Debug my heart

Chapter 5: The Variable of Attraction

The atmosphere in the executive suite felt different after Mary Collins and Cynthia had swept out. The expensive perfume lingering in the air felt like a challenge, a reminder of a world Abigail didn't belong to. She tried to focus on the Aegis front-end code, but the image of Cynthia laughing with Alexander through the glass was burned into her mind.

Abigail waited until the office was at its quietest, the only sound the soft hum of the HVAC system and the clicking of her own keys. She finally looked up from her monitors, her "First Class" courage overriding her "Junior Engineer" hesitation.

"Mr. Collins?"

Alexander didn't look up immediately. He was staring at a document, his brow furrowed. "Yes, Abigail?"

"The people from earlier," she began, trying to sound casual, though her heart was thumping against her ribs. "Maya mentioned... well, I couldn't help but notice the office got a bit more 'royal' for an hour. Is everything okay?"

Alexander finally set his pen down and leaned back, exhaling a long, weary breath. He looked at the door his mother had just exited. "That was my mother, Mary. And the woman with her was Cynthia."

Abigail bit her lip, her fingers hovering over the home row of her keyboard. "She seemed very... at home here."

"She is," Alexander said, his voice dropping an octave. He looked at Abigail with a strange intensity. "Our families have been linked since we were children. My mother has spent the better part of a decade trying to 'match-make' us. She believes Cynthia is the missing piece of the Collins legacy."

Abigail felt a sharp, icy pang of jealousy pierce through her. She looked down at her hands. "And is she?"

"Cynthia is a brilliant woman," Alexander said, and for a moment, Abigail’s heart sank. But he continued, "But I see her as a younger sister. A childhood friend. There is no 'code' in the world that could turn that history into a future. My mother just hasn't accepted the system error in her plan yet."

The relief that flooded through Abigail was so sudden it made her dizzy. She felt a flush of heat crawl up her neck that had nothing to do with her hangover. She wasn't sure why it mattered so much—they barely knew each other—but knowing Cynthia wasn't a romantic threat felt like a successful compile after a hundred failed attempts.

Alexander watched her. He didn't tell her that he had seen her in the breakroom with Louise. He didn't tell her that seeing her laugh with his best friend had caused a physical tightening in his chest—a glitch he couldn't explain. He had felt a "weird attraction" to Abigail since the moment she’d insulted his coffee machine, but seeing her with Louise had triggered a primitive, protective instinct he usually kept locked behind his corporate armor.

"Why were you talking to Louise?" he asked suddenly. The question was sharper than he intended.

Abigail blinked, surprised by the shift in his tone. "He was... he was giving me a hydration pack. For the 'Baby Shark' aftermath. He's very kind."

"He's a doctor," Alexander muttered, turning back to his screen. "He's trained to be kind. It’s a diagnostic tool."

"Are you jealous, Mr. Collins?" Abigail teased, the words out of her mouth before she could stop them.

Alexander froze. He slowly turned his head to look at her, his dark eyes smoldering with something unreadable. "I don't get jealous, Abigail. I get results."

An hour later, as they were wrapping up for the evening, Abigail stood up to grab her bag. The rain outside had turned into a full-blown Vancouver downpour, and the reflection of the city lights on the floor-to-ceiling glass was distracting.

As she turned to say goodnight, her heel caught on the edge of the plush executive rug.

"Whoa—!"

The world tilted. Her "First Class" reflexes failed her as she slipped, her feet sliding out from under her on the polished hardwood border. She braced for the impact of the floor, but it never came.

Instead, she slammed into something solid and warm.

Alexander had moved with a speed that didn't seem possible for a man in a three-piece suit. His arms wrapped around her waist, hauling her flush against his chest to steady her. The impact forced a small gasp from her lips.

For a long, breathless moment, neither of them moved.

Abigail was pinned against him, her hands instinctively clutching his forearms. She could feel the steady, heavy thrum of his heart through his silk shirt. The scent of sandalwood and rain was overwhelming now, wrapping around her senses like a physical weight.

She looked up, and found him looking down. His face was inches from hers. The "Ice King" mask was gone. In its place was a raw, intense hunger that made Abigail’s knees go weak for a completely different reason. His grip on her waist tightened, his fingers splaying across the small of her back.

"You really should watch your step, Abigail," he whispered, his voice vibrating through her entire body. "You're prone to... unexpected crashes."

"Maybe I just need a better system architect," she breathed, her gaze dropping to his lips.

The air between them was electric, a high-voltage current that threatened to blow every fuse in the building. Alexander didn't let go. In fact, he pulled her a fraction of an inch closer, his eyes darkening until they were almost black. For a second, Abigail thought he was going to kiss her—and she realized, with terrifying clarity, that she wanted him to.