None of this was in the articles I’d read about him. His family was Irish, sure—but banking, not restaurants. This was new. And it felt important. Like I’d been handed a key to a room no one else knew existed.
Before I could respond, he pulled into the quiet lot where my car sat. He parked, shut off the engine, and turned toward me fully, his thumb brushing the edge of the bread-pudding box like it was the most natural buffer between us.
“Thank you for dinner,” I murmured.
“No,” he said, eyes steady on mine. “Thank you for saying yes.”
My breath hitched.
There it was, the unspoken thing between us. The thing neither of us could name.
He leaned in, close enough that heat ghosted over my skin but not close enough to cross the line. Not yet.
Then he exhaled sharply, popped his door open, and moved around to mine.
He opened it and offered his hand again, and for a split second I flashed to another hand, another night—my master opening a door, the leather mask hiding everything but the way he owned the air around him.
I stepped out and stumbled, catching myself against Sebastian’s chest. His arm wrapped around me instinctively. His other hand brushed a stray piece of hair from my cheek and my whole body lit up like he’d flipped a switch only he knew existed.
Was he going to kiss me?
“Get home safe, Mira,” he whispered.
And just like that, like he knew exactly how close I was to breaking, he stepped back and nodded toward my car.
What the hell had just happened?
I might’ve sat there for an hour trying to sort it all out, but it was obvious he wouldn’t leave until I did, so I drove home. When I locked my apartment door behind me, I plugged in my phone and tossed my bag aside.
It dinged immediately.
Micah: Found something. Talk to you in the morning. You home yet?
I smiled despite the knot twisting low in my stomach. Mr. Reid, Sebastian, had trusted me—with something personal. Something private. I doubted many people knew. Maybe Mr. Cross and Hale, since every article labeled the three of them thetech-world’s golden trio—meeting at some fancy private school before conquering college and then the industry together.
Yes, I’d done my research. Thoroughly. I’d wanted to work for the best, and Sentinel Tech was exactly that.
I blew out a breath and leaned back against my kitchen counter. My body was still buzzing from dinner, his hand at my back, the way he looked at me, like he saw past everything I hid. Was it pathetic that tonight was the closest thing I’d had to a date in a year? Probably. But I wasn’t delusional; I knew what tonight was. We’d both been running on fumes and needed food. That was all.
Except… it didn’t feel like just that.
My phone buzzed.
Bossman: I don’t usually let anyone at work see that side of me. I’d appreciate you keeping tonight between us.
I typed before I could overthink it.
Me: I’m good at keeping secrets.
The dots appeared instantly.
That alone made my pulse jump.
Bossman: Don’t sell yourself short. You’re good at a lot of things.
Before I could even absorb that, my email app chimed.
My heart stuttered. Nobody emailed my personal account. Except my mom on Sundays—andhim.
