Working with Adrian Velasco was exhausting.
Not because he was incompetent.
But because he was too good.
"You're overthinking it," Adrian said, leaning against the edge of the conference table.
Amara didn't even look up from her tablet. "And you're underestimating the risk."
"I'm calculating it."
"You're gambling."
A pause.
Then—
"You don't trust me," he said.
Amara finally looked at him.
"I don't trust anyone."
Something flickered in his eyes.
Not anger.
Understanding.
"Fair," he admitted.
Silence stretched between them, filled only by the soft hum of the air conditioning.
They had been working side by side for hours.
Too close.
Too often.
Too… comfortable.
Amara stood, walking toward the digital screen to adjust the presentation.
Adrian followed.
Of course he did.
"You missed a variable," he said, stepping closer behind her.
"I didn't—"
His hand reached past her, tapping the screen.
Her breath caught.
Because now—
He was right there.
Close enough that she could feel his warmth.
Close enough that if she turned—
Their faces would be inches apart.
"You did," he murmured softly.
But his voice had changed.
Lower.
Gentler.
Dangerous in a completely different way.
Amara slowly turned her head.
Big mistake.
Their eyes met.
And suddenly—
The project didn't matter.
The company didn't matter.
Nothing did.
Except the way his gaze softened.
Except the way her heart refused to stay calm.
"You're distracting," she whispered.
Adrian smirked slightly.
"You're the one who turned."
Her cheeks warmed.
She hated that he was right.
"Focus," she said, stepping back quickly.
But the moment lingered.
And they both felt it.