Vanessa
Going back to work on Monday felt like stepping into a life I barely recognized anymore.
The office looked the same—gray carpets, glass partitions, the soft hum of printers—but I felt different. Too aware. Too jittery. Too full of energy I had no business carrying. Every sound, every scent, every faint brush of movement seemed magnified. My mind refused to let me settle.
I'd spent the weekend pretending nothing happened. Pretending I hadn't almost let a twenty-four-year-old man back me against a kitchen counter and steal the breath from my lungs. Pretending I wasn't still flushed with heat at the memory. Pretending I could ignore the small, reckless thrill that danced through me whenever I thought of Xavier.
Reality was easier to handle when I kept myself busy.
So I dove into work. I told my boss I'd take anything at this point, remote or otherwise. Deadlines, spreadsheets, phone calls—anything to distract my overactive thoughts. Charlie had left a fairly successful construction company in the hands of his best friend after his passing. Finn hadn't learned the ropes yet, but I wanted him to. Still, he always had his own plans, always chasing independence. I never understood that, but I didn't have time to dwell.
I was hunched over my laptop, eyes straining at the glow of the screen, when Fawn's voice cut through the quiet.
"Hey Mom, I'm done packing for school," she said, practically bursting into the study with a mixture of excitement and apprehension.
"And before you ask, Linda is already taking me to the airport," she added quickly, as if anticipating my objection.
"Baby, you know I can take you, right?" I said, standing and walking over to hug her.
"I know," she said, pressing her face into my shoulder. "But I didn't want to worry you."
"Mom?" Her voice trembled slightly.
"Yes, baby?" I asked, brushing a stray curl from her forehead.
"I'm worried about you," she confessed, looking up at me with those wide, honest eyes.
I forced a smile. "Why, sweetheart? I'm fine."
She shook her head. "I don't want to leave you alone in this house by yourself. Finn's going to start grad school soon… or move out… and I'm worried. You used to be so… outgoing, social, chipper. Now you seem… quieter."
Her words hit harder than she knew. I tried to reassure her, choosing my words carefully. "I'm fine, Fawn, okay? Just a little stressed… I'm figuring things out."
She studied me for a long moment, her expression softening. "I just want you to be happy again," she whispered.
Happiness. The word lingered in the air like a delicate, dangerous promise. Closer than it had been in months, yet so far.
I forced myself to smile. "You'll see, baby. I will be happy again. I promise."
Her gaze drifted toward the hallway. "Have you said goodbye to Finn yet?" she asked.
"Hell no. He gets on my nerves," she muttered with a small laugh.
I shook my head, trying not to chuckle. "You two are siblings. You should get along… he's all you've got."
"Yeah, yeah," she said, rolling her eyes, and started pulling her suitcase toward the door.
Finn appeared then, leaning against the wall like he had something important to say—but trying not to show it. "Ready to go, Fawn?"
She groaned dramatically. "I'll miss you, annoying brother," she said, slapping him lightly on the arm before heading to the front door.
Finn ruffled her hair. "Don't get too excited about junior year, little sister. It's a trap."
"I'll survive," she called over her shoulder, glancing back at me with a small smile.
I walked with her to the front door, my heart heavy despite my best efforts to appear calm. Linda was waiting in the car, waving cheerfully.
"Hi, Mrs. Crawford," she said politely. "Ready to see Fawn off?"
"Hi, dear. Thank you for driving her," I said, forcing a smile, wishing I could shield my daughter from all the worries I felt myself.
"No problem," Linda replied kindly.
And then, in a whirl of hugs, suitcase adjustments, and last-minute instructions, the car sped off, leaving me alone in the quiet house. I let out a reluctant sigh and walked back inside, trying to focus.
I returned to my office space, opening emails and tackling paperwork, but the sun dipping low outside the window made it hard to concentrate. Golden streaks cut across my desk, warm and inviting, but all I could see was the kitchen, the counter, and the memory of Xavier's gaze—hungry, teasing, and dangerously familiar.
My throat tightened. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, typing words I couldn't seem to commit to, pausing every few seconds as the memory of him pressed against me replayed in my mind.
Then my phone lit up.
Xavier: Are you home?
My pulse spiked.
Two seconds later—
Xavier: We need to finish our conversation.
I froze. The echo of almost lingered in my chest. I stared at the screen, knowing exactly what conversation he meant… and exactly how close I had been to letting him kiss me again.
I forced myself to breathe. I forced myself to focus. I couldn't let him invade my thoughts today. Not after everything. Not while Fawn had just left. Not while the house felt too quiet, too tempting.
I'm his best friend mother, this shouldn't be something I should be doing, I can't be caught doing this.
I had been letting him in and out of our house, with no checks and now I wanted to but some boundaries, at least between me and him.
And I took my phone and hit the block button, good riddance I thought, but something at the back of my mind, badly wanted to see him.
I had done everything I could to keep him away. Blocked his number, ignored the texts I knew were coming, told myself over and over that I wouldn't let him anywhere near me.
And yet… here he was.
I froze the moment I saw him leaning against the terrace railing, the evening breeze playing with his damp hair, the sunset casting him in gold that made him look almost unreal. My heart skipped a beat.
"Xavier! What… how did you—" I started, my voice trembling.
"I came for dinner," he said casually, stepping closer, eyes locked on mine. "You didn't answer my messages. I figured this was the next best way."
"You… you can't just—" I tried to interrupt, but he raised a hand, stopping me mid-word.
"I can," he said softly, leaning closer so I could feel the heat radiating off him. "I told you before… I won't stop wanting you. And I won't let you ignore this. Not tonight. Not ever."
My chest tightened. "Xavier… you can't be here. I said don't come. I blocked your number. This… this is wrong."
"And yet," he said, voice low, almost dangerous, "here I am."
I took a step back, hoping to put some distance between us, but the terrace was small, and he closed the space faster than I could. My back pressed against the cool railing, my heart hammering in my chest.
"Vanessa," he murmured, his voice rough and soft at the same time, "look at me. Just… look at me. Tell me you don't feel it too. Tell me you're not drawn to me in ways that scare you."
I swallowed hard, trying to form words. My throat felt dry. My pulse was racing. "I… I can't, Xavier… please, just leave," I whispered, shaking my head.
But he didn't move. Not even an inch. One hand rested against the railing right next to me, trapping me. Every instinct screamed at me to run, to push him away—but a part of me… a very dangerous part… wanted him there.
"This… what you're doing… it's wrong. For me. For everything," I managed to choke out, my fingers gripping the railing like it would save me from myself.
"Wrong? Maybe," he said, smirking slightly, "but impossible to resist? Definitely not."
My breath hitched. His nearness, the warmth of him, the way he looked at me like he could see every part of me I tried to hide—it was too much. I pressed my eyes shut for a moment, telling myself to think of something else: work, Fawn, Finn… anything.
"I shouldn't be here," he murmured, softer now, more dangerous in a quiet way. "But I am. And until you tell me to leave… I'm not going anywhere."
I wanted to scream, to make him go, but instead my chest tightened and my knees felt weak. One side of me screamed for him to leave, but the other… wanted to collapse into him.
"Vanessa… one day," he whispered, brushing his fingers near mine—so close, yet not touching—"you're going to stop running from me. And when that happens… there's no going back."
I opened my eyes, meeting his gaze, and my heart lurched. That intensity I'd tried so hard to ignore—it was real. And terrifyingly… it was mine too