Chapter 32
Thirty Two
Matilda
Henry and I had sex again last night. A lot of sex.
After our time on the sofa, we showered together, where we had sex.
Then made it to bed, where we had sex again.
Today, everything I thought I knew feels like a blur.
Waiting in line for coffee used to be the dullest part of my morning — a sign the long day was only just beginning.
But now? Now there’s a buzz in the air, a giddy anticipation humming beneath my skin.
Henry dropped me off at the coffee shop so no one would see us arriving together.
Waking up in his bed, tangled in his sheets with his perfect, warm body beside me…
I’ve never had a better wake-up call in my life.
Every thought circles back to last night — the way he touched me, the way he made me laugh until my stomach hurt.
I never knew Henry could be so funny. Or so human. It’s addictive — he’s addictive.
“Matilda?”
My name cuts through my daydream, jolting me back to earth. It’s not the barista calling — the voice is behind me. I turn, and my stomach plummets. Sharon — head of residentials — stands there, smiling politely.
“Sharon! Good morning.” My voice is too high. “Getting coffee?”
Smooth, Matilda. Really smooth.
“I thought that was you.” She steps forward in the queue. “Yes, I normally go to Black Beans, but it’s closed today. Is the coffee good here?”
“Yes! Well— Henry likes it, so…”
Sharon laughs lightly. “If Henry likes it, it must be good.” She pauses. “Speaking of Henry, I saw your application for the residential team. Does he know you’re applying?”
I can feel my heart pounding. She hasn’t said who’s through to interviews yet, but I can hardly breathe waiting for her next words.
“Yes, I told him. He’s very supportive — not that that should sway anything, of course.” My words tumble out in one long, nervous rush.
“Of course,” she says with a knowing smile. “Well, I was actually going to email you later today to arrange an interview. Do you have any availability this week?”
Before I can answer, the barista calls my name. “Matilda!” Two coffees and a paper bag of pastries slide onto the counter like a lifeline.
“Yes, of course,” I stammer, grabbing them quickly. “I’ll check my calendar when I get in and send you what I have.”
“Perfect. Speak soon,” Sharon says pleasantly.
I bolt before she can say anything else, juggling coffee cups and pastries all the way to the office.
By the time I step out of the lift, my pulse still hasn’t settled.
Henry’s sitting at his desk, sleeves rolled up, jacket off, every bit the picture of calm control — and I nearly forget how to breathe.
I saw him get dressed this morning, but seeing him here, in that three-piece suit, confident and collected… it hits differently.
Stay on track, Matilda.
I place the coffee and pastries on my desk, pretending to focus on my computer while I check my calendar for Sharon. Normally, I’d take Henry his coffee first, but I need to email her before I lose my nerve.
I’m halfway through typing when I feel him. That presence. The shift in the air.
“Is this how it is now?” Henry’s voice is low, teasing — right beside my ear.
My stomach flips. “What?” I turn slightly, and there he is — leaning close, coffee in hand, that maddening smirk playing on his lips.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt, flustered. “I bumped into Sharon. She wants to book my residential interview.”
The smirk fades into a real smile, warm and proud. “That’s great. When are you booking it for?”
He leans in to look at my screen, so close I can feel the heat from his chest against my back. I should move. Anyone could walk in. But I don’t. I like the way it feels — dangerous, secret, ours.
“I was thinking Friday afternoon,” I whisper.
He shakes his head. “Too long. Keep the momentum going. Don’t give them time to move on to someone else. Tell her you’re free tomorrow at ten. I’ll help you prep tonight, if you want.”
“You’d help me?”
“Of course I would,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“Isn’t that kind of cheating?”
“Well…” He tilts his head, grinning. “If I’m helping as the company CEO — maybe. But if I’m helping as your boyfriend…”
My eyes snap up to his. He freezes, realising what he’s said. A flicker of panic crosses his face before he clears his throat.
“Sorry. Forget I said that.”
“No!” I say far too loudly, then lower my voice. “You just caught me off guard.”
I glance around to make sure the coast is clear before standing and taking his hand. His fingers tighten around mine, grounding me.
“I’ll tell her ten tomorrow,” I whisper. “And I’d love your help tonight.”
He smiles — soft but full of promise — and I swear my knees almost give out.
The tension between us for the rest of the day is unbearable. Every time I look up, Henry’s already watching me from across the office. I can’t think straight. Every look feels loaded.
At two o’clock, he’s in a meeting with Julie from accounts.
I pass by to drop off a file and catch his eyes on me — a flash of heat that shoots straight through me.
I have to walk away before I combust. Behind me, I hear his quiet laugh, followed by Julie’s confused pause.
He mumbles an apology as I flee for the break room.
“Hey stranger,” Natalie calls when I walk in. She’s sitting with Thomas and two new hires.
“Hey, Nat,” I mumble, going straight for the coffee pot, praying she won’t notice the colour still high in my cheeks.
“Where did you go the other night?”
My hand freezes mid-pour. “What?”
“At the bar,” she says, grinning. “We looked for you, but the bouncer said you’d been picked up.”
My heart skips. Please don’t say Henry’s name.
“So who was it?” she presses, her voice playful but curious.
“Oh, just a friend. I’d had too much to drink and figured that was my cue to go home.”
“A male friend?”
Before I can answer, the door opens — and of course, it’s Henry. He walks in calm as ever, grabbing a mug, not even looking our way. My pulse races. He definitely heard that.
“Yes,” I answer finally.
“You didn’t tell me you were seeing anyone,” Thomas pipes up.
Behind me, I feel Henry go still. His presence sharpens the air.
“Erh… well…” I can’t lie to save my life, and my brain feels like scrambled eggs.
Then, Henry’s voice cuts through the silence — smooth, controlled, infuriatingly confident. “Is this the same guy you were telling me about?”
The table goes dead silent. Henry never joins these conversations.
“Yes,” I say carefully, eyes locked on his, wondering what the hell he’s doing.
“He sounds like a good guy.” That smirk again.
“Oh my god,” Natalie gasps. “Who is he, Matilda?”
“It’s… still really new,” I manage, cheeks burning. Henry’s lips twitch, clearly enjoying himself.
“Anyway, I should get back to work.”
“You can’t leave without details!” Natalie calls after me.
“I’ll head back with you,” Henry says smoothly. “Have a good day, everyone.”
The room falls silent behind us as the door shuts.
“What the hell was that?” I hiss.
He doesn’t answer — just takes my arm and pulls me into the stationery cupboard. The scent of paper and toner hits me, and my stomach flips with déjà vu.
“What is it with you and this cupboard?” I laugh nervously.
“It’s the only place we can be alone,” he murmurs, stepping closer until my back hits the shelf. “And I’ve been dying to get you alone all day.”
His breath brushes my lips and every thought in my head disappears.
“And what if someone comes in?” I whisper.
“Then they’ll get a show.”
Before I can respond, his mouth is on mine — hot, hungry, desperate. The world fades. For a few dizzy seconds, there’s only us.
Then — a loud crash outside. Voices. Someone’s dropped something. We freeze. I can barely breathe as footsteps shuffle past.
When the noise finally fades, I pull back, my heart hammering. “We can’t get caught, Henry. Not now — not when I’m up for this job. I can’t risk it.”
He nods, his expression softening. “You’re right. I was being selfish.”
“Don’t apologise,” I say, brushing my thumb over his jaw. “I want to be selfish with you — more than you know. We just have to wait until tonight.”
His smile turns slow and wicked. “Tonight, then.”
And just like that, I know I’m in so much trouble.