Page 18 of My Billionaire Boss Crush

Blair enters the room, her presence always commanding attention. But today, her presence stirs up a mix of guilt and regret within me. I can't shake off the lingering weight of our briefly shared intimacy and the consequences that could have followed. So, I do what I think is necessary. I act cold and distant, a stark departure from the camaraderie we once shared.

I avoid eye contact, busying myself with the papers on my desk as if the weight of my gaze would betray the storm raging within me. I can sense her confusion, her concern, but I keep my guard up, unwilling to let her in.

I maintain this façade all day, responding curtly to her inquiries and keeping our interactions strictly professional. Each word I utter feels like a painful reminder of the walls I've erected, the distance I've created. I know it hurts her, and I ache at the sight of her questioning eyes, searching for a hint of the connection we shared on her couch just last night.

But I remind myself that this is for the best and that maintaining our professional boundaries is crucial for both our sakes. I can't risk everything we've built, jeopardizing not only our working relationship but also the fragile peace I've found within myself after Tianna.

As the day wears on, the weight of my distant behavior becomes harder to bear. I catch glimpses of Blair stealing glances in my direction, her eyes filled with a mixture of hurt and confusion. It cuts through me, the realization that I've unintentionally caused her pain. But I convince myself it's for the greater good, a necessary sacrifice to protect us both.

Finally, as the day comes to a close, I feel the weight of what I have to do bearing down on me. So, I wait until the very last minute, until she announces that she’s done with her work and starts to head downstairs to her desk before opening my mouth.

“Blair, wait…” I quickly call when her hand rests on the doorknob.

When she turns around, her gorgeous hair flipping behind her and her eyes holding a glimmer of hope and uncertainty, I curse myself for being the bastard that put those emotions there. Just when she was starting to become surer of herself in her working environment, I had made her the opposite with my attitude.

But it has to be done I remind myself.

Unable to stop myself, I rise to my feet and dip my hands in my pocket as I take a step around the desk and approach her. I stop when there’s about three feet of distance between us. “I’m transferring you to another department.” My words are met with utter silence, so I try again. “You will no longer be my personal assistant.”

Blair blinks once, twice, then her mouth drops open as if just comprehending what I said. “What?!” she asks, outrage dripping from her tone.

That one word… shatters me.

Chapter eleven

Reality Check-Blair

I lay in bed, my body enveloped by the warmth of the covers, remnants of a dream still lingering in my mind. It was a dream, a vivid, intoxicating vision, that felt so real, so achingly close to what I desired. The dream of us, Alex and I, finishing what we started last night and sharing a passionate and forbidden kiss.

In the dream, his touch ignited a fire within me, his lips capturing mine in a moment of raw intensity. The sensation was electric, a collision of desire and longing that left me breathless. I could feel the weight of his presence, the tenderness, and the depth of the connection we shared, even in the realm of dreams.

But as dreams often do, the fantasy shattered, abruptly disrupted by the blaring sound of my alarm. I groan, the remnants of that stolen moment fading away as I reluctantly emerge from the dream's embrace.

Reality settles in, the reality of our complicated situation, the boundaries that we have tried to respect. It's not just about professional ethics; it's about self-preservation, about guarding my heart against potential pain. The dream, as enticing as it was, served as a bittersweet reminder of the forbidden territory I find myself treading.

With a sigh, I swing my legs out of bed and reach over to silence the persistent alarm. The remnants of the dream clung to me like an invisible thread pulling at my thoughts. I can't deny the attraction, the magnetic pull between us, but I also can't ignore the complexities that surround our connection.

Not only is this man my boss, but he’s also twenty-three years older than me and a friend of my father’s. Getting involved with him romantically is out of the question.

As I go about my morning routine, the dream continues to echo in the recesses of my mind. It's a constant reminder of the unspoken desires that simmer beneath the surface. How do I reconcile the longing in my heart with the need to maintain professionalism and protect myself from potential heartache?

I push those thoughts aside, focusing on the practicalities of the day ahead. The dream was just that, a dream. And I can't let it cloud my judgment or distract me from my responsibilities.

I need to approach work with the same level-headedness and dedication as always, reminding myself of the boundaries we've established.

But deep down, a flicker of hope lingers. The hope is that, perhaps someday, the line between dreams and reality will blur, and we can explore the depths of our connection without fear or regret. Until then, I must navigate this delicate dance, balancing the desires of my heart with the realities of the world we live in.

By the time I’m done getting ready, I’m so drained from thinking about it all that I don’t even have the strength to chastise a pleading Jessica over the phone for standing me up last night. If she had shown up like we initially planned, I never would have gotten to see that side of Alex.

I would never have known the man who had been betrayed by the woman he chose to spend the rest of his life with, who loved his daughter fiercely and would do anything to make her happy. I would never have seen that spark of desire flaring in his eyes until he reined it in and walked away.

With a final glance at the mirror, I step out of my room, ready to face the day ahead, armed with the lingering memory of the dream, a reminder of what could be, a beacon of possibility in the face of the unknown.

The moment I take that elevator up to Alexander’s office, ready to start the day’s work, I can already sense the difference in the air. Still, I bravely turned that doorknob despite Freya’s subtle glace of warning and ducked in.

Several minutes later, I realize that I should have heeded Freya’s warning, even though I’m pretty sure Alex’s secretary has it in for me.

Alexander Graves is not in a good mood, and I can tell from the subtle change in his demeanor, the way his gaze avoids mine, and the tense lines that etch his face.

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