“Do you?”
“Not the same way. But I understand building walls.” I lean against my desk. “I’ve always been Trevor’s little sister. That’s my identity to most people. Not Bailey, the designer. Not Bailey the animator. Just Trevor’s sister, who’s not quite as smart, accomplished, or important.”
“That’s not true.”
“It’s what people think. My parents love me, but Trevor is the golden child who saves lives. I make pretty pictures for a living.”
“You create worlds,” he corrects. “You take ideas and make them visual. That’s no less important than medicine.”
The certainty in his voice startles me. “You really believe that?”
“I really do. And anyone who can’t see your value isn’t looking hard enough.”
The words land deep.
You’re brilliant, Bailey. Not in spite of Trevor or compared to Trevor. Just on your own merit.”
A knot I didn’t know I was carrying loosens in my chest.
“Thank you.”
“I’m just telling the truth.”
We fall into silence. It’s not awkward or tense, just warm. He lingers by my desk, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off him.
“You’re unlike anyone I’ve worked with before,” he murmurs.
“Is that good or bad?”
“It’s terrifying.”
“Why?”
“Because you make me want things I’ve convinced myself I don’t need.”
My breath catches. “Like what?”
“Connection.” He’s looking at me with an intensity that makes my skin prickle. “You.”
Time pauses between us. I should step back and remind him we have boundaries. Instead, I stay exactly where I am, watching helplessly as he reaches for my sketchpad on the desk and not flinching even as his fingertips brush mine.
Our eyes lock. I can feel my pulse in my throat. My breath is coming faster, and I can see his pupils dilate in response.
He could kiss me again. I could let him. We could pretend the boundaries don’t exist, but that would change everything.
I pull my hand back first, breaking the spell.
“I should finish this,” I whisper.
He nods but doesn’t look away. “You should.”
“Daniel—”
“I know. I’m going.” But he doesn’t go, just stands there looking at me like he’s memorizing my face. “Goodnight, Bailey.”
“Goodnight.”
He finally walks away, his footsteps echoing across the empty office. Once alone, I take a deep breath and sink into my chair, my heart racing.
