Cassie’s POV
"No sir, that’s not what I meant." I defended myself quickly.
"This is highly professional and I don’t have any interest in what you’re thinking this was about."
Right there, I wished the ground would open and let me sink into it.
"Can I go now?" I asked, not bothering to hide the annoyance in my voice.
"Yes." He gestured for me to go back to my seat.
—
I was already in Edward’s car, ready to go home.
"How was your day?" he asked. "Seems like you had a bad one."
"Yes," I replied reluctantly.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No... I don’t want to. Just drive me home." I laid my head against the window. After a few seconds I changed my mind. "Actually, take me to your place. I don’t want to go home. There’s a bad energy there and it’ll only add to what I’m already feeling."
"Okay," he said simply. "You call the shots."
My head was full. Even though I couldn’t properly think about any of it, everything was just sitting there, heavy.
We got to his place.
The second the door clicked shut behind us, I was on him.
My bag slipped from my fingers and hit the floor as I pushed him back against the wood, my mouth already finding his. The kiss was messy, almost desperate — every frayed nerve from the day poured into the way I moved against him. He tensed in surprise for half a second before his hands came up, one sliding into my hair, the other gripping my waist and pulling me tight against him.
I kissed him harder, like I could rewrite the entire afternoon if I just pressed close enough. Like I could erase the way Damien looked at me while kissing Cece, the low way he’d said my name, the heat that had settled low in my stomach and refused to leave. I slid my hands under his shirt without thinking, palms skating over warm skin, and the soft groan he made against my mouth only pushed me further.
He turned us around, still kissing me, walking me backward until the backs of my knees hit the couch. Clothes started coming undone in a blur of mouths and hands. His shirt hit the floor. Mine followed.
His mouth dropped to my neck and his hand slid up my thigh beneath my skirt. I arched into him with a soft, broken sound. It felt good. It should have been enough. His touch was familiar, safe, wanted...
Then his fingers brushed higher, and something in my chest locked tight.
I went still.
For a second he didn’t notice, still kissing along my collarbone, breathing hard against my skin. Then he felt the sudden rigidity in my body and pulled back just enough to look at me.
"Hey," he said quietly, thumb stroking my hip. "You okay?"
I couldn’t meet his eyes. My pulse was still racing, lips swollen, every place he’d touched still hot — but the wanting had twisted into something sharp and wrong.
All I could see was the way Damien had touched Cece like he wanted her. The way he’d leaned in just a little too close. The way my stomach had flipped whenever he’d said my name like it meant something.
I swallowed hard and gently pushed at his chest.
"I can’t," I whispered. "Not tonight."
He stilled completely. Concern flickered across his face as he searched mine for answers. "Did I do something...?"
"No." I shook my head quickly, already reaching for my shirt, fingers clumsy. "It’s not you. I just... had a really long day. My head’s all over the place."
The half-truth sat heavy in my mouth. I couldn’t tell him the real reason. Couldn’t tell him that every time his hands were on me, part of me wished it was Damien’s. That I kept replaying his voice in my head. That I only saw his eyes staring at me.
Edward nodded slowly and stepped back, giving me space. The air between us felt suddenly cooler.
I pulled my shirt back on and sat on the edge of the couch, staring at my hands. Guilt settled deep in my chest, heavy and familiar.
It wasn’t that I wasn’t feeling it.
It was that I was feeling it for the wrong person. My mind was somewhere else. My body rejected his efforts, and I couldn’t help but feel bad for him.
"Can I stay here tonight?" I asked quietly. "I don’t want to go home."
"Of course." His voice was soft. "You don’t have to ask."
We didn’t talk much after that. I borrowed one of his shirts to sleep in, curled up on the far side of the bed, and pretended the distance between us didn’t feel like another kind of failure. Just awkward silence.
Sleep came eventually, heavy and dreamless.
Morning light cut across the room when I finally opened my eyes. I sat up too fast, heart already racing. The clock on the nightstand read 8:47.
I was late.
I scrambled out of bed and put on yesterday’s skirt and blouse because I hadn’t brought anything else. The fabric felt wrinkled and slightly lived-in against my skin. I splashed water on my face, dragged a brush through my hair, and tried to smooth the worst of the creases from my clothes. It didn’t really work.
Edward was already in the kitchen when I rushed out.
"You’re late," he said, not unkindly, holding out a travel mug.
"I know. Thank you." I took it, kissed his cheek quickly, and was out the door before the guilt could settle any deeper.
The drive to the office felt longer than usual. Every red light gave me more time to notice the same blouse, the same skirt, the faint scent of his apartment still clinging to my skin. By the time I stepped into the building, my stomach was tight.
I stopped at the coffee station first, the way I always did. No sugar, strong — exactly how Damien liked it. The familiar weight of the cup in my hand felt almost grounding as I walked toward his office. My desk sat in the corner of his space, the small area he’d given me so he could keep his eyes on me all day. Usually I was used to it. Today it felt exposed.
I almost made it to my chair.
Almost.
"You’re late."
His voice stopped me cold.
I turned slowly. Damien stood near the glass wall, coffee already in hand from somewhere else, eyes moving over me in a single, unhurried sweep. The same dark suit as always. The same unreadable expression. But something in his gaze lingered a second too long on the wrinkled blouse, the slightly smudged makeup I hadn’t had time to fix, the same clothes I had been wearing when I left the building yesterday evening.
His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
"Rough night?" he asked, voice low enough that only I could hear.
I forced a small, professional smile and set his coffee on the usual spot on his desk. "Just overslept."
He didn’t smile back. His eyes stayed on me for a little while.
"Why are you still putting on your clothes from yesterday?"
"I had a little situation... but can I go home at least to refresh and change my clothes?"
He glanced at me. "I give you an hour to do that. My driver is waiting for you so that you won’t have any excuse if you’re late."
"Thank you, sir." I packed my things quickly and headed out.
—
When I arrived home, Kate’s car was still parked, which meant she was around.
I quickly rushed into her room. She was already getting dressed for work.
"Katie," I said softly.
Her gaze turned in my direction.
"Cass... you didn’t come home last night. Is it because of me?" she asked.
"No. I had a really crazy day at work. I didn’t want to come back home feeling that way, especially since you’re not happy with me."
"I can’t be angry with you forever." She paused. "I overreacted. You didn’t have a bad reason for what you did... and I’m sorry."
"Aww, Kate." I muttered, hugging her. "I should’ve trusted you instead of talking to Dylan about it."
"It’s fine. What are you doing here by this time... and why do you stink?"
"It’s true... I’m under a time limit," I said, already racing into my room, flinging my clothes onto the couch and stepping into the bathroom.
By the time I was done, Kate had already gone. I closed the door, checked my watch — I had twenty minutes left before my time was up.
Fifteen minutes later, I got back to the building, rushed into the office, and saw Cece sitting on Damien’s chair like it belonged to her.
"Where is Damien?" I asked her.
"No idea. I’m just waiting for him to come back from wherever he went."
I nodded. "Alright." I took my seat and tried to focus on the system in front of me.
Then he walked in. He looked around his office. His eyes caught Cece sitting right in his chair.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, like he didn’t even want her there.