But when I open my mouth, the words that come out are, “There’s nothing unprofessional happening. I can handle this.”
Mark nods slowly. “All right. I’m counting on you.”
I leave his office feeling like I’ve just lied under oath.
The restaurant Carter chose is perfect. It’s small, tucked away, with dim lighting and booths that offer privacy without feeling romantic. I arrive first, sliding into a booth near the back, and pull out my phone to distract myself.
Another text from Carter:Running 5 minutes late. Order me a water?
Sure.
The waiter brings two waters, and I sip mine slowly, trying to ignore the way my pulse kicks every time the door opens.
Then he’s there.
Carter Storm, dressed in dark jeans and a fitted henley that does absolutely nothing to help my resolve. He spots me immediately, and the smile that crosses his face is warm, genuine, and entirely too dangerous.
“Hey,” he says, sliding into the booth across from me.
“Hey.”
For a moment, we just look at each other. The memory of last night hangs between us, thick and undeniable.
“So,” he says finally, breaking the silence. “That was…”
“Stupid,” I finish. “Reckless. Unprofessional.”
“I was going to say ‘intense,’ but sure, those work too.” He picks up his water, his fingers drumming against the glass. “For what it’s worth, I meant what I said. I don’t regret it.”
“You should.”
“But I don’t.” His gaze holds mine, steady and unwavering. “Do you?”
The honest answer is no. The smart answer is yes. I go with neither. “Mark saw a photo of us leaving the stadium. There’s speculation on social media.”
Carter’s jaw tightens. “Shit.”
“He asked if there was anything unprofessional happening between us.”
“What did you say?”
“I lied.” The admission comes out sharper than I intend. “I told him there wasn’t. Because if I’d told him the truth, that I almost kissed you in your office, that I’ve been thinking about it nonstop, that sitting here right now feels like the most dangerous thing I’ve ever done—he would’ve pulled me off this assignment.”
Carter leans back, studying me. “Would that be so bad?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” I press my palms to the table, grounding myself. “I’ve worked so hard to get here, Carter. To be taken seriously in this industry. If anyone finds out that I’m… that we’re…”
“That you’re what?” His voice is low, coaxing.
“That I’m falling for you,” I whisper, the words ripping out of me before I can stop them.
The silence that follows is deafening.
Carter’s eyes widen, just slightly, and then something shifts in his expression. Softens. “Olivia—”
“Don’t.” I hold up a hand. “Please. Let me finish. I’m falling for you, and it terrifies me. Because you’re not just some player I have to babysit. You’re… you’re Carter Storm. You’re complicated and vulnerable and kind in ways I didn’t expect. You make me laugh. You make me think. And when you look at me like you did last night, I forget every single reason why this is a terrible idea.”
He doesn’t speak, just watches me with an intensity that makes my skin heat.
