I decide to stand and walk it off, because movement is good, right? Movement clears the mind. Movement distracts me from… I turn a corner and almost slam chest-first into him.
Jaxon.
He’s standing in the hallway talking to someone from corporate, but the second he sees me, his attention snaps away like the conversation wasn’t even happening.
His gaze drags over me, slow and intentional, like he’s checking for cracks.
I freeze.
He excuses himself from the corporate dude and steps toward me.
“Ruby,” he says softly.
I can’t breathe.
“Hi,” I manage, sounding suspiciously like someone who has forgotten how vowels work.
His eyes search mine. “You okay?”
I nod way too fast. “Yes. Totally. Absolutely. Fine. Great.”
“You’re lying again.”
“Please stop calling me a liar.”
He lowers his voice. “Then stop lying.”
I swear my legs almost buckle.
I clear my throat. “I need to… get back to work.”
His voice warms. “Then go.”
I start to move past him, but he speaks again.
“Ruby.”
I stop.
“Dinner,” he says.
My heart stops. “No.”
“Yes.”
“I can’t.”
I turn around. “We can’t.”
He steps closer, not touching, not inappropriate, just enough to tilt the world slightly off its axis.
“You’re scared,” he murmurs. “That’s fine. I can be patient.”
“I’m not scared..."
“You are.” His eyes soften. “But you’ll still come.”
My throat is sandpaper. “I will not.”
