Page 8 of The CEO's Obsession

"This is crazy," I whisper, even as my fingers tangle in his hair.

Mason pulls back slightly, his eyes dark and intense. "Does it feel crazy?"

No, it feels right. And that terrifies me more than anything.

I finally manage to pull back, breathless and unsteady. My heart pounds as I meet Mason's gaze, his eyes burning with an intensity that leaves me reeling. The small storage room suddenly feels suffocating, the shelves closing in around us.

"I...I need to think," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. My thoughts are a chaotic mess, spinning faster than I can process. The weight of what just happened settles over me, heavy and impossible to ignore.

Mason reaches for me again, but I take a step back. "Harper?—"

"Please," I cut him off, holding up a hand. "Just...give me a minute."

He nods, respecting my space, but I can see the tension in his jaw. The air between us crackles with unresolved energy.

Without waiting for a response, I turn and push open the door. The cool air of the café hits me like a slap, but it's notenough to clear my head. My legs feel shaky as I walk toward the exit, my pulse still racing.

"Harper, wait!" Mason's voice carries across the café, but I can't bring myself to look back.

I push through the front door, the familiar jingle of the bell now sounding like an alarm. Outside, the crisp autumn air of Oakwood wraps around me, but it doesn't help. Mason's kiss lingers, a ghost I can't shake.

"Breathe, Harper," I mutter to myself, inhaling deeply. The scent of fallen leaves and artisanal coffee fills my lungs, but does nothing to calm the storm inside me.

My mind spins with the implications of what comes next. I start walking, no destination in mind, just needing to move. The cobblestone sidewalks of downtown Oakwood pass beneath my feet, a stark contrast to my inner turmoil.

I run a hand through my hair, frustrated. "He's a billionaire. This is insane."

A couple walking past gives me a strange look, and I realize I've been talking to myself. Great, now I'm the crazy artist muttering on the street. I force a smile and keep moving.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I don't need to look to know it's Mason, and I don’t even question how he got my number. With his kind of resources, he probably knows more about me than I know about myself.

I leave the phone unanswered, quickening my pace.

As I round the corner onto Main Street, the historic lampposts cast warm golden light on the sidewalk. It's beautiful, but all I can think about is the way Mason looked at me in that dimly lit room.

Focus, Harper, I mentally tell myself.You're independent, remember? You don't need his help or his...complications.

But even as I say it, I know it's not that simple. The memory of his touch sends a shiver through me that has nothing to do with the autumn chill.

I stop in front of a gallery window, my reflection staring back at me. I hardly recognize myself—flushed cheeks, wide eyes, hair slightly mussed. Is this really me? The independent artist who swore she'd make it on her own?

My phone buzzes again, insistent. I take a deep breath and finally pull it out, staring at Mason's name on the screen. My finger hovers over the answer button, trembling slightly.

CHAPTER

FOUR

Mason

The city lightsof Oakwood twinkle below as I pace back and forth across my penthouse, each step fueled by frustration and longing. Harper's face haunts me, her eyes filled with skepticism as she abruptly left the coffee shop. I replay our encounter for the thousandth time, analyzing every word, every gesture.

"Damn it," I mutter, running a hand through my hair. I've called her countless times, but she never picks up. The silence is maddening.

I stop at the floor-to-ceiling windows, pressing my forehead against the cool glass. My reflection stares back at me, accusation in its eyes. I moved too fast, came on too strong. Of course she ran.

But God, I need to see her again. To explain, to make her understand.

My phone feels heavy in my hand as I debate calling her once more. No. I have to respect her space, give her time. But every fiber of my being aches to be near her.

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