Landen shifted. Just a fraction. But it closed the already small distance between them, and Adriel felt it everywhere; the warmth of him closer, the air between them thinning and sharpening.
Landen's eyes dropped to his mouth. And this time he didn't look away.
Adriel forgot how to breathe.
He should move back.He knew he should move back.
He didn't.
Landen lifted his hand. Each inch of movement measured, unhurried, giving Adriel time to pull away, to turn his head, to stop this before it started.
Adriel watched it come and couldn't have moved if his life depended on it.
Landen's fingers brushed his jaw. Barely touching. The lightest pressure, the barest contact. His thumb traced the line of Adriel's cheekbone, feather-light, and Adriel's eyes fluttered closed without his permission.
He could feel Landen's breath now. Close. Warm. The solid reality of him, the fact that this was happening, that Landen'shand was on his face and Landen was looking at his mouth and they were alone and nothing else in the world existed.
The elevator shuddered softly to a stop.
The doors opened.
The lobby spilled in; fluorescent light, harsh and white, the distant sound of the security guard's voice, a courier waiting by the desk, the ordinary world rushing back into the space that had held only the two of them.
The moment broke like glass.
Landen's hand dropped. He stepped back, the professional composure slid back into place like a mask.
"Good night." His voice was even as he left the elevator.
As Adriel stepped out into the lobby, he saw that Landen was already crossing toward the exit, saying something to the security guard, a casual greeting, nothing in his posture suggesting that anything had happened at all. Hand in his pocket. Stride unhurried.
Adriel stood in the middle of the lobby with his bag over his shoulder and his heart still slamming against his ribs and the ghost of Landen's fingers still warm on his jaw, as he watched him push through the doors and disappear into the night.
∞∞∞
The night air was cold.
Adriel stood on the pavement outside the building and breathed it in, let it fill his lungs, let it shock his system back into something that resembled normal. Sharp and clean, a stark contrast to the warm gold of the elevator, to the heat still lingering on his skin where Landen's fingers had barely touched him.
His hands were shaking inside his pockets.
His fingers curled into fists, trying to stop it, but they kept shaking anyway. Kept remembering. Kept replaying.
His jaw still tingled.
He lifted one hand from his pocket and pressed it to the spot, as if he could imprint it. Make it last.
Eventually, he made himself move.
The streets were quiet at this hour, the city settled into something slower, the few people he passed absorbed in their own late-night worlds.
He told himself, for the last time, that he was not going to let himself want this.
He said it firmly. With conviction. He marshaled all the arguments, all the evidence of past disasters, all the reasons why wanting Landen Waters was the most dangerous thing he could do. He laid them out like a case file.
He is your boss. He is out of your league. He was probably just…
The arguments piled up. Solid. Reasonable.True.