Scentless

Chapter 11

The next morning, I was determined to reset. To wipe the slate clean, so to speak, and focus on my work. I even went as far as bringing in muffins for the team, a peace offering for no particular reason except to distract myself from Damon’s smoldering gaze.

"Morning, Ava," Liam greeted me with his signature grin as I set the muffin tray on the communal counter. "What's the occasion?"

I shrugged, trying to keep things light. "Just felt like it. Figured we could all use a little sugar boost."

Liam reached for a muffin, his eyes twinkling. "You’re an angel."

Before I could respond, the door to Damon’s office swung open. He stepped out, his presence instantly commanding the room. He didn’t even look at the muffins; his eyes went straight to me. I froze, muffin tray in hand, as he approached.

“Ava, my office. Now,” he said, his voice clipped.

I hesitated, glancing at Liam, who raised his eyebrows in a silent question. With a quick, reassuring smile, I followed Damon, trying not to notice how his tailored suit hugged his broad shoulders. Or how his scent—woodsy and crisp—lingered in the air as I trailed behind him.

---

The moment I stepped into his office, Damon shut the door behind me. He leaned against it, his arms crossed, studying me with an intensity that made my pulse race.

“Muffins, Ava?” he said, his tone laced with something I couldn’t quite decipher. “Is this a new strategy to win over the team?”

I blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected question. “Excuse me?”

“You’re overcompensating,” he continued, pushing off the door and moving closer. “Trying to distract yourself from whatever’s going on between us.”

My jaw dropped. “I—what?”

He smirked, a rare and infuriating expression that sent a mix of irritation and something warmer coursing through me. “Don’t deny it, Ava. You’ve been avoiding me since last night.”

“I’m not avoiding anything,” I shot back, my cheeks heating. “You’re the one who keeps making everything... complicated.”

He raised an eyebrow, stepping even closer. “Complicated? Is that what you call it?”

“Yes,” I said firmly, though my voice wavered slightly. “You’re my boss, Damon. Whatever this is, it’s… inappropriate.”

His expression shifted, the smirk fading into something more serious. “You think I don’t know that?” he said softly. “You think I haven’t tried to keep my distance? But every time I do, Ava, you’re right there, making it impossible.”

My breath hitched, his words hitting me like a punch to the gut. For a moment, the room felt impossibly small, the air thick with unspoken words. I opened my mouth to respond, but a knock on the door interrupted us.

Damon’s jaw tightened, and he stepped back, his carefully constructed mask slipping back into place. “Come in,” he called, his voice cold and professional.

The door opened, and Liam’s head popped in. “Hey, sorry to interrupt, but we’ve got that meeting with the clients in ten.”

Damon nodded curtly. “I’ll be there.”

Liam’s gaze shifted to me, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. “You coming, Ava?”

“Yes,” I said quickly, grateful for the escape.

As I followed Liam out, I could feel Damon’s eyes on my back, the weight of his stare lingering long after the door closed behind us.

---

The meeting was uneventful, but I couldn’t focus. My mind kept drifting back to Damon’s words, to the way he’d looked at me—like I was the only thing that mattered. By the time lunch rolled around, I was desperate for some fresh air.

“Care to join me?” Liam asked, appearing at my desk with his easy smile. “I’m craving tacos.”

“Tacos sound great,” I said, grabbing my bag.

We headed out together, the crisp autumn air a welcome relief from the stifling tension of the office. Liam kept the conversation light, regaling me with a hilarious story about his dog’s latest antics. For the first time all day, I felt myself relax, laughing freely at his jokes.

But as we approached the taco stand, my laughter faded. Damon was there, leaning casually against the counter, his phone in one hand and a coffee cup in the other. His eyes met mine the moment we stepped into view, and I swore I saw his jaw clench.

“Well, this is unexpected,” Liam said cheerfully, completely oblivious to the tension crackling between Damon and me. “Didn’t peg you as a taco guy, boss.”

Damon’s lips quirked into a semblance of a smile, but his gaze remained fixed on me. “I’m full of surprises.”

Liam placed our order, leaving me and Damon standing awkwardly side by side. The silence was heavy, loaded with everything we weren’t saying.

“Are you following me now?” I asked, trying to inject some humor into the situation.

“Hardly,” he replied, his tone dry. “This is my usual spot.”

“Convenient,” I muttered, crossing my arms.

His eyes softened slightly, and for a moment, I thought he might smile. But then Liam returned, handing me my tacos and breaking the spell.

“Ready to grab a table?” Liam asked, oblivious to the charged atmosphere.

I nodded, eager to put some distance between myself and Damon. But as we walked away, I couldn’t resist glancing over my shoulder. Damon was still watching, his expression unreadable, but his eyes… his eyes burned with something I couldn’t name.

---

The rest of the week passed in a whirlwind of meetings and deadlines, but Damon’s presence was a constant distraction. He seemed to be everywhere—in the hallway, by the coffee machine, even passing by my desk more often than usual. Each time, our eyes would meet, and I’d feel that familiar jolt, like my body was attuned to him in ways I didn’t fully understand.

By Friday, I was at my wit’s end. So when Liam suggested happy hour after work, I jumped at the chance. A drink or two sounded like exactly what I needed to unwind.

The bar was loud and bustling, the perfect backdrop to drown out my overactive thoughts. Liam and I grabbed a table near the back, and he ordered a round of drinks, his easy charm making me laugh despite myself. But as the night wore on, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched.

When I turned, my heart skipped a beat. Damon was there, standing near the entrance, his gaze locked on me. He looked out of place in his perfectly tailored suit, but he didn’t seem to care. His eyes flicked to Liam, then back to me, and I saw it again—that unmistakable flash of jealousy.

Before I could process it, Damon was walking toward us, his strides purposeful. He reached our table and gave Liam a polite but dismissive nod.

“Ava, can I have a word?” he asked, his voice calm but firm.

Liam raised an eyebrow, glancing between us. “Should I be worried?”

“Not at all,” Damon replied smoothly. “It’s a work matter.”

I sighed, setting down my drink. “I’ll be back in a minute,” I told Liam, who gave me a questioning look but didn’t press further.

Damon led me outside, the cool evening air sharp against my skin. He turned to face me, his expression unreadable.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, crossing my arms.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he replied. “But I think we both know the answer.”

“Oh, do we?” I shot back, my frustration boiling over. “Because I’m starting to think you enjoy playing these games.”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might argue. But then he stepped closer, his eyes locking onto mine. “I’m not playing games, Ava,” he said quietly. “I’m trying to figure out how to stop wanting you when the rest of me refuse to cooperate"