“Lockdown?” I ask.
She checks her phone. “Temporary. After events the system cycles and… oh perfect. No signal.”
She tries one doorway. Then another.
Nothing.
She exhales sharply, more rattled than annoyed.
“I don’t have time for this.”
I lean against the wall, watching her pace. “Seems like the universe disagrees.”
She turns and freezes when she realizes how close I am.
Close enough to feel the warmth radiating off her. Close enough to notice she smells like winter air, vanilla, and the kind of trouble I’d ruin a career for.
“Bryce,” she warns.
“Annabelle.”
“This… whatever this is… it can’t happen.”
I tilt my head. “Why?”
“You know why.”
“Rules?”
Her silence confirms it.
“Rules don’t change attraction.”.
Then she backs up. Not fast. Not dramatically. Just enough that her shoulders touch the wall.
“This is a mistake. We work together. My father is the owner. I just ended an engagement. I’m basically a mess.”
“Yeah, you may be a mess, but you’re a hot mess I want to taste and ruin slowly.”
Her eyes lock onto mine.
She doesn’t move.
So I do.
I grab the lapel of her blazer and pull her to me.
She gasps but my mouth is already on hers.
The kiss is instant wildfire. Messy. Hungry. Starving. Her hands slide to the back of my neck and she pulls me closer instead of pushing me away.
I deepen it. Hard. Slow. Focused entirely on learning the way she tastes when she stops pretending she doesn’t want me.
Her fingers dig into my shirt. My hand slides under her blouse, fingertips brushing bare skin. She shivers, and the sound she makes... quiet, breathy, and wrecked...nearly undoes me.
She lifts one leg and my body moves on instinct, pinning her gently, firmly, like she belongs there.
“God, Belle…” My voice isn’t steady. It isn’t controlled. It’s pure want.
