Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Solenn
The office was quiet—the kind of quiet that only existed after-hours, when the hum of ringing phones, clicking keyboards, and constant conversations faded into nothing.
The usual chaos of Spencer & Co. had died down, leaving behind nothing but dim overhead lighting, the faint glow of city lights spilling through the windows, and the occasional scratch of a pen against paper.
And him.
Maverick sat across from me at the conference table, sleeves rolled up, fingers moving smoothly over the keyboard as he typed, his focus unbreakable, and intense.
The past few hours had been spent going through the final details of the Westbridge acquisition, tying up loose ends before everything was officially signed on Monday. We had been at it since early evening, and now, the clock on the wall read just past ten.
I was exhausted, but Maverick? He looked the same as he had this morning—completely composed, completely unreadable, completely… him.
I sighed, stretching my arms over my head, feeling the ache settle into my muscles. "You know, some people have lived on Saturday nights."
Maverick didn’t glance up from his laptop. "Some people don’t run a billion-dollar company."
I rolled my eyes. "Right. How could I forget?"
Still, he didn’t react, his focus locked on whatever numbers were scrolling across his screen.
I leaned back in my chair, tapping my pen against the table, watching him because I didn’t know what else to do.
The past few days had been a silent war of restraint, both of us pretending like nothing had happened like we hadn’t kissed in front of an entire gala, like I hadn’t spent the night in his penthouse, like I hadn’t left before dawn just to avoid waking up next to him.
We hadn’t talked about it.
We hadn’t acknowledged it.
And yet, somehow, it was everywhere.
In the way, his eyes lingered a second too long when I spoke. On the way, I caught myself listening to his voice in a crowded room. In the way every damn moment we were alone felt heavier than it should.
And now, in this empty office, with nothing but the glow of city lights around us, it felt like something was waiting to happen.
Maverick sighed suddenly, closing his laptop with a quiet click. "You’re getting distracted."
I raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
His gaze met mine, sharp and knowing. "You keep staring at me instead of working."
My mouth parted slightly, caught between irritation and embarrassment. "I was not staring."
His lips tilted just slightly, a smirk barely forming before he controlled it. "Right. You just happen to be looking in my direction without blinking for minutes at a time."
I huffed, gripping my pen tighter. "Don’t flatter yourself, Spencer. I was zoning out."
He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, completely unbothered. "You sure about that?"
I narrowed my eyes, hating that he was enjoying this. "Positive."
We stared at each other, neither of us backing down.
And then, suddenly, he did something I didn’t expect.
He stood, stretching his arms above his head, his muscles shifting beneath his shirt, and then—without a word—he walked over to the small kitchenette in the corner of the office.
I frowned, watching as he opened a cabinet, reached inside, and pulled out a single-wrapped pastry.
He turned, tossing it onto the table in front of me.
I blinked. "What’s this?"
"Croissant," he said simply, grabbing a bottle of water for himself.
I just stared at it. "You… keep croissants in the office?"
"Not usually," he said, taking a sip of water, his gaze steady on mine. "But I figured if I was going to make you stay late on a Saturday, I should at least have something to shut you up about your ‘dream scenario’."
My breath hitched slightly.
It took me a full second to remember what he was talking about.
The elevator. The teasing. The way he had looked at me when he said my mind was somewhere else.
I swallowed, picking up the croissant, feeling far too aware of the weight of it in my hands.
"You remembered that?" I said softly.
Maverick leaned against the counter, arms crossed, expression unreadable. "I remember everything you say, Solenn."
The words were casual, smooth, and effortless.
But they landed deep.
I stared at him, trying to find some trace of amusement in his face, but there was none. Just something quiet. Something that felt dangerously close to vulnerable.
I swallowed, breaking off a small piece of the croissant, feeling weirdly unsteady. "Thanks," I murmured.
He nodded once, but his gaze didn’t leave mine.
I had never seen this side of him before.
The side that remembered stupid conversations. The side that brought pastries to the office just because he thought I’d complain. The side that, for one single moment, felt like something more than my boss.
And it was dangerous.
Because I wanted more of it.
The silence stretched, thicker than before.
I felt my pulse slow, then speed up, then slow again.
And then—I don’t know what possessed me to do it—but I started to lean in.
Just slightly.
Just enough that I could smell his cologne, the faint scent of cedar, and something darker.
Just enough that I could see the flicker of something in his gaze that told me he noticed.
And for a moment—a single, reckless moment—I thought he might let me.
That he might meet me halfway.
That he might?—
His phone buzzed.
The moment snapped like a rubber band.
Maverick exhaled, pushing off the counter, grabbing his phone and glancing at the screen before shoving it back into his pocket.
"Time to wrap up," he said, voice back to business. "We need to have everything finalized before Monday morning."
I blinked, forcing myself to recover, forcing myself to push away whatever the hell that had been.
"Right," I said, setting the croissant down and grabbing my pen. "Back to work."
Maverick nodded, walking back to his seat as if nothing had happened.
And maybe nothing had.
Maybe it was just a passing moment, a miscalculation, a mistake.
But as I stared down at my notes, my heart still beating unevenly in my chest, I knew one thing for certain.
It wouldn’t be the last one.