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I let out a heavy sigh, rubbing the bridge of my nose. Great job, Sable. One harmless line about the chain of command and I’ve gone and launched him headfirst back into Saturday night, when all I meant was the damn job description. Figures.

I snap my fingers against the edge of the desk. “I meant because you’re the account lead, Noah. Telling me what to do comes with the suit and tie. Nothing more scandalous than that.”

A tight, strangled laugh slips out of him. “Right. Yeah. Obviously that’s what you meant. I know that.” He huffs out a breath, flexes his fingers against his thigh, then drags them back to the keyboard. His eyes flick up to meet mine and his fingers slip across the keys, spitting gibberish into the spreadsheet.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath as he frantically backspaces. Then he clears his throat, plastering on a tight smile. “So—uh. Where were we?”

We slog through the rest of the files, the hours bleeding out half the morning, until the only thing anchoring me is the weight of my tablet in my hands and the steady clack of keys from his side of the desk. I force my eyes to stay on the numbers, let the deadlines and client notes stack like sandbags against the pull in my stomach. But every time I glance up, his gaze is already there. Fixed on my lips, drifting to my chest, traveling lower before he jerks it away, cheeks flaring pink, face filled with guilt.

And fuck me if that doesn’t make it worse.

Because I love it—the squirming. I love how easy it is to tie him in knots without even trying. A beautiful, mean little satisfaction curls its way under my ribs every time he trips over himself, every time I catch him looking and see the panic stuttering in his throat.

Enough. Stop it, Sable. You’re at work. This is the kind of shit that gets people fired.

I lock my tablet and push back from the chair. “That’s enough for today.”

He blinks like I’ve yanked him out of a trance, head snapping up to meet my eyes. “Oh… we’re done?”

I huff out a heavy breath, steeling myself. “Yes, Noah. I have some deliverables to handle. I’ll CC you a few notes later so you can read through them.”

He stammers something half-formed but swallows it down, dropping his gaze back down to the pages spread out in front of him. “I uh… I haven’t stopped thinking about it... Saturday, that is…”

My stomach twists. There it is. The elephant in the room, stomping its way right across his desk.

His eyes lift again, locking right onto me, and Jesus, he looks like he’s about to throw up.

Heat crawls under my collar. Not the good kind. Not the kind from Saturday. I flick my gaze to the glass walls and the blurred outlines of half the office moving right outside. “This isn’t the place.”

“Sable—” My name fractures in his throat, and fuck if it doesn’t rake down my spine in a way I really, really don’t want it to right now.

I mean I did tell him he’d see me again. I wasn’t exactly subtle about how much I’d enjoyed myself. But this isn’t what I meant. Seeing him again was supposed to be in his bed, maybe mine—somewhere dark, behind a locked door, not under fluorescent lights with Marla breathing deadlines two doors away and ‘HR violation’ scrawled across every surface in neon.

But the thought slips past my guard anyway.

“I enjoyed it too, Noah.” The admission scrapes out before I smother it with a sharp sigh. I gesture vaguely around the room. “But all things considered, we should probably knock those thoughts on the head, don’t you think?”

“That makes sense,” he says quietly. “I—I just… I don’t want it to be over. It was⁠—”

“Yeah,” I mutter. “I know. Neither do I.”

Perfect. Exactly what I’ve been trying not to say since yesterday morning.

Just hand it over to him on a silver platter, why don’t you, Sable. Brilliant.

For a second, neither of us moves. There’s nothing but the hum of the overhead lights and the thud of my pulse in my ears.

Then he swallows hard. “So… what does that mean?”

“It means nothing,” I say carefully. “We have to leave it at it being just one night. It was fun, sure. But we can’t let it happen again. Not now. You’re my account lead, Noah. If anyone got wind of this…” I sigh heavily and square my shoulders, standing from my chair. “HR doesn’t give a shit about context—they’d brand it misconduct before we even finished explaining. Best case, we’re dragged through an investigation. Worst case, one of us is out the door—or both.”

“Right,” he says, jaw tightening. “It can’t happen again.”

“Exactly. So let’s move on.” I move to the door. “There’s an ass-load of work staring us down, and Marla’s not exactly known for her patience. The longer we sit here circling Saturday, the more likely we are to fuck up on deadlines.”

The glass door clicks behind me, sealing him in, spitting me back out into the hum of keyboards and the stale tang of burnt coffee as I weave through the bullpen.

I drop into my chair and force my eyes to the monitor.