I frowned slightly. “That’s your advice?”
“My advice,” he said, “is that you’ve already done the analysis. You’ve seen exactly who he is, and you’re still here. The question isn’t why you love him. The question is whether you can live with the way he loves you.”
I went still at that, the words landing heavier than anything else he’d said.
“You’ve seen it,” Doc continued. “The focus, the intensity. When Novak decides someone matters, that doesn’t switch off. It doesn’t dilute over time. It sharpens.”
“I know,” I said, quieter now.
“Are you okay with that?” he asked.
I stared at the screen in front of me, but I wasn’t seeing it anymore. I was seeing Novak instead—his stillness, the way he watched, the certainty in everything he did.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Part of me thinks I should run. That this is exactly how you lose control of a situation.” I exhaled slowly. “But the rest of me… the part that actually matters, I guess… doesn’t want out.”
Doc hummed softly, as if that made sense to him. “Then you don’t have a lack of understanding,” he said. “You have a decision to make.”
“I think I already made it,” I said, the words coming out before I could second-guess them.
There was a small shift in the background, as if he’d leaned against the counter. “Novak’s not going to change who he is, Caleb. But he’ll adapt where he can, if you make it clear what matters. Have you told him?”
I felt suddenly sad. “Is there any point if it doesn’t mean anything to him?”
“Jesus, Caleb, it means something toyou. Tell him and let him understand what he can.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“Anytime,” he replied.
I ended the call and sat there for a moment, the quiet of the room settling back in around me, the screens still running, the world still rotating exactly as it had before, and footsteps on the stairs.
Nothing had changed.
Except now I wasn’t pretending I didn’t know what this was.
He came in with more chocolate.
“You’re not even trying to make this easy,” I said.
“Make what easier?”
“Nothing,” I dismissed, not quite ready for the big reveal. I hooked a finger into his belt and tugged him. “Come here.”
His hand came to the back of my neck, it reminded me how easily he could take control of the space between us. His thumb traced my skin, slow, deliberate, and he kissed me. The way he focused on me, made something low and addictive tighten in my chest, the idea of him taking care of me like this—possessive, a little dangerous—not pushing me away, but pulling me in deeper.
I imagined all that focus on me as he took me apart with his cock buried inside me.
“Are you vers? Will you ever want to fuck me?”
“Whatever you want.” He leaned into my space, brushed cookie crumbs from my lips, and kissed me. “Now?”
“Afterwe work,” I said, although I was already hard and had to wriggle a major readjustment in my pants to sit still. He glanced down and then back up to meet my gaze. A vibration indicated the final files were available, and I kissed him back until it vibrated again. “Cockblocked by a phone,” I muttered.
“Later,” he promised me with a gleam in his gorgeous silver eyes.
Later.
Back to work.
