Swipe Right, Wrong Number

Chapter 4

Friday arrived quicker than I had anticipated. I stood in front of my closet, mentally cursing the phrase "comfortable clothing." What did that even mean? I wasn't exactly the outdoorsy type, and the thought of showing up in anything too casual made me nervous. After a good ten minutes of internal debate, I settled on athletic leggings, a fitted tee, and a jacket that I hoped struck the perfect balance between sporty and not trying too hard.

As I slipped on my sneakers, I couldn't ignore the flutter of nerves dancing in my stomach. This was different from our usual meetings—there was no boardroom, no walls to hide behind. It was going to be just us, outside of the office, where the lines between professional and personal could easily blur. And if that wasn't enough to make me anxious, the subtle tension with Ethan that had been growing over the past few days certainly was.

I pulled into the parking lot of Adventure Zone, greeted by the sight of my colleagues already milling around. A few of them were chatting excitedly, clearly more comfortable with the idea of climbing ropes and navigating obstacle courses than I was. I stepped out of the car, slinging my bag over my shoulder as I joined the group. My eyes quickly scanned for Ethan, but he was nowhere to be seen—yet.

"Hey, Valehart!" Maddie, one of the marketing leads, waved me over, a wide grin on her face. "Ready for this?"

"Totally," I said, returning her smile with what I hoped was enthusiasm.

As we gathered near the entrance, Ethan finally appeared, and my heart did that now-familiar skip it had adopted whenever he was around. He was dressed in a black athletic jacket and track pants, looking way too effortlessly cool for a team-building activity. I tried not to stare, but it was hard to ignore the way the sunlight hit his face, showing the sharp angles of his jawline. He looked around, and when his gaze landed on me, he gave a small nod, acknowledging my presence in that quiet, unreadable way he always did.

"Alright, team!" Ethan’s voice cut through the chatter, drawing everyone’s attention. "Thanks for making it out today. I hope you're ready to get out of your comfort zones and have a little fun."

There was a collective murmur of agreement, though I noticed a few nervous glances around the group.

"We'll be breaking into smaller teams for the activities," Ethan continued. "So let’s get started and see who you’ll be paired up with."

He gestured toward one of the Adventure Zone employees, who began handing out colored wristbands. When I received mine—blue—I glanced around to see who else would be on my team. And then, because of course fate had a sense of humor, I spotted Ethan, who was also sporting the same shade of blue.

Our eyes met again, and there it was—the flicker of tension, that barely-there spark of something I couldn’t quite name. He didn’t smile this time, but there was a glint in his eyes, something that sent a shiver down my spine. It wasn’t exactly warm, but it wasn’t cold either. It was just... Ethan.

"Guess we're on the same team," I muttered to myself, though Maddie heard and gave me a teasing nudge.

"Better make sure you impress the boss," she whispered, winking as she moved off to her own group.

I shot her a playful glare, but deep down, her words hit a little too close to home.

The first challenge was a trust-building exercise—one of those clichéd, corporate icebreakers where one person is blindfolded, and the other has to guide them through a maze. It was all designed to build communication, trust, and teamwork, but all I could think about was how close I’d have to get to Ethan. The maze itself was a simple set of cones and ropes, but with the added twist of not being able to see, it felt far more daunting.

"Alright, Valehart," Ethan said, stepping up beside me as he handed me the blindfold. "Think you can trust me?"

His voice was low, teasing, but there was an edge of seriousness beneath it. My pulse quickened at the way he said my last name, with just enough familiarity to make it feel personal. I swallowed hard and forced a smile.

"I guess I don’t have much of a choice, do I?"

He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t respond, simply watching as I tied the blindfold over my eyes. The world went dark, and suddenly, I was hyper-aware of everything—the cool breeze, the faint sound of laughter from the other teams, and the feeling of Ethan’s presence beside me.

"Alright," his voice came from slightly behind me, closer than I expected. "I’ll guide you through. Take three steps forward."

I hesitated, feeling vulnerable in the darkness, but I obeyed, taking slow, tentative steps forward.

"Good," he said, his voice low and calm. "Now, two steps to the left. Watch your foot on that cone."

I followed his instructions, the sound of his voice the only thing I had to hold onto. His tone was smooth, confident, and controlled, the perfect balance of professional and something else. The tension between us buzzed in the air, unspoken but palpable. Every time he gave me a direction, I felt a strange mix of comfort and tension. I trusted him—more than I probably should.

At one point, he placed his hand on my arm to gently steer me away from a cone I almost stumbled into. His touch was brief, but it lingered on my skin long after he pulled away. My breath caught in my throat, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he felt it too—that pull, that invisible thread tightening between us.

