More Than My Boss

Too Close

By late afternoon, the office was almost empty.

Katie had left for an early dinner with friends, her laughter echoing faintly down the hall as she disappeared around the corner. The quiet that followed felt heavy, charged, and… wrong.

I tried to focus on my screen, scrolling through emails like they could erase the tension from earlier. But it didn’t work. Not at all.

And then—of course—he appeared.

“Abby.”

I froze, fingers hovering over the keyboard.

He leaned casually against the edge of my desk, arms crossed, watching me like he’d been there all along. The air between us felt suddenly smaller, hotter.

“Do you have a minute?” he asked, voice low.

I swallowed, forcing a nod. “Sure.”

He gestured toward the conference room. “Let’s go over the final edits for tomorrow’s pitch. It’ll be easier there.”

I hesitated. Alone with him? In a small room? For an hour?

“Yes, okay,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

The walk down the hall was unbearable. Every step, my chest tightened, my pulse quickened. He stayed close enough that I could feel his shoulder brush mine.

We entered the conference room, and he set his laptop on the table. I pulled out my tablet, placing it beside his.

“Let’s start with the client feedback,” he said. “Phase one adjustments.”

I nodded, but I couldn’t stop noticing how close he was standing. His presence filled the space, overwhelming in the most subtle way.

I focused on the numbers, the slides, anything—just to avoid looking at him.

“Abby,” he said suddenly, softer this time.

I froze.

“Yes?”

“Do you ever stop?”

I blinked. “Stop…?”

He leaned slightly over the table, eyes darkening, serious. “Pushing yourself so hard. Covering everything. Making sure everyone else looks good. Even me.”

My stomach twisted. Because… he saw me. Really saw me.

I shook my head, turning back to my tablet. “It’s my job.”

“It’s more than that,” he said. His voice barely above a whisper, but the words landed heavier than anything in the office.

I didn’t reply. I couldn’t.

He moved just a little closer.

Not enough to touch. Not yet. But enough that I felt it—the magnetic pull I couldn’t ignore.

The silence stretched. Long. Uncomfortable. Dangerous.

Then his hand brushed mine.

Lightly. Almost accidental.

But my pulse betrayed me anyway.

“I—I should…” I stammered, pulling slightly back.

He didn’t pull away immediately. His gaze lingered. Questioning. Searching. Something more than professional.

“I shouldn’t…” I tried again. My voice was just a whisper this time.

“Maybe not,” he said, his voice soft, careful.

We both froze. Not moving. Not speaking. Just standing there, inches apart, the air between us taut with something neither of us wanted to admit.

And then the sound of heels clicking in the hallway startled us both.

Katie.

Her voice floated faintly through the door. “Abby? Ethan? You two almost ready? Dinner’s waiting?”

The moment shattered.

Ethan stepped back immediately, straightening as if nothing had happened. His hand dropped from mine. His expression snapped back to neutral.

I looked down at my tablet, pretending to focus on slides. My heart was pounding. My chest felt tight.

Katie’s voice faded as she left again.

We didn’t speak.

We didn’t look at each other.

And yet—everything had changed.

Because now, I knew it wasn’t accidental.

And neither did he.