Catch But Don't Release

Chapter 12

Emily’s apartment door clicked shut behind her, but her pulse didn’t get the memo. Her whole body still thrummed with leftover adrenaline—warm, fizzy, impossible to calm. She leaned back against the door for a moment, eyes closed, trying to breathe normally. It didn’t work.

Because all she could see was Brody.

His smile when she said tomorrow. The way he looked at her like she was something he’d been waiting for. The way her hand fit in his like it belonged there.

She pushed off the door and walked deeper into her apartment, flicking on lights as she went. The familiar space should have grounded her. Instead, it made the truth louder.

She was falling for her boss.

And not in a cute, harmless crush way. In a dangerous, can’t‑stop‑thinking‑about-him, can’t‑stay-away way.

Her friends would tell her to run. They’d list every reason it was a bad idea—power dynamics, heartbreak, complications. Emily didn’t want to hear any of it. Not tonight. Not when her heart was still racing from the way he’d looked at her under the streetlight.

She reached her bedroom, kicked off her shoes, and was halfway through pulling her hair down when her phone buzzed.

Her stomach flipped.

Brody.

Of course it was him. Because he couldn’t stay away either. Because he’d made it very clear—without saying the words—that he wanted her. That he wasn’t going to let anything get in his way.

She opened the message.

Brody: Where are we going tomorrow?

Emily’s smile came fast, unfiltered, the kind she hadn’t worn since she was a teenager with a crush. She sat on the edge of her bed, thumbs hovering before she typed:

Emily: Some place I like to go to. It might not be your style, but if you give it a chance, I think you’ll like it.

The three dots appeared almost instantly.

Brody: I think anywhere I have your company is a place I already like.

Her breath caught. He was flirting—openly, deliberately—and she loved it. Loved the warmth it sent through her. Loved the way he didn’t pretend he didn’t want her.

But she also needed to keep her guard up. At least a little.

Emily: Then it’s settled.

A pause. Then:

Brody: So you’re not telling me. I’ll have to use my imagination.

She bit her lip, shaking her head even though he couldn’t see her.

Emily: Just make sure that imagination doesn’t get the best of you.

She could practically feel his grin through the screen.

Brody: No promises.

The tension between them—soft, electric, addictive—wrapped around her like a blanket. They said their good nights, but Emily didn’t put her phone down right away. She held it against her chest, staring at the ceiling, letting herself feel everything she’d been trying to deny.

Tomorrow was going to be trouble.

The kind she wasn’t sure she wanted to avoid. Morning came all too quick.

Emily’s morning felt like stepping straight into a dream she wasn’t ready to wake up from. The adrenaline from last night hadn’t faded—it had settled into something warmer, deeper, something that made her skin feel too tight and her thoughts too loud.

She stood in front of her closet far longer than she should have, pulling out tops, discarding them, trying again. Nothing felt right until suddenly—there it was. An outfit that hugged her body in all the right places, made her feel confident, made her feel… seen. And she knew exactly who she wanted to see her.

By the time she walked into the office building, her nerves were a mix of excitement and danger. She told herself to breathe, to act normal, to pretend she wasn’t falling for the one man she absolutely shouldn’t.

But then she stepped into her office.

And froze.

A vase sat in the center of her desk—full, bright, impossible to ignore. A note leaned against the glass, written in Brody’s unmistakable handwriting:

Last night was fun. Can’t wait to do it again.

Her smile was instant, uncontrollable, stretching across her face until her cheeks hurt. She pressed the note to her chest for a second, letting herself feel it—really feel it.

That’s when Lola walked in.

Lola didn’t even try to hide her gasp. She leaned over Emily’s shoulder, read the note, and squealed loud enough to echo down the hallway.

“Oh my god. You have been holding out on us. Did you sleep with him?”

Emily spun around, eyes wide. “What? NO! It’s not like that!”

Lola crossed her arms, unconvinced. “Really? Because the huge smile on your face says otherwise.”

Emily opened her mouth, closed it, then sighed. She couldn’t lie—not to Lola.

“Lola… I don’t know what to do. I really like him. And I want to see him again. And I know he’s our boss and if he wasn’t—” Her smile returned, soft and helpless. “—I wouldn’t even be questioning this.”

Lola’s expression softened, but worry lingered behind her eyes.

“Well… have your fun,” she said gently, “and then end it nicely so your job isn’t jeopardized. I love that you’re happy, Em. I just don’t want it to blow up in your face.”

Emily hugged her, holding on a little tighter than usual. “I know. I worry too. But the truth is… I really like him.”

Lola pulled back, searching her face. “What if you fall hard? It’ll hurt worse when this ends.”

Emily didn’t have an answer. Not one she wanted to say out loud.

Her phone vibrated.

Of course it was him.

Brody: Good morning. Hope you like the flowers. I had to get them for you.

Emily turned the screen toward Lola.

Lola’s eyes widened. “Oh, Emily… you’re in trouble.”

And Emily knew she was right.

Not the kind of trouble you run from.

The kind you fall into—headfirst, heart first, no matter how hard you try to stop yourself.

Emily stayed frozen for a moment, the phone still warm in her hand, the flowers bright on her desk, and Lola staring at her like she was watching a slow‑motion car crash she couldn’t stop.

The truth settled over Emily again—the kind you don’t want to admit out loud. This wasn’t a crush anymore. This was the kind of feeling you fall into headfirst, heart first, even when every logical part of you is screaming to slow down.

Lola nudged her shoulder gently. “So… are you going to tell the group? Because you know the second they see that smile, they’re going to know something’s up.”

Emily let out a breathy laugh, half‑nervous, half‑giddy. “Absolutely not. They’ll freak out. They’ll tell me to stop. They’ll tell me it’s a bad idea. And I’m not ready to hear any of that.”

Lola raised a brow. “So you’re keeping this between us?”

“For now,” Emily said softly. “Just until I figure out what this is… or what it could be.”

Before Lola could respond, Emily’s phone buzzed again.

She didn’t even try to hide her smile this time.

Brody: Good morning. Hope you like the flowers. I had to get them for you.

Emily’s heart did a little flip. She typed back quickly, fingers trembling with excitement.

Emily: I love the flowers. You really shouldn’t have.

The reply came almost instantly.

Brody: I know. But I wanted to.

Emily bit her lip, warmth blooming in her chest.

Emily: Thank you.

Lola watched the exchange happen in real time, her expression shifting from amused to resigned to something almost protective.

“Em…” she said quietly, “he’s not playing around.”

Emily nodded, eyes still on her phone. “I know.”

“And you’re already in deep.”

“I know,” she whispered again.

Lola sighed, but she pulled Emily into a side hug. “Okay. Then I’m here. Just… be careful. And don’t let him be the only one steering this.”

Emily leaned into her friend for a moment, grateful. “I won’t.”

But as her phone buzzed again—Brody sending a small, teasing follow‑up—she knew one thing with absolute certainty:

She wasn’t steering anything. She was already falling.