The next morning, I walked into the office with a decision already made.
I was going to avoid him.
Avoid Jayden Roberts.
Avoid whatever magnetic, dangerous pull he had on me.
Avoid the memory of his voice whispering, “You have no idea how hard you are to stay away from.”
Because I couldn’t afford to feel anything for him—not when my life was already falling apart.
So I kept my head down.
Answered him with short yes-or-no responses.
Used email as much as I could.
Didn’t look at him longer than necessary.
It was survival.
But the moment I handed him a report through the c***k of his office door without stepping inside, his voice turned cold enough to frost glass.
“You may enter the office, Ms. Sanders. I don’t bite.”
His tone made it sound l
