-POV Derby
The elevator doors slid shut behind us with a soft ding that felt louder than it should have.
We were alone — just the two of us in the private car that led straight to the executive floor — but the air between us was no longer the careful, calculated space we used to maintain. Jordan stood close, too close for a boss and his junior analyst, his hand resting at the small of my back like it belonged there. His thumb traced a slow, absent circle against the fabric of my blouse, the same gentle rhythm he had used on my skin this morning when he held me on the couch and told me this wasn’t nothing anymore.
I should have stepped away.
I should have created at least an arm’s length of distance, the way we used to do in public — polite nods, professional smiles, eyes that never lin
