MACKENZIE
"Who is Jack?"
His voice was deep and rough, a tone that sent a shiver through me. As I walked through the rows of the office, I found him standing by the desk, holding a paper in his hand. His thick brows furrowed, his eyes locked onto the drawing, and the veins on his
arms stood out, making my heart flutter.
"Who is Jack?" he repeated, this time looking up at me, his expression serious. I could feel the tension in the air, his jealousy palpable. A small smile tugged at my lips as I walked toward him.
"A friend," I replied, stopping just short of him. He raised an eyebrow, setting the paper down and straightening his posture as he looked down at me.
He was taller than me, and I couldn't help but appreciate the height difference. At 5'7", I always preferred men who were ta
