The next morning, Ethan couldn't focus. Lena's smirk kept replaying in his mind. He hated that he was obsessed. He hated that he wanted her. He hated that he needed her approval.
By noon, she appeared outside his office again, leaning casually against the doorframe.
"Still brooding?" she asked, teasing.
"Yes," he admitted, his voice gruff, betraying him.
"Over me?" she said, tilting her head.
Ethan's chest tightened. He wanted to deny it, to protect himself. But the truth burned hotter than his pride. "Maybe," he said, walking past her, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off him.
The tension between them was almost physical. Every glance, every word, every brush of skin against skin made the office feel like a pressure cooker. And neither of them wanted to step back.