Amanda: I just need a drink.
Samantha: Ohhh, I see what's happening. You're spiraling.
Amanda groaned, already regretting texting her.
Amanda: No, I'm not.
Samantha: You absolutely are. This is about HER, isn't it?
Amanda refused to answer that.
Samantha: BABE. YOU CAN'T RUN FROM YOUR FEELINGS.
Amanda huffed, typing quickly.
Amanda: I'm not running. I'm distracting. There's a difference.
Samantha: LOL sure. Okay, meet me at Tipsies in an hour.
Amanda sighed, relieved.
Amanda: Be there.
She tossed her phone onto the counter and ran a hand through her hair.
A drink. Loud music. A night out.
That's what she needed.