The Innocent

The Things I Shouldn’t Want

The next morning, I stood in front of my mirror for far too long.

I had already changed my outfit twice.

Three times, actually.

The first dress felt too formal.

The second made me look like I was trying too hard.

The third was perfectly normal.

Which was exactly why I was now staring at myself, wondering if it looked too normal.

I sighed.

“This is ridiculous.”

I wasn't dressing for Daniel.

I was going to work.

That was all.

I repeated it in my head as I adjusted the collar of my blouse.

I was going to work.

I wasn't expecting anything.

I wasn't hoping to see him.

I wasn't wondering whether he'd notice me.

And I certainly wasn't replaying the thoughts I'd had about him the night before.

Absolutely not.

I grabbed my bag.

Then stopped.

I looked at myself one last time.

My hair was down today.

I normally kept it tied back at work, but this morning I'd let it fall over my shoulders.

I wasn't sure why.

Maybe because I liked it that way.

Maybe because I wanted to feel pretty.

Maybe because a tiny, reckless part of me wondered what Daniel would think.

I shook my head.

“You are losing your mind.”

I left.

By the time I reached the office, I'd almost convinced myself that everything was normal.

Almost.

Then the elevator doors opened.

And there he was.

Daniel.

He was standing several feet away, speaking to one of the senior managers.

My heart reacted before my brain could.

One beat.

Two.

Then suddenly, it felt like my entire body had become aware of him.

He was wearing a dark suit today. His tie was slightly loosened, and his sleeves fitted perfectly around his arms.

I hated that I noticed.

I hated even more that I liked what I saw.

As though sensing my presence, he looked up.

Our eyes met.

For a second, neither of us looked away.

His gaze moved briefly over me.

Not disrespectfully.

Not obviously.

Just enough for me to notice.

His eyes returned to mine.

And there it was.

That tiny change in his expression.

Something I couldn't quite name.

Something that made my stomach tighten.

“Good morning, Ariana.”

His voice sounded different when he said my name.

Or maybe I was simply listening differently now.

“Good morning.”

He smiled.

A real smile.

Small.

But enough to make my pulse jump.

“You look nice today.”

I almost forgot how to breathe.

“Thank you.”

He held my gaze for another moment before walking away.

Just like that.

I stood there, staring after him.

My cheeks were warm.

My heart was racing.

And the worst part?

I was smiling.

I quickly turned toward my desk before anyone could notice.

This was dangerous.

Not because Daniel had done anything wrong.

He hadn't.

The danger was me.

I knew myself.

I knew how easily a little attention could become something bigger inside my head.

So I buried myself in work.

Emails.

Schedules.

Phone calls.

Documents.

Anything that kept my mind occupied.

It worked.

For almost two hours.

Then Daniel appeared beside my desk.

“Do you have a minute?”

I looked up.

“Yes.”

He placed a folder on my desk.

“I need these documents organized before this afternoon.”

“Of course.”

He didn't leave.

I glanced up at him.

“Is there anything else?”

His lips curved slightly.

“No.”

He paused.

“I just wanted to make sure you weren't avoiding me.”

My fingers stopped moving.

“What?”

He laughed softly.

“You've been unusually quiet.”

“I’m working.”

“I know.”

There was something about the way he said it.

Something almost teasing.

I looked down at the folder.

“I have a lot to do.”

“So do I.”

“Then why are you still standing here?”

The words escaped before I could stop them.

His eyebrows lifted.

For a second, I thought I'd gone too far.

Then he smiled.

“There she is.”

I frowned.

“Who?”

“The woman who apparently has a personality underneath all that professionalism.”

I laughed despite myself.

“I have a personality.”

“I was beginning to wonder.”

I looked at him.

Really looked at him.

And for the first time, I noticed how close he was standing.

Not close enough to be inappropriate.

Just close enough for me to notice the faint scent of his cologne.

Warm.

Clean.

Expensive.

My thoughts wandered.

Dangerously.

I imagined that scent closer.

Much closer.

My pulse quickened.

Daniel's eyes narrowed slightly.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

“You're blushing.”

“I am not.”

“You are.”

I looked away.

He laughed.

That laugh.

I hated how much I liked it.

“Fine,” I whispered.

“Fine what?”

“I’m blushing.”

He smiled.

“I like it.”

My head snapped back toward him.

He seemed completely calm.

Like he hadn't just sent my imagination spiraling.

“What?”

