Maya POV
I followed Noah down the hallway like I was walking toward a guillotine.
My heart thumped so loud I could hear it in my ears. I kept my arms tight to my chest and my head down, praying no one would look up as we passed.
He didn’t say a single word. Not even a glance back at me.
I tried to tell myself it was just about work. That this was normal. Professional. But when it came to Noah Sterling, nothing ever felt just professional.
When we reached his office, he opened the door and walked in first. I hovered in the doorway for a second, breathing in deeply, trying to calm the wave of nerves crawling up my spine.
“Maya,” he said, not looking back. “Come in. Close the door.”
I stepped in quickly, shutting the door behind me with a soft click. The room was quiet, the blinds half-drawn, sunlight streaking across his desk like golden scars. It smelled like cedarwood and ink. Like him.
Noah stood by the edge of his desk, his arms folded across his chest, his jaw tight.
“You’re the one doing the presentation,” he said suddenly.
I blinked. “What?”
He looked at me now, his dark eyes steady. “The presentation. You’re doing it.”
“You mean… like with you? Or alone?”
“With me,” he said. “You helped me build it. You know the data. You know the story behind it. I need it to be perfect. And I trust you’ll do it right.”
My breath caught. Of all the things he could’ve said, that wasn’t one I expected.
“I… I don’t know what to say.”
“Say yes,” he said simply.
I stared at him for a beat longer before sighing, shoulders dropping. “Fine. I’ll do the presentation with you.”
He nodded once, like that was all he needed to hear. But the silence that followed wasn’t comfortable. It was heavy. Electric.
I bit my lip, then stepped a little closer to his desk. I had to ask. I couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“I need to know,” I said quietly. “Why are you so hot and cold with me, Noah?”
He didn’t respond.
“Why do you pull me in just to push me away again?” I asked, louder now. “Why do you look at me like I’m everything one second and then act like I don’t exist the next?”
He didn’t look at me.
He turned his back, staring out the window instead, his silhouette etched against the afternoon light. I could see the way his fists clenched at his sides. The way his shoulders rose and fell with slow, uneven breaths.
Still, he said nothing.
My heart cracked a little more with every second he stayed quiet.
“Say something,” I whispered. “Anything.”
And then—he turned around. And in two long strides, he crossed the room.
Before I could react—before I could even breathe—he reached out, cupped my face in his hands, and kissed me.
Hard. Deep. Like he’d been dying for it.
I gasped into his mouth, stunned—but my body reacted before my mind could catch up. My hands found his shirt, gripping it as he tilted his head and deepened the kiss.
It wasn’t sweet. It was raw. Hungry. Unapologetic.
His mouth moved over mine like he owned it. Like he needed this just to breathe. His fingers dug into my hair, his body pressing mine against the desk as if he couldn’t get close enough.
And God—he tasted like coffee and heat and all the words he never said.
My knees went weak. My head spun. And for a moment, the world disappeared. It was just us.
Just the kiss. Just everything I had been aching for without even knowing it. But then—he pulled away.
Suddenly. Roughly.
His chest heaved, lips swollen, eyes wild—but his hands dropped from my face like I’d burned him.
I stood there frozen, my heart hammering in my chest, my lips tingling, every nerve in my body lit up like a firework.
“Noah—”
But he didn’t wait for me to speak. He grabbed his coat, his keys, and walked right past me.
Out the door. Without a word.
Leaving me standing in the middle of his office, breathless, confused, and burning with a hundred questions I couldn’t ask.