Page 155 of I See You

“She’s not,” Hassan cut her off, low and sharp. That shut Harper up.

“Damn,” she finally said. “She must be real special.” “Is that all?” he asked, already done with the convo. “Pretty much. Who is—”

He hung up before she could finish the sentence.

No way in hell he was about to admit he was calling to get advice on how to apologize to Sevyn. Her best friend. But now that he had what he needed, he grabbed his keys, left his office, and went to get the one thing that might make Sevyn talk to him again.

She was worth the risk. And he was about to prove it.

???

Sevyn sat in her office, trying to shake the exhaustion and the lingering effects of last night. Her second client had just left, and she was more than a little hungover after drinking too much with Dorian. What started as venting turned into a confessional about Hassan— how she let herself get vulnerable, how he made her feel, and how she felt stupid afterward when he left like she was just another body.

The alcohol was supposed to numb her. Instead, it made her miss him more.

His touch still lingered on her skin. His voice still echoed in her head. His absence screamed louder than anything else in the room.

She kicked off her heels, making her way to the couch. She had an hour before her next session and figured a quick nap might keep her from spiraling. Sleep was better than sitting in her thoughts, because when she sat still, it was always him she thought about.

But just as she got comfortable, just as her body started to relax, her office phone rang. She sat up with a sigh, preparing to ignore it— until the door burst open.

And there he was.

Hassan. Tall. Cold. Intense.

He stood there with a bouquet of deep emerald green roses in one hand and a Cartier bag in the other. And just like that, the air in the room changed.

"I'msorry,Sev—"Micahstarted,hervoicealittlebreathless, maybeeven shaken.

Sevyn didn’t even look at Hassan. Her eyes went straight to Micah. “It’s fine, Micah. Did he make an appointment?”

Her voice was calm but clipped, her energy locked down. She refused to acknowledge him, refused to feed whatever this was.

“No, he—”

“I’m not making no fuckin’ appointment, Sevyn,” Hassan snapped, his voice low and laced with ice.

“Just give us the room,” Sevyn cut in, exhaling slowly. “Everything’s good.”

Micah nodded and slipped out quickly, relief washing over her face as she avoided the weight of Hassan’s presence and the thick tension swallowing the room.

Now it was just them. Her on edge. Him standing there in silence, holding apologies in the form of gifts she wasn’t ready to accept.

And she still wouldn’t look at him.

“What do you want, Hassan?” Sevyn said, standing and walking back to her desk.

She was trying to hold her ground, but seeing him in that black Moncler collar shirt, fitted jeans, and clean black shoes made her breath hitch. His presence always did this to her—set her on fire and froze her all in the same breath. And now, she hated that it still had that effect.

“Why you been ignoring me, Sevyn?” he asked, stepping forward. Sevyn leaned against her desk, arms crossed tight over her chest, posture screaming defiance even as her pulse betrayed her. His eyes drifted down the length of her body, lingering on the curve of her hips intheskin-tightpurplemaxidress,thenbackuptohereyesashe licked his lips.

She felt the shiver crawl down her spine but didn’t let it show.

“If you didn’t make an appointment with Micah, then we have nothing to talk about,” she said flatly.

She pushed off the desk, headed toward her chair—only to stop cold when she felt him at her back. Close. Too close. His breath ghosted down her neck, and she hadn’t even heard him move. The chill of his presence had her frozen.

Stand your ground, Sevyn.

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