Page 55 of Strictly Business

I let out a sigh and type out a reply to Jade’s message.

Me:

I’m tired, I think I’ll just stay in tonight. Maybe next time.

Jade:

Are you actually tired, or are you fucking your boss?

Sophie:

Jade!

Jade:

What? We’re all thinking it.

There’s a pause, and then I see Sophie typing.

Sophie:

I was thinking it. Sorry.

Great. Everyone thinks we’re sleeping together, and the minute anything evenremotelyclose to that happened, he bolted out of the room like I had a flamethrower aimed at him.

Me:

None of that is happening. I’m just tired. Pumpkin and I are also having a movie night.

Jade:

Riiiight. Just remember. Safe sex is great sex.

I throw my phone on the bed with a deep sigh. My stomach rumbles and I’m sick of seeing the same four walls every single day. I need to get out of this room.

I push myself off the bed, heading for the door. As I step into the hallway, I hear the soft clinking of pans. My heart skips a beat. Nicholas is home.

I freeze, my hand gripping the doorknob. For days, I’ve been avoiding him, pretending like nothing’s changed between us, since it’s clearly what he wants. But it has. The second we crossed that line, everything shifted.

I take a deep breath, trying to pull myself together. Slowly, I open the door, stepping into the kitchen, and my eyes lock on him the second I do.

He’s standing by the stove, wearing a thin gray T-shirt and… sweatpants? I blink, a little stunned. I’ve never seen him like this. Casual. Relaxed. He’s always in a sharp suit, so polished and in control. But now? That confident, authoritative air isgone, replaced by something different. Something that has my pulse speeding up.

I bite my lip, watching him for just a second too long. Then, Pumpkin meows from the doorway, pulling me out of my thoughts. Nicholas glances at the sound, his eyes locking with mine. My breath catches in my throat as he looks me over, his eyes flicking down like he’s remembering that day—the one we’re actively avoiding talking about.

His lips part, and then my name slips from them. “Amara.”

The sound of it makes my whole body tense, reminding me of the moment everything between felt a little too real… before he bolted.

I take a small step forward, trying to steady my breathing.

“Hi,” I mumble, my voice quieter than I want it to be. “Sorry. I was hungry, and… I didn’t know you cooked.”

He doesn’t answer right away, but his eyes stay on me, and the silence stretches between us. “I told you, Amara. You don’t know me.”

I press my lips together. He’s right. I don’t know him, not really. I thought I did, but now I’m realizing just how wrong I was. I didn’t know how dark and intense his eyes could get, how commanding he was, how… dirty his words were.

I shiver at the thought, instinctively pulling my arms around myself. I take another step into the kitchen, lingering near the doorway, unsure of what I’m supposed to do, what I’m supposed to say.

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