Page 13 of Mated By Midnight

As though fate heard him, the office door finally opened. And there she was, stepping out with a stack of sketchbooks in her hand, her face set in a mask of focus. His heart lurched in his chest, every muscle in his body tensing with the urge to go to her, to say something, to make her see him standing there.

But he didn’t move.

Celine paused at the top of the stairs. Her gaze swept across the street. And then... their eyes met. It was just them, locked in that silent gaze, the bond between them humming like a live wire.

Elijah’s heart was pounding so hard he was sure she could hear it. But he didn’t step forward. He didn’t approach her. Instead, he did what Caleb had been doing for years. He waited.

Celine blinked, her expression flickering with something unreadable. Hurt, maybe? Or confusion? For a moment, Elijah wondered if he'd screwed it all up again. Maybe he should go to her now. Maybe she would accept whatever little he had to give her.

The moment he gave the command to his body to rise was the exact same moment that she turned away. She headed down the steps, giving him her back as she walked away from him.

Elijah exhaled, his hands curling into fists as he fought the urge to go after her. But he stayed rooted to the bench, his chest tight with the weight of his decision. If fate was going to bring them together, it had to be on her terms, not his.

He only hoped that fate didn’t take its damn time.

10

Sleep refused to come. Celine tossed and turned, her sheets twisted around her legs. Even her mind was restless. Her eyes fluttered open once more, and she let out a frustrated breath, staring at the ceiling as if it held the answers she needed.

Her skin prickled, a strange sensation crawling up her spine as if she was being watched. She tried to brush it off, telling herself it was just her imagination. But the feeling persisted, making her heartbeat pick up. Slowly, she pushed the covers off and slid out of bed. Her bare feet sank into the plush rug as she made her way to the window.

The room was unfamiliar to her. It had come along with her new job. Her first place by herself.

She peered out into the night, her gaze sweeping over the darkened forest and the quiet street. The town was still, with only the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze. Nothing seemed out of place. No movement. No scent. Nothing.

Celine sighed, resting her forehead against the cool glass. Could Elijah have been watching over her? After all, he’d sat outside the office all day yesterday. She’d seen him—just sittingthere, waiting, watching. But when she’d left, he hadn’t moved to follow. He hadn’t come after her.

He wasn’t going to chase her. Not now. Not after everything.

She rubbed her eyes and turned away from the window, willing herself to forget the weight of his gaze, the tension that pulsed between them. He wasn’t coming for her. He wasn’t going to fight for her. That much was clear.

Sleep came slowly to her, and it wasn't fitful. Celine dreamed of running. But each time she turned back, there was no one behind her.

The next morning, Celine arrived at the office early, determined to shake off the restless dreams and push through the day with a stiff upper lip. She had too much to do to let herself be distracted by Elijah—or the mess of emotions that stirred whenever he was near.

The office building was quiet as she approached. When she reached the steps, she stopped short. Elijah was there.

He sat on the porch, his broad shoulders relaxed as he leaned against the railing, a cup of coffee in one hand and his laptop balanced on his knees. His dark eyes flicked up when he saw her.

Their gazes locked. That familiar spark shot through her. The bond pulled at her, creating a tension between them.

Elijah didn’t smile. His voice was soft, steady as he spoke. “Morning.”

Celine forced a nod, keeping her expression neutral. “Morning.”

Neither of them said anything more. He just sat there, sipping his coffee, typing on his laptop as if he had settled in for the day. And the strange part? He had a second cup of coffee sitting beside him.

“For you,” he said, nodding toward the untouched cup.

She hesitated for a moment before stepping forward and picking up the cup. Her fingers brushed against his as she did.Her pulse quickened at the brief contact. Celine pulled back quickly, nodding her thanks.

Without another word, she turned and headed inside the office. She placed the coffee on her desk, but the tension in her shoulders remained as she sat down and tried to focus on her work. The office was quiet—too quiet. She felt the pull of the window behind her, tempting her to look outside.

After only fifteen minutes, she gave in.

Her eyes drifted to the window, and there he was—Elijah, sitting on the porch with his laptop, working diligently. He looked so calm, so focused, and yet there was an edge to him, a quiet intensity. Every now and then, someone would pass by, waving or calling out to him. She watched as several women walked by, flashing bright smiles and sending flirty waves his way.

Elijah acknowledged them with polite nods, lifting a hand in a casual wave. But that was it. No lingering conversations, no playful flirting. Just brief, distant acknowledgment.

---