Ashley’s POV
The building had gone quiet hours ago. Most of the lights were off, the hum of the city outside a faint whisper through the tinted windows. Only one office still glowed — ours.
Alan sat across from me, jacket off, sleeves rolled up, tie loosened just enough to make him look… dangerous. We were supposed to be finishing a proposal. Instead, we’d been stuck on the same paragraph for thirty minutes, pretending to work while pretending not to stare.
Every time I typed, I could feel his eyes on me.
He’d offer small comments — too casual, too soft — that made my pulse stumble.
“This part could use your touch,” he said once.
“My touch?” I’d asked.
He’d smiled, and that was the end of my focus.
Now, as the clock blinked past ten, I sighed and pushed the laptop away. “I think we
