Page 54 of Kisses and Paperclips

“It was something to me.” Her gaze didn’t waver. Locked onto mine like she was holding me there on purpose. “I’m used to handling everything myself. Used to falling and figuring it out alone. People don’t catch me.”

Something in her voice… stripped down and unfiltered, peeled back the layers she kept so damn tight. This woman wore her confidence like armor, but right now, she was showing me the pieces underneath, and trusting me not to break them.

“You’re making it sound like I’m the good guy,” I muttered, looking away, needing space from the way her mouth looked when she said real shit like that.

She leaned in before I could escape the moment, slow and unshaken. “I think you are.”

That laugh slipped out before I could stop it. It was dry, low, and laced with disbelief. I tipped my head back. “Sweetheart, I’m a lot of things.” I leaned in, close enough to feel the heat rolling off her skin, close enough to catch the vanilla and spice clinging to her like a secret. “But good ain’t one of them.”

She didn’t blink.

“Funny,” she said, her voice a whisper that curled around me, “because your actions are telling a whole different story.”

“It was nothing,” I said, rolling my shoulders back. “Just a reminder to keep your head up.”

Most people took what they needed from me and kept it pushing. No reciprocity, no warmth. But her? She didn’t just take. She saw me. And worse, she made me want to be seen.

Pride had been my armor for as long as I could remember. Worn smooth from years of use, polished enough to look like confidence instead of the self-preservation it really was. I’d built my life behind deals and survival. That armor kept me untouchable.

There’s nothing casual about the way she’s looking at me.

Those eyes… rich brown, steady and searching had a way of making a man forget every lie he ever told himself. That he was fine. That he didn’t need anyone. That softness was a liability.

“Nothing, huh?” she said, lips curving with just enough bite to sting. “Funny how the smallest things can feel like the biggest when they come from the right person.”

I swallowed hard, jaw tightening. She wasn’t just disarming me. She was rearranging me.

She didn’t have to ask for anything. Didn’t even lean in close. But somehow, she still had me wanting to give. Wanting to show up different.

That was the most dangerous part.

“You okay?” she asked, her voice cutting through the silence, soft but probing.

I blinked, pulling myself back to the present. She was watching me, head tilted slightly, brows pulled in just enough to show she noticed something most people would’ve missed.

“Yeah,” I said, tightening my jaw and brushing the thoughts away. “Why?”

Her gaze didn’t budge. “You went somewhere just now. It’s in your eyes.”

I exhaled through my nose, leaning a little heavier against the desk. “Didn’t sleep much.”

She arched a brow. “Doing what?”

The way she asked it—light, casual—but I caught it. That edge underneath. Like she was bracing for something she didn’t want to hear.

I let a smirk pull at the corner of my mouth. “Mafia movies.”

Her eyes narrowed just slightly. “Again?”

“My favorite one.” I paused, letting the moment stretch. “The Professional.”

There it was… that flicker.

Her mouth parted, then closed again. Her arms folded across her chest, but not defensive. Almost like she was bracing herself.

“I watched it,” she said finally, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

“You did?”

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