“He’s into sports, too?” I asked.
“For sure,” Will said. “He’s got a knack for it. Soccer, baseball…you name it.”
Finally, we reached the master bedroom. Ridiculous, but my heart was pounding by the time we stepped inside.
The room was massive but almost completely bare, just a king-sized bed with plain white sheets, a thin grey comforter, and a large wall-mounted TV.
“I’ve never really decorated in here,” Will admitted. “It’s…functional, I guess.”
“Functional, yes,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “But it could be so much more. Some art on the walls, maybe an upholstered headboard, a rug to anchor the space.”
He nodded, watching me closely as I moved around the space, taking notes and mentally taking it all in. I felt his gaze, basking in its warmth, heating me from the inside while the guilt from the desire of it all weighed on my chest.
The bathroom was all marble countertops, a glass shower, and a deep soaking tub that looked like it had never been used.
As we walked back downstairs, I felt a small shiver of relief. We were done with the bedroom, and nothing untoward had happened. Was I also a little bit disappointed that it had not?
I asked if he had a budget in mind, and he shrugged. “Whatever,” he said, casually.
Then, less casually, he asked, “Are you hungry? I was thinking we could grab some lunch.”
“I’d love to,” I blurted out before catching myself. “But I should probably get back home before school pickup. You know how hard it is to get a spot.”
“Right. Another time, then,” he said.
He walked me to my car, and I turned to thank him. But he surprised me by leaning in for a hug. It wasn’t the kind of polite, distant hug you give a casual acquaintance, either. It was warm, lingering just a second too long. I felt his hand on my back, the faintest brush of his fingers.
When he pulled back, his eyes met mine, and I felt the air shift between us. It was as if the world had gone silent, leaving only the two of us in this charged, suspended moment.
I thought he might kiss me. I thought I might let him.
Then reality snapped back into place, and I took a step back, fumbling for my car keys. “Thanks again,” I said quickly, my voice higher than usual. “I’ll send you some ideas soon.”
“Take your time,” he said. His voice was calm and steady, like he wasn’t affected at all. But I knew he was. I could feel it in the air between us.
As I drove away, my hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. My thoughts were racing. The lines between professional and personal had blurred, and I wasn’t sure where this was going, or if I could stop it.
CHAPTER 15
ONE STEP CLOSER TO THE EDGE
NATALIE
After our way-too-long hug and my pent up emotions, I needed to decompress. The moment replayed in my head on a loop. The warmth of his arms and the pull of his gaze burned into my memory. I told myself I couldn’t let this go further. I needed to cut all communication with Will and find someone else to help him with his project. That would be the smart thing to do. The right thing. But no matter how much I tried to convince myself, I couldn’t bring myself to send that email. I couldn’t let go.
Instead, I buried myself in his house project. I spent hours creating a mood board for his house, obsessing over every detail. Every piece of furniture, every color swatch, every texture—it all felt like pieces of the puzzle that was Will. Designing again felt so natural, like I was reconnecting with a part of myself I hadn’t released in years.
When I finally sent the email, I expected to feel relief. It was carefully worded. Short. Professional. No room for misinterpretation.
Subject: Design Ideas
Good afternoon Will,
I’ve attached some initial inspiration images for your home. Let me know what you think and if there’s anything you’d like to change.
Best,
Natalie
