Chapter 26 Ruby
Ruby
Idrop my phone facedown on my desk.
My pulse has not slowed. Not even slightly.
Jaxon Cole is going to be the end of me.
JAXON
I should go back to work.
I should answer my emails. I should prepare for the next phase of the project. I should focus on the investor call scheduled for tomorrow.
I don’t.
I’m still leaning against the corner of the hallway where she left me, replaying the moment like a highlight reel.
The way she stepped back. The way her breath caught. The way she froze, not in fear, but in awareness.
The way she leaned into the moment even while trying to flee it.
I’ve been patient.
More patient than I usually am.
But now?
Now I’ve confirmed exactly what I suspected:
She feels it. Deeply. Viscerally. Completely.
She’s terrified of it.
Which means the next step has to be careful. Intentional. Steady.
I’m going to kiss her soon.
Not today.
But soon.
And the moment I do, her world will shift.
I push off the wall and head back to my office, sending one message on the way:
Jaxon:
We need a follow-up session.
Tomorrow morning.
My office.
9am.
Her reply arrives one minute later:
Ruby:
kay.
One word. Short. Simple.
But she typed it fast.
She’s flustered.
Good.
Tomorrow I’ll take us further.
Not all the way.
Not yet.
But enough that she stops lying to herself.
Enough that she stops running.
Enough that she looks at me the way I look at her:
Like everything else can wait.
RUBY
My phone buzzes.
A new message.
From him.
I feel heat crawl up my neck.
Tomorrow.
9am.
His office.
That’s too soon. Too close. Too intimate.
Too… everything.
I inhale sharply.
My whole body says yes.
My brain says run.
My heart says you’re already gone.
I close my eyes.
I whisper to myself:
“Oh no.”
But the truth?
It’s not oh no.
It’s:
“Oh god, I want this.”
And that’s the problem.
I don’t sleep.
Not properly.I drift. I jolt awake. I drift again. I rehearse thirty different versions of “Good morning” and all of them sound like either I’m flirting or confessing to a felony.
By 7am I’m spiraling.
By 8 am, I’m sweating.
By 8:30am I’m praying for an earthquake, a power outage, a surprise evacuation drill,
literally any act of God to save me.
None arrives.
At 8:57am, I walk toward the elevator holding my coffee like it’s a weapon.
By 8:58, my stomach is somewhere near my throat.
By 8:59…
I’m standing outside his office, staring at the door like it's the Gates of Sexy Hell.
I knock.
“Come in,” he says.
My stomach flips.
I open the door, and then everything inside me drops.
He’s already standing. Already watching me. And his expression… Oh god. It’s not neutral. It’s not professional. Its intent. He looks at me like he dreamed about me. Like he woke up wanting this. Wanting me.
My pulse stutters.
“Morning,” I whisper.
“Ruby,” he says quietly. “Close the door.”
My hand actually trembles on the handle.
And when the latch clicks, the air shifts.
It’s just us.
No sound. No witnesses. No excuses.
“Come here,” he says.
I do.
Because I can’t not.
JAXON
She’s nervous today.
More nervous than before.
But she’s not running.
She walks toward me softly, cautiously, every step like a confession she’s not ready to say out loud.
Her hair is tucked behind one ear. Her blouse is fitted. She smells warm and sweet and faintly floral.
Beautiful.
I gesture to the chair next to mine again, but I don’t sit.
I watch her.
She sits slowly.
Her breath hitches.
Good.
I move closer.
Not touching, not yet, but close enough that her knee brushes mine under the desk.
She jolts.
I smile.
“Did you sleep?” I ask.
She swallows. “Not much.”
“Why?”
Her gaze flicks away. “I… I was thinking.”
My voice drops. “About yesterday?”
Her silence tells me everything.
I reach out, slowly, carefully, until my fingers brush her wrist. She inhales sharply.
I wait.
She doesn’t pull away.
I slide my fingers down, tracing a line she feels everywhere.
She whispers, “Jaxon…”
“Yes.”
“This is dangerous.”
I lean in. Close. Close enough that my forehead nearly touches hers.
“Only if you want it to be.”
Her breathing unravels.
Her lips part.
She’s trembling.
I touch her chin with my fingers, gentle, steady, and lift her face just enough for her to look at me.
“Tell me to stop,” I say softly.
Her thigh presses against mine.
She’s shaking like she’s fighting herself.
“I…” Her breath catches. “I can’t.”
That’s all I need.
I tilt her chin up another fraction.
Her lips are right there.
Soft. Pink. Barely parted.
I whisper, “Then I’m going to kiss you.”
She whispers back, “Okay.”
RUBY
He moves slowly.
So slow I could die.
His hand stays on my chin, warm and steady. His breath brushes my mouth. His forehead nearly touches mine.
I’m trembling.
He notices.
He always notices.
“Look at me,” he says softly.
I do.
His eyes soften. Dark and warm and full of something I don’t want to name.
Then he leans in, and touches his lips to mine.
It’s soft. So soft it hurts.
A question. A warning. A promise.
I melt instantly.
My hand slides up his chest without permission, clutching his shirt like I need something to hold onto.
He deepens the kiss just slightly, tilting his head, letting the heat build, letting me fall into it.
And god, I fall.
A soft sound escapes me.
His fingers tighten at my jaw.
He pulls back just an inch.
Just enough to murmur against my lips:
“Again.”
I inhale sharply.
He kisses me again, deeper this time, slow and consuming and controlled.
My whole body lights up.
His hand slides to my waist. Mine curls at the back of his neck.
I forget the office. I forget my name. I forget everything except the feeling of him kissing me like he’s been holding himself back for days.
Because he has.
We break apart slowly.
Breathless.
Shaken.
Changed.
His forehead rests against mine.
“Ruby,” he whispers. “This is going to get complicated.”
I whisper back, “I know.”
“And you’re not running this time.”
“I know.”
His thumb strokes my jaw.
“I’m not stopping,” he says quietly.
“I know,” I breathe.
And the truth?
I don’t want him to.