“I said I like it.”

His eyes stayed on mine.

I didn't know what to say.

So I looked away.

He leaned slightly closer.

Not enough to touch me.

But enough that his voice dropped.

“You don't have to be nervous around me.”

“I’m not nervous.”

“You're lying.”

“Maybe.”

His smile deepened.

“Good.”

“Why is that good?”

“Because it means I'm not the only one feeling something.”

My heart stopped.

Or maybe it simply forgot how to behave.

I stared at him.

He stared back.

For one dangerous second, I imagined what would happen if neither of us cared about the office around us.

If he reached across my desk.

If his fingers touched mine.

If he pulled me closer.

If his lips—

I stopped myself.

Daniel straightened.

“I'll see you later.”

Then he walked away.

I stared at the folder in front of me.

I couldn't read a single word.

I'm not the only one feeling something.

I repeated the sentence in my head.

Again.

And again.

By lunchtime, I'd accomplished almost nothing.

I sat by the window with my food untouched, staring at the city below.

Daniel liked me.

Or at least...

He was attracted to me.

The thought sent a warm shiver through me.

It had been so long since I'd allowed myself to feel desired.

Ethan had once made me feel that way.

In the beginning.

Before everything became complicated.

Before love became something I had to earn.

Before I started questioning whether I was enough.

But Daniel was different.

At least, he seemed different.

And perhaps that was what frightened me.

Because I could already feel myself wanting more.

Not love.

Not yet.

Something simpler.

His attention.

His touch.

His lips.

I closed my eyes.

Immediately, my imagination took over.

I pictured the two of us somewhere outside the office.

Somewhere private.

Daniel standing in front of me.

No desk between us.

No professional distance.

His hand slowly reaching for mine.

His thumb brushing across my knuckles.

I'd look up at him.

He'd smile.

And I'd know.

That look would tell me everything.

I imagined him stepping closer.

My back against a wall.

His hand beside my head.

His face inches from mine.

“You're thinking too much,” he'd whisper.

“I always think too much.”

“Then stop.”

“How?”

He'd move closer.

His lips would hover just above mine.

“Like this.”

The kiss in my imagination would be slow.

Almost unbearably slow.

A question rather than a demand.

And I'd answer by closing the distance.

My hands would find his shoulders.

His arms would wrap around my waist.

I'd feel his warmth against me.

And for once, I wouldn't be thinking about tomorrow.

Or yesterday.

Or whether it would end.

I'd simply be there.

Feeling.

Wanting.

Being wanted.

I opened my eyes.

My breathing had changed.

I looked around quickly.

No one was paying attention to me.

Thank God.

I took a sip of water.

This was getting ridiculous.

But instead of feeling ashamed, I felt something else.

Alive.

That was the word.

Alive.

I had spent so long trying not to feel anything that I'd forgotten how intoxicating desire could be.

Not love.

Not attachment.

Just desire.

The simple, dangerous knowledge that someone could make my body react before my heart had time to catch up.

And Daniel was doing exactly that.

That afternoon, I was organizing files when Daniel returned to my desk.

“Are you free after work?”

I looked up.

“For what?”

“Dinner.”

My heart jumped.

“Dinner?”

“Yes.”

“With you?”

He smiled.

“I was hoping you'd say yes without sounding so surprised.”

I laughed nervously.

“I didn't know you were asking me out.”

“I am now.”

My stomach fluttered.

I stared at him.

“What kind of dinner?”

He tilted his head.

“Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because if it's a date, I need to know.”

“And if it isn't?”

“Then I don't need to panic.”

He smiled.

“Would it make you feel better if I told you it's a date?”

I swallowed.

“Yes.”

“Then it's a date.”

My heart began pounding.

I looked down at my desk.

“I haven't been on a date in a long time.”

His expression softened.

“Then we'll take it slowly.”

Those words shouldn't have affected me as much as they did.

But they did.

Because I'd spent years with someone who made me feel like I was always asking for too much.

And now this man was telling me there was no rush.

No pressure.

Just slowly.

“Okay,” I whispered.

“Okay?”

I looked up.

“Okay.”

His smile was warm.

“I'll pick you up at seven.”

I watched him walk away.

Seven o'clock.

A date.

With Daniel.

I should have been terrified.

Instead, I was excited.

And that frightened me more.

For the first time in years, I wasn't thinking about what I had lost.

I was thinking about what might come next.

And somehow, that felt even more dangerous.