JASPER
The door buzzerwent for the third time, the annoying sound lasting longer, as if someone had left their finger on it.
“Alright, I’m coming,” I called as I tightened the towel around my waist, trying not to let my wet feet slip on the hardwood floor as I hurried from the bathroom to the front door. The buzzer sounded again.
“Oh, my god,” I cried. “Give me a fucking second.” I wrenched open the door to yell at whoever was pissing me off this early in the morning, when I had the world’s worst jetlag, having only been back from Ecuador for three days.
I’d taken the coward’s way out and left without saying a word; the image of Travis naked and my reaction to him burned into my memory. My shame overshadowed our friendship and made it impossible to face him after what I’d done. I walked away from a man who’d been my friend for years because I was terrified. I just couldn’t work out exactly what I was more scared of—how I felt after I came watching my naked best friend sleep or how I felt now I was away from him. I didn’t think it was possible to feel more lonely than I had before, but this… this was as if I was grieving his loss, and none of it made any sense.
A cough snapped my attention back to the stranger in front of me. There was a man, well, I say man, but his youthful face and lithe, small body made me wonder just how old he was. Dressed in something that looked like a corset and a waistcoat had a baby, his narrow waist was nipped in, which automatically drew my eyes downwards to the tight, cropped trousers he wore, along with black loafers.
He coughed again, and my eyes flew up, making me conscious I was staring and I’d still not spoken. “Yes?”
“Professor Fischer, I’m Finn Wells. Your new PA.”
My eyes widened. “It’s 7.30 am.”
He brought his fingers to his short, perfectly styled quiff that looked like it wouldn’t dare move, even in a tornado, before pushing past me into the new home that he had apparently found for me while I was on the fourteen-hour journey home.
“My day starts when you start. Here.” He thrust a takeaway coffee cup in my hand. “Cappuccino, one sugar, oat milk.”
“H-how did you know?” I clutched the drink while my other hand hung onto the towel, suddenly aware that I was very naked under it and now wouldn’t be a good time to let it slip.
He glanced back over his shoulder. “My job is to know everything and make your life easier, Professor. Put some clothes on. I’ll meet you in the living room.”
And just like that, he was gone, and I felt like I’d been trampled by a fast-moving baby elephant.
FINN
Nerves bubbledin my stomach as I pressed the buzzer for Professor Fischer’s door. I was about to meet England’s answer to Aquaman, if social media was anything to go by.
I mean, I had stalked his socials—a lot—not that he posted much. It was mostly pictures of him working: jumping off boats in his scuba gear, or with amazing robots that apparently traversed the ocean floor. It took me hours of searching to find his go-to coffee order so I could wow him with my efficiency, however, he had looked less than impressed.
Although, in just his towel, everything else about him looked more than impressive.
I berated myself for my thoughts as I slipped the bag off my shoulder and dropped it on the kitchen counter, taking out my phone, notebook, and pen, lining them all up perfectly straight as I waited for him.
It didn’t take long for Jasper to appear, dressed in ripped jeans, a white t-shirt, and bare feet. God, I was a whore for corded forearms and bare feet, and here he was, flashing me both.
“Is there a reason you’re dressed for a casual brunch with friends?” I questioned, watching as he walked around the counter to throw his cup into the bin.
“I wore a suit yesterday. I can’t be expected to wear one every day.” He turned, pushing his hands into his pockets.
I picked up my phone, flicking to my calendar I’d linked with his late last night when I’d popped into the office to get my bearings before my first day. “You have two meetings today, so you can’t go to work dressed like that.”
He glared at me, and I could feel the tension bouncing off him.
“Yours?” I pointed to the room he’d come out of, the door still wide open.
“Yes, but?—”
“Come with me.”
When he didn’t move, I put my phone back on the counter because the pockets on this outfit were not meant to be used. It ruined the sleek aesthetic I was going for.
“Professor Fischer. You’ve been in the job for one day and I will not let you walk into your second day dressed like you are. Please follow me so I can find you something appropriate that’s not a suit.”
He huffed loudly. “Fine.”
