Jay noticed it the second Keifer stopped being… normal.
The consultant was standing near his desk, talking animatedly, and Keifer was listening far too politely.
Too patiently.
Too interested.
Jay narrowed her eyes from across the floor.
He smiled.
Not at the consultant.
At Jay.
That was suspicious.
A minute later, Keifer did something unforgivable.
He laughed.
Jay's pen snapped.
Freya leaned over. "Count to ten."
Jay muttered, "I'm at two and already irritated."
As if on cue, Keifer tilted his head toward the consultant and said something that made her laugh again. Then—very deliberately—he leaned back in his chair, relaxed, casual.
And glanced at Jay.
Jay stared back.
He raised an eyebrow.
Oh. He was doing this on purpose.
Jay stood up and walked toward him, calm on the outside, plotting on the inside.
"Keifer," she said sweetly, "do you need something?"
He looked up, innocent. "Actually, yes."
Jay smiled. Dangerously. "Of course you do."
He gestured to the consultant. "We were just discussing how efficient our team is. Especially you."
Jay blinked. "Me?"
Keifer nodded. "I told her you're the backbone of this place."
The consultant smiled. "He speaks very highly of you."
Jay's irritation short-circuited.
"Oh," Jay said, blinking. "That's… nice."
Keifer leaned back again, clearly enjoying this far too much.
"And," he added calmly, "I mentioned how patient you are."
Jay's eye twitched.
Patient.
Oh, this man was testing her.
She crossed her arms. "Is that so?"
Keifer smiled sweetly. "Very."
Jay leaned closer. "Would you like to test that theory?"
The consultant laughed awkwardly. "I should… get going."
"Probably," Jay said pleasantly.
As soon as she walked away, Jay turned to Keifer.
"You are enjoying this."
Keifer grinned. "Immensely."
She swatted his arm lightly. "You're impossible."
He leaned in, lowering his voice. "You didn't deny it."
"Deny what?"
"That you were jealous."
Jay scoffed. "I wasn't jealous."
He tilted his head. "Then why did you scare her?"
"I did not scare her!"
"You smiled," he said. "Menacingly."
Jay burst out laughing despite herself. "You're terrible."
He stood, stepping into her space just enough to be annoying. "Admit it."
"Never."
He bent slightly, voice amused. "You were watching the whole time."
Jay sighed. "Maybe."
Keifer's smile softened. "Cute."
She rolled her eyes. "I hate you."
He chuckled. "No, you don't."
Jay smiled—warm, playful, completely at ease.
Not jealous.
Just human.
And Keifer?
Absolutely pleased with himself.
This time, Keifer wasn't doing anything wrong.
That was the problem.
He was calm. Polite. Completely himself.
The woman—another client this time—stood beside him near the conference table, talking animatedly. Keifer listened the way he always did: attentive, respectful, professional. No leaning. No smiling too much. No touching.
Just normal.
Jay watched from across the room, arms folded loosely, expression neutral.
Too neutral.
Freya glanced at her and immediately knew. "Oh no," she whispered. "Not again."
Jay didn't reply.
Because what annoyed her most wasn't the woman.
It was how natural Keifer looked standing there. How easily people gravitated toward him. How effortlessly he existed—steady, composed, unknowingly dangerous to her peace.
The woman laughed.
Keifer nodded.
Said something quiet.
The woman leaned in slightly closer to hear him.
That was it.
Jay didn't storm over.
Didn't glare.
Didn't interrupt.
She walked.
Straight. Calm. Purposeful.
The conversation paused the moment she stopped beside Keifer.
He turned, surprised. "Jay?"
She didn't answer.
Instead, she stepped closer—close enough that her shoulder brushed his chest. Close enough that everyone nearby suddenly stopped pretending not to watch.
Jay turned to the woman and smiled. Polite. Sweet.
"Sorry," she said gently, "can I borrow him for a second?"
Before anyone could respond—
Jay reached up, slid her hand into Keifer's collar, and pulled him down just enough to kiss him.
Not rushed.
Not dramatic.
Just confident.
The room went dead silent.
Keifer froze for half a second.
Then—his hand instinctively came to her waist, steadying her, grounding both of them.
When she pulled back, Jay looked at him, eyes calm, voice soft but unmistakably clear.
"Mine."
Someone actually gasped.
Keifer stared at her for a heartbeat longer—
Then smiled.
Not amused.
Not teasing.
Warm. Certain.
He leaned down and rested his forehead against hers, quiet enough that only she could hear.
"You okay now?"
Jay nodded, breath finally steady. "Yeah."
He turned to the room, still holding her easily. "Meeting's adjourned."
Nobody argued.
As they walked away together, Freya whispered, "I'm never flirting with anyone again."
Rakki muttered, "I just witnessed a corporate power move."
Jay glanced up at Keifer. "You're not mad?"
He shook his head. "No."
A pause.
"But you could've warned me."
She smiled innocently. "You said you like when I don't disappear."
His thumb brushed her side. "I do."
And from that day on, no one in that office ever wondered who Keifer belonged to.
Jay made sure of it.
It didn't hit her immediately.
It hit her when the elevator doors closed.
The silence inside the elevator was thick. Not uncomfortable. Just… loud in its own way.
Jay stood beside Keifer, eyes fixed straight ahead, hands clasped together like she didn't quite know where to put them anymore.
Her cheeks were burning.
Keifer glanced at her once.
Then again.
She refused to look at him.
That's when he knew.
"Jay," he said gently.
She cleared her throat. "Mm?"
"You okay?"
She nodded too fast. "Yes. Totally. Fine."
He hummed, amused. "You're pink."
"I am not."
"You are."
She finally looked at him, mortified. "I just—" She stopped, then blurted, "I kissed you. In front of everyone."
Keifer smiled softly. "You did."
Jay groaned and covered her face with her hands. "I don't know what came over me."
He gently pulled her hands down, not forcing, just enough so she had to meet his eyes.
"You," he said calmly, "came over you."
Her voice dropped. "What if it was unprofessional?"
Keifer tilted his head. "Was it honest?"
Jay hesitated. "…Yes."
"Then I'm okay with it."
She stared at him. "You're really not mad?"
"No," he said. "I was surprised. But not mad."
Her shoulders relaxed a little. Then the embarrassment rushed back in.
"I think I traumatized half the office," she muttered.
He chuckled quietly. "They'll recover."
She bit her lip. "I don't usually do things like that."
"I know," he said gently. "That's why it meant something."
Jay's eyes softened. "I didn't plan it."
Keifer smiled. "That was obvious."
She swatted his arm lightly. "Don't tease me."
"I'm not," he said, still smiling. "I'm proud of you."
That made her pause.
"Proud?" she echoed.
"You didn't disappear," he said simply. "You chose."
Her shyness shifted into something warmer.
The elevator dinged.
As they stepped out, Jay hesitated, then reached for his hand—tentative, almost unsure.
Keifer laced their fingers together without hesitation.
Jay looked down at their hands, then up at him, smiling softly.
"Next time," she said quietly, "I'll warn you."
He squeezed her hand. "Next time, I'll be ready."
She laughed—small, shy, real.
And for once, she didn't feel embarrassed about what she felt.
She felt brave.