It happened again.
Late night.
Empty office.
Just the two of them.
"You should go home," Adrian said, watching her from across the room.
"So should you."
"I will."
"You won't."
A small smile tugged at his lips.
"Probably not."
Amara sighed, closing her laptop.
"Why do you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Stay."
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he walked over slowly.
Deliberately.
"Because you do."
Her breath caught.
"That's not an answer."
"It is."
Silence.
Soft.
Heavy.
Real.
"Adrian…" she started.
But she didn't know what she was going to say.
He stepped closer.
Closer.
Until—
There was barely any space left between them.
"You never answered my question," he said quietly.
"What question?"
"Am I just someone you tolerate?"
Her heart pounded.
This wasn't business anymore.
This was something else.
Something deeper.
Something harder to control.
"You're…" she hesitated.
And that hesitation said everything.
Adrian's gaze softened.
"Say it."
"I don't know," she admitted.
Honest.
Vulnerable.
Dangerous.
Because it meant—
He mattered.
More than he should.
More than she wanted.
And definitely more than she was ready for.