"Almost there," he murmured, his voice lower now, almost intimate in the way it cut through the silence. "Just a few more steps."

When we finally reached the end of the maze, I untied the blindfold, blinking against the sudden rush of light. Ethan was standing in front of me, his expression unreadable but his eyes locked on mine. There was a brief pause, a heavy moment where the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of us.

"Good job," he said, his voice softer now, almost... warm.

I swallowed, trying to ignore the way my heart was racing. "Thanks," I managed, my voice quieter than I intended.

There was a beat of silence before he cleared his throat, stepping back. "Let’s see how the others are doing."

As he walked away, I exhaled slowly, trying to steady the swirl of emotions that had taken root. This was supposed to be a simple team-building exercise, but nothing felt simple anymore—not with him.

Later that afternoon, we regrouped for the final challenge of the day—an obstacle course that required both strength and coordination. As our team lined up, I could feel the tension simmering between Ethan and me, unspoken but ever-present. There were moments when his gaze lingered just a little too long, when our hands brushed, when his voice dipped low as he gave me directions.

But despite the tension—or maybe because of it—we worked well together, seamlessly coordinating as we climbed walls, balanced on beams, and navigated rope swings. It felt like we were in sync, an unspoken understanding passing between us with every challenge we faced.

When the day finally came to an end, the air was filled with laughter and relieved sighs as the team congratulated each other. People were peeling off to grab their bags and head home, but I stayed behind for a moment, catching my breath near the finish line. I was tired, sure, but there was something lingering in the air—something unfinished.

I was about to leave when I felt a presence behind me. I didn’t need to turn around to know it was Ethan. I could sense him—his calm energy, the way he filled the space without needing to say a word.

"You did well today," Ethan’s voice was soft, almost intimate in the way it broke the comfortable silence. "Really impressive."

I turned to face him, my heart doing that now-familiar skip as our eyes met. His expression was softer than I’d seen all day, and for a brief moment, the cool, composed mask he always wore seemed to slip.

"Thanks," I said, offering a small smile. "You weren’t so bad yourself. You know, for a boss."

He chuckled, the sound low and warm, and it sent a ripple of heat through me. "Is that so?"

"Yeah," I teased, stepping a little closer, surprising myself with the sudden confidence. "Maybe you’re not as stiff as you look in those suits after all."

Ethan smirked, his eyes flickering with something playful. "I’ll take that as a compliment."

We stood there for a moment, the air between us thick with unspoken words. The rest of the team had dispersed by now, leaving just the two of us under the fading afternoon sun. It was one of those moments where time seemed to slow down, where everything else faded into the background.

Without thinking, I reached out and brushed a stray leaf off his shoulder, the movement simple but surprisingly intimate. His eyes followed my hand, and for a brief second, I thought I saw a flicker of something more in his gaze—something tender.

"Thanks," he murmured, his voice lower now, softer.

Our hands brushed as I pulled away, and instead of retreating, his fingers lingered against mine, the contact sending a shiver up my spine. It was subtle, barely a touch, but it was enough to make my pulse quicken.

"Are you always this competitive?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood but unable to ignore the electricity sparking between us.

"Only when it matters," he said, his voice holding a weight that made my breath catch.

We stood there, eyes locked, the world around us fading into a quiet hum. I didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to navigate this new territory we were suddenly in. But the tension between us was undeniable, and for the first time, I wasn’t sure I wanted to resist it.

"Well, I guess we make a pretty good team," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

Ethan smiled, a rare, genuine smile that softened the sharp edges of his face. "Yeah, we do."

Another pause, heavier this time. It felt like we were on the edge of something, like the air between us was holding its breath, waiting for one of us to make a move.

"I should probably go," I said reluctantly, though I didn’t want to.

"Yeah," he replied, but his tone suggested he wasn’t in any hurry to leave either.

As I turned to walk away, I felt his hand gently catch my wrist, stopping me in my tracks. I glanced back at him, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Valehart," he said, his voice soft but serious. "I meant what I said earlier. I’m counting on you. Not just for the project. For everything."

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. His words hung in the air, loaded with meaning, and for a moment, I felt like I could see past the guarded, professional exterior he always wore. There was something real beneath it, something vulnerable. Something I hadn’t expected.

His hand slid from my wrist to my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. It was a small gesture, but it felt like so much more—like an unspoken promise, a quiet acknowledgment of the connection between us.

"Goodnight, Emma," he said, his voice low and warm.

"Goodnight, Ethan," I replied, my heart fluttering as I reluctantly pulled my hand from his.

As I walked away, I could still feel the warmth of his touch lingering on my skin, the weight of his words echoing in my mind.