Page 32 of Protect Thy Enemy

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, I think I’ve hit a nerve. But then his expression hardens again, and he takes another step closer, his voice low. “You still think this is about me? About what I think of you?”

I don’t answer, my breath catching as his proximity sends a fresh wave of heat through me.

“This is about you,” he continues, his tone soft but unrelenting. “About whether you can handle the pressure. Whether you can make the hard calls when it counts. Whether your team can depend onyou.”

Ouch, that last part hurt.

“They can,” I say, my voice steady despite the defensiveness crawling up my spine.

“Then prove it,” he replies, his gaze locking onto mine.

There goes those words again.

The tension between us is suffocating, crackling like static electricity. For a split second, I wonder if he feels it too, the pull, the heat, the way every argument feels like a line we’re daring each other to cross.

But then he steps back, his expression shuttering as quickly as it cracked.

“Get some rest, Williams,” he says, his tone clipped. “You’ll need it.”

And just like that, he’s gone, leaving me standing alone in the break room, my heart pounding and my thoughts spinning.

I tell myself it’s just adrenaline, leftover tension from the day. But deep down, I know better.

Grant isn’t just under my skin. He’s rooted there, taking up space I can’t afford to give him.

And I hate that part of me doesn’t want him to leave.

***

My steps echo in the hallway, the break room light faintly flickering in my peripheral vision. I hadn’t meant to stay this late, but leaving right after... him felt impossible. I needed time to get my head straight.

The drive home is slow, and the city is quiet, but the tension inside me is anything but. The familiar lights of the apartment building bring a rush of relief, but it’s muted, buried under everything else I’m carrying.

By the time I step inside, it’s after midnight. The soft glow of Luna’s laptop is the first thing I see, casting a bluish tint over her features as she sits curled up on the couch.

“You’re late again,” she says without looking up, her fingers typing something furiously.

“Long day,” I reply, kicking off my shoes and setting my bag down by the door. “I texted you this time, Mom.”

She glances at me over the rim of her glasses, her expression softening. “Everything okay?”

I nod, heading to the kitchen for water. It’s like no matter how much I drink, I can never truly feel hydrated. “Yeah. Just a lot of... everything.”

Her brows knit together as she sets her laptop aside, unfolding herself from her cocoon of blankets. “Arden.”

I pause halfway to my room and glance back at her.

“You can talk to me, you know.”

“I know,” I say, forcing a smile. “It’s nothing. Really.”

She studies me for a moment, the corners of her mouth pulling down like she doesn’t quite believe me. But she doesn’t push.

“You missed Tavia,” she says instead, her tone lighter but still tinged with curiosity.

“Lucky me,” I mutter, earning a soft chuckle from her. “Did you have her beta read for you?”

Luna shoots me a look.

---