My breath was still uneven, my heart pounding in my chest as I stared at Ethan. My lips burned from the kiss, my mind struggling to keep up with what had just happened. He looked just as rattled as I felt, his usual composure nowhere to be found.
“That was… a mistake,” he finally said, running a hand through his hair. His voice was low and strained, and it sent my frustration soaring.
“A mistake?” I echoed, the incredulity in my voice unmistakable. “You think you can just kiss me and call it a mistake like it didn’t happen?”
Ethan’s gray eyes met mine, a flicker of something raw crossing his face. “I don’t know what I think when I’m around you, Maeve,” he admitted, his voice softer now, but no less intense.
The words hit me harder than I expected. The air between us felt charged again, heavy with something I couldn’t name. I swallowed hard, trying to temper the anger simmering just beneath my skin. “Get your head on straight, Drake,” I snapped, shaking my head. “I’ve got work to do.”
I turned sharply, walking out of his office without a backward glance. But as I returned to my desk, my pulse refused to settle. Every interaction with him for the rest of the day felt different, more charged. His presence felt like a gravitational pull, one I hated but couldn’t ignore.
The next morning, I was knee-deep in a client proposal when his voice broke through the noise. “Winters,” he said, appearing at my desk. His tone was brisk, but something about his expression made my stomach twist.
“What is it now?” I asked, setting my pen down.
“You’re coming to a meeting this afternoon,” he replied, handing me a folder thick with charts and projections. “Investor meeting. High stakes.”
I raised an eyebrow, caught off guard. “Is that a compliment?”
Ethan rolled his eyes but didn’t miss a beat. “Don’t push your luck, Winters.”
***
The boardroom was as intimidating as I expected—a long table surrounded by men and women who radiated power. I sat beside Ethan, my notes clasped tightly in my hands, forcing my pulse to steady as the meeting began. Ethan handled the room like a conductor, his words sharp and precise as he dismantled objections with ease.
When one investor hesitated, I stepped in.
“I understand these numbers might seem aggressive at first glance,” I said, my tone even and confident. “But if you take a closer look at the breakdown on page twelve, you’ll see the rationale behind the projections. We’ve incorporated flexible benchmarks to account for any market volatility.”
The room went silent as the investor opened the folder, his frown easing into a nod of approval. I caught Ethan glancing at me, the barest flicker of acknowledgment in his eyes.
But as the meeting wrapped up, a voice cut through the hum of conversation. “You’re still cleaning up their mess, aren’t you?” an investor said, his tone dripping with disdain. “You always were the dutiful son.”
My stomach dropped as I turned to Ethan, whose expression had hardened into a mask of indifference. Without missing a beat, he stood. “This meeting is adjourned,” he said sharply, his voice leaving no room for argument.