Xavier's POV
I knew she was trying to avoid me all day.
It wasn't obvious—not to anyone else. She still moved through the office like she always did. Professional. Composed. Focused.
But I saw it.
The way her eyes never quite lingered when I passed by.
The way she always seemed to have somewhere else to be.
The way she chose distance… carefully.
And I let her.
Or at least, I tried to.
But pretending it didn't get to me?
That was impossible.
"Ah…" I sighed under my breath, leaning back in my chair, running a hand over my face.
Because no matter how much I tried to stay in control, last night wouldn't leave me alone.
Don't get me out then.
That line replayed more times than I could count.
And everything that came after it—
Her honesty.
Her hesitation.
Her fear.
It stayed.
Deeper than it should have.
Later that day, a knock came on my door.
I didn't even need to check.
"Khloe."
Of course it was her.
The Johnson file. An excuse. A reason.
She would come—whether she wanted to or not.
"Come in," I said.
And she did.
I stared at her for a while. Not professionally. Not casually.
Just… looked.
Taking in the way she held herself, the way her expression stayed controlled even when I knew she wasn't fully unaffected.
She stepped in, closing the door behind her.
We got to work.
Or at least, we pretended to.
The Johnson file sat between us, open, detailed, important—
But neither of us was fully there.
Our words were correct. Structured. Necessary.
But everything underneath?
Unspoken.
Heavy.
And then, when we were done—
"I was thinking… maybe we could have dinner tonight."
I watched her closely.
She was thinking—I knew. Like always. Weighing it.
Can she at least let me be there for her?
She hesitated.
Of course she did.
I could practically see the thoughts moving behind her eyes.
"Okay."
I blinked slightly.
I wasn't expecting that. Not so easily.
A small smile tugged at my lips.
"Good," I said. "I'll see you then."
"Yeah… I'll see you."
"I'll see you," I repeated.
And she left.
I took in her scent.
Her presence was everywhere—in my mind, my chest, my thoughts, my patience… my soul, to say a few.
"She's everywhere," I muttered under my breath.
I couldn't get her out.
Not yet. Not now. Not ever.
I stood up, grabbed my phone, and walked out of the office.
If I was doing this—
I was doing it right.
I dialed the manager of an exquisite Italian restaurant I trusted.
Not just any place.
The kind of place that spoke without trying too hard.
"Good afternoon. I need a reservation. Two. Tonight."
A pause.
"Yes. Make it private."
Another pause.
"6:30 works."
I ended the call, slipping my phone back into my pocket.
I'll be seeing her again.
My attraction. My distraction.
By 6 p.m., I was done for the day—or at least done pretending I could focus.
I packed my laptop, picked up my bag, and stepped out while on a call—
And there she was.
Walking out at the same time.
Of course.
She gave me a small nod. Professional. Controlled.
I returned it.
Same energy. Same distance.
We walked toward the elevator together.
The silence in there was loud. Deafening.
The kind that pressed. That crawled under my skin.
Well… the one next to me was already on my skin.
"Ahh…" I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.
The elevator dinged. Ground floor.
I stepped out, glancing back. She followed.
Of course she did.
I had already handled her ride.
Her driver wouldn't be coming tonight.
I walked to my car, opened the passenger door, and gestured.
She paused for a second.
Then got in.
Good girl.
The thought slipped in, and I exhaled quietly before walking around to my side.
This was going to be a long dinner…
But I was up for it.
The drive wasn't loud.
But it wasn't silent either.
Something in the air—unsettled. Unspoken.
Every now and then, I glanced at her.
Composed.
But not untouched.
I could tell.
We pulled up.
I stepped out, opened her door again, and held out my hand.
Routine. Respect. Control.
She took it.
And that simple contact—
Did more than it should have.
Her hand was warm. Soft. Present.
I let it linger a second longer before guiding her out.
We were greeted at the entrance. I handed my keys to the valet without breaking focus.
Inside, the waiter led us to our table.
Khloe glanced around—and I saw it.
That look.
Curiosity. Admiration. Interest.
And somehow… seeing her take it all in made the place feel better.
"This is a nice place," she said, her eyes still scanning the interior.
Not looking at me.
I didn't like that.
"Yeah, it is," I replied. "If you think this is nice, I'd love to show you more. This is only one of many."
Cocky?
Maybe.
But it worked.
Because that got her attention.
"Okay."
Just okay.
I'll take it.
We ordered. The waiter came, took the menus, and left.
Now—
No distractions.
Just me and her.
It's just me and you, sweetie.
"Hmm." I cleared my throat, drawing her gaze back to my face—where it belonged.
"So… first time eating in a place like this?" I asked, a faint smirk forming. "I can't ignore the fact that you keep looking around… it's cute."
She froze for a second.
Caught.
"Well… no. I've been to others. Just not as classy as this. And thanks."
I raised a brow.
"For the compliment," she added quickly.
A small chuckle escaped me.
Then—
"I don't regret kissing you the other night at the office."
Straight. Direct.
No hesitation.
Bad timing—she was drinking wine.
The food arrived.
Perfect interruption.
But I didn't take my eyes off her.
She didn't respond immediately.
Just stared at me, like she was trying to find something on my face.
Well… look hard, baby…
Because this face can't get much sleep because of you invading his tho—
"Me too."
My thoughts stopped.
I hadn't expected that.
Not from her.
Not like that.
Something tightened in my chest.
Something real.
"I'll do it again… if you let me too," I said quietly.
Not a joke.
Not a tease.
Then I picked up my fork and started eating like I hadn't just shifted the entire night.
But inside?
I was far from unaffected.
Because every word from her—
Every reaction—
Every look—
Was pulling me closer to a line I knew I shouldn't cross.
And the worst part?
I wasn't sure I wanted to stop anymore.