“Is everything okay?” Jade asked, concern etching her face. “Did something happen?”
“I’m fine. I just…needed to see you.”
Jade’s expression morphed into something more complex. She stepped back from the doorway. “Come in.”
The apartment was small and warmly lit, still bearing signs of a recent move-in: a stack of boxes in the corner and books waiting to be shelved. Plants thrived on almost every surface, and the space smelled faintly of coffee and something herbal.
They stood in the living room, neither quite sure what to do with their hands.
“Is this about the session?” Jade asked, and Maddox could hear the therapist in her voice. “Because if you’re feeling overwhelmed after what we talked about?—”
“It’s not about the session.” Maddox cut her off, needing to say it clearly. “I mean, yes, I shared something major today, and I’m grateful for how you handled it. But that’s not why I’m here.”
Jade’s throat moved as she swallowed. “Then why are you here?”
“Because I can’t stop thinking about you.” The words came out blunt and graceless but honest. “Because of the coffee shop,the way you looked at me and I looked at you, and we both knew something was happening…”
“Maddox—”
“I know what you’re going to say. That I’m vulnerable right now and today was intense and some therapy speak.” Maddox took a breath, holding Jade’s gaze. “But I’ve been thinking about this for weeks. Since before I could admit this to myself. This isn’t about today.”
Jade’s hands were clasped in front of her, knuckles blanched. “We need to be careful. Your therapy?—”
“Is separate from this.” Maddox took a step closer, then stopped, leaving space between them. “Unless you want to tell me I’m wrong, that the moment was nothing and you haven’t felt this too.”
The silence stretched thin and taut. Jade’s expression was conflicted, professional responsibility warring with something else.
“I have felt it,” she said finally. “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t.”
A knot in Maddox’s chest loosened. “So I’m not imagining things.”
“No.” Jade’s voice was barely audible. “You’re not.”
“Then what are we doing?”
“I don’t know.” Jade laughed, short and nervous. “I’m supposed to be the one with boundaries and ethics.”
“Do you want me to leave?” Maddox asked and meant it. If Jade said yes, she’d walk out the door and they’d pretend this conversation never happened.
But Jade shook her head. “No. That’s the problem. I don’t want you to leave.”
The admission hung between them, vulnerable and undeniable. Maddox could see Jade’s pulse jumping in her throat and feel her own heartbeat too fast in her chest.
“I’m terrified,” Maddox said. “Of this, of wanting something, of needing someone.”
“Me too.” Jade’s smile was small and shaky. “Terrified.”
“But?”
“But I’m tired of pretending I’m not.” Jade took a breath and squared her shoulders like she was making a decision that couldn’t be unmade. “I’m tired of being responsible and professional when all I can think about is?—”
She didn’t finish the sentence. Maddox closed the distance between them. The kiss was tentative at first, a question more than a statement. Jade’s lips were soft and warm, and when her hands came up to rest against Maddox’s shoulders, the touch sent electricity straight through her.
Maddox pulled back just far enough to meet Jade’s eyes. “Is this okay?”
“Yes,” Jade breathed. “Yes.”
This time when they kissed, there was nothing tentative about it, Jade’s fingers curled into the fabric of Maddox’s shirt, pulling her closer. When they broke apart again, both breathing hard, Jade’s expression was dazed and wanting and a little scared.
