BAIT🥹

TOO CLOSE TO IGNORE

The ride home that night felt different.

Sophia sat quietly in the passenger seat, her fingers tangled together on her lap, trying to keep them still. Her heart raced, thumping loud enough that she was almost certain Hash could hear it. The city lights reflected in the windshield, flickering across his sharp features. The car moved steadily, silently, like a ship cutting through calm waters—but inside, the air was taut, electric.

Hash drove in perfect control, hands steady on the wheel, eyes forward, his expression unreadable as always. But Sophia could feel the tension, subtle, almost imperceptible to anyone else. It wasn’t anger. Not irritation. Not impatience.

Something warmer. Something confusing.

She swallowed hard, throat suddenly dry, words caught somewhere between caution and desire.

“Sir… thank you,” she whispered, the words barely louder than the hum of the engine.

He didn’t answer immediately. Not with words. Instead, he stared through the windshield, jaw tight, lips pressed together like he was battling something inside. The silence stretched, almost unbearably, and Sophia felt her pulse quicken, her chest constricting with anticipation and fear.

“You’re different,” he said quietly, his voice cutting through the quiet hum of the car.

Her heart jumped. She blinked, unsure she had heard him correctly.

“Different… how?” she asked, voice small, cautious.

Finally, his eyes met hers. And for the first time, Sophia saw something she had never seen before—something softer. Vulnerable, almost. Not warmth entirely, but a momentary letting down of the walls he always carried like armor.

“You don’t fear me like the others,” he said slowly, carefully. “You talk to me normally. You argue with me sometimes. And… you don’t pretend.”

Sophia didn’t know what to say. Her chest tightened with something she didn’t understand. Surprise, flattery, and a strange rush of warmth mixed inside her, twisting her stomach.

“I’m not used to that,” Hash added, voice low, barely above a murmur, like he was admitting something dangerous, something private.

Sophia felt her chest constrict further. She hadn’t planned for her heart to respond like this. She hadn’t intended for it to beat this fast, for thoughts of him to linger in her mind long after leaving the office. But… she couldn’t stop it.

“Sir…” she whispered again, soft and tentative. Her lips barely moved, and yet it felt like the words carried a weight she hadn’t intended. She looked down, staring at her fingers folded tightly in her lap, afraid to meet his gaze again.

Her breath caught. She felt exposed. Vulnerable. Alive.

“Thank you so much… for everything,” she managed, voice trembling slightly.

And then, just as the words left her lips, the gate to her compound creaked open. Adam stepped out, his presence loud in contrast to the quiet intimacy of the car.

“Mom!” Sloane’s tiny voice rang from inside, high and bright.

Instantly, Hash’s expression shifted. The softness, the momentary vulnerability, the attention he had given her—all of it vanished, replaced by the familiar mask of control. Cold. Reserved. Professional. Unreadable.

Sophia opened the car door quickly, her heart twisting inside her. She stepped onto the pavement, feeling her legs weak, her chest still pounding.

“Goodnight, sir,” she said softly, voice almost breaking as she forced herself to step back from the edge of something she didn’t fully understand.

“Goodnight… Sophia,” he replied, voice measured, polite—but distant now.

The engine roared softly, and she watched as the sleek car glided away, disappearing into the night, leaving only the faint echo of its tires against the asphalt. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she tried to breathe normally, trying to calm the storm inside her.

Adam approached slowly, eyebrows raised, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

“Sophia,” he said, voice gentle but amused, “that man definitely likes you.”

Sophia touched her chest, fingers trembling slightly over her heart, still racing, still wild. She didn’t answer immediately, unsure how to explain the fluttering, confusing, dangerous pull she felt toward Hash.

“I… I don’t know,” she whispered finally, unsure even to herself.

But she did. She knew.

Her heart was alive, and it had noticed Hash in a way her mind tried to ignore.

They were getting closer.

Dangerously close.

She felt the faint warmth of the evening air brush her skin as Adam ushered Sloane toward her. The little girl’s laughter echoed, a comforting anchor pulling Sophia back from the dizzying swirl of emotions Hash had stirred in her. Yet even as she crouched to hug Sloane, the memory of Hash’s gaze, the intimacy of his words, lingered in her chest like a soft burn.

Sophia looked at Adam, forcing herself to smile through the racing heartbeat. “I’m fine,” she said, more to herself than him.

Adam didn’t look convinced, but he let it go, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder. “Just… be careful,” he said softly. “That man isn’t like the others. He doesn’t let people in easily.”

Sophia nodded, but her mind raced. She had felt it tonight—the weight of his attention, the subtle shift in his tone, the way he had let her see a fragment of something private, something he usually kept locked away.

It was dangerous.

Exhilarating.

And she couldn’t stop thinking about it.

As she closed the gate behind them and stepped inside the compound, she felt the evening stretch around her like a cocoon. Somewhere in the shadows, the city hummed and flickered with life—but she felt suspended, caught between two worlds. The safety of her home. The storm of emotions Hash had left in her chest.

Sloane tugged at her hand. “Mommy, can we have cookies?”

Sophia smiled, the warmth of her daughter pulling her fully back. “Of course, love. Let’s bake some.”

And yet, even as flour dusted her hands and the oven warmed the kitchen, the memory of Hash’s eyes lingered, haunting the edges of her mind. His attention, his soft words, the way he had let her glimpse something beneath the surface—it was a spark she couldn’t ignore.

Something was coming. She could feel it.

Something that would change everything.

Sophia inhaled deeply, holding Sloane close, feeling her heartbeat steady against her own. But beneath that steady rhythm, another pulse ran faster, louder, undeniable.

Hash.

The man she couldn’t ignore.

The man who had made her feel seen—dangerously, confusingly, unbearably alive.

And she knew, deep down, that their story had only just begun.