I could blame the first night we spent together on shock and alcohol. The second on sheer curiosity. But this shit, this deep need to watch her, to touch her, to have her? There’s no fucking excuse for it.

I stare at the computer screen mindlessly. The office is empty, and even Liam’s gone home, leaving me here alone with simple tasks that should have already been done.

I have to audit this inventory and compare the replacement materials. It’s crucial for the budget that this works, and I need to make the decision today.

But I really just don’t give a fuck. I want all this to stop so I can hit pause. Instead I’m falling down a black pit, forced to make a choice of what will happen when I crash at the bottom.

Every penny is accounted for and spent, except for this last purchase. All of it is for one massive project. And all of it I owe to my father.

I sit forward in my chair, hitting the mouse to my computer and it lights the screen up once again. Two gorgeous blue eyes stare back at me. Her long thick lashes frame them perfectly. Her skin is flawless with only a hint of color in her cheeks. But it’s her expression that had me staring at her all morning. Her lips are parted as if she’s about to smile. So close to happiness, but the photo caught her before she reached that point.

It’s only been two days since I’ve seen her, but each night I’ve felt a compulsion to message her and make sure I knew right where she was. I really wanted to make sure she wasn’t with someone else. That’s the truth of the matter. I trust her when she says she’s not fucking someone else, but I know what loneliness can do to a person. And I want her all to myself.

If I just pretend like none of the shit before I met Jules happened, then there isn’t a damn thing wrong with what’s going on. If only it were that easy to forget.

Knock. Knock.

My gaze lifts to the clock on the wall and then to the door to my office. It’s past 8 p.m. and almost time to meet Jules.

“Who is it?” I ask, not knowing who the hell it could be. Maintenance, maybe?

“Your partner in crime,” Liam says from the other side of the door, and I relax slightly.

“Come on in,” I yell out to him, clicking on my phone and seeing a text from Jules. She’s waiting for me. The very thought spreads a warmth through my chest.

I set the phone down, giving Liam my full attention although I have no idea why the fuck he’s here.

“You seem preoccupied?” Although it’s a statement, it comes out as a question. Before I can even think about it, Liam’s eyes are on the computer screen.

It’s an innocent glance, but he doesn’t need to see her. More importantly, he doesn’t need to know about my new obsession. I’m quick to exit out of the article of Jules. It was about her husband's passing and how she was dealing with the loss. Although the picture they used of her was from years before.

I’ve read dozens of articles in the last few days. They’re all the same. Every single one of them ooh and aah over her. They put her on a pedestal and in such a delicate place that it’s far too easy for her to crash and burn.

And in some cases she did. The one fucking image I can’t get out of my head is the one of her crying at her husband’s funeral. Maybe they showed mercy by using an older photo for that article, because on the day she buried him she looked as if she’d died herself.

I take in a deep breath, willing the memory to go away. Wishing I’d never seen it.

“Well now,” Liam says, ignoring my irritation. “Is this-”

“What are you doing here?” I ask, cutting him off and leaning back in my chair with my shoulders squared. He’s still standing and leaning against the desk casually, but my tone has that fucking smile vanishing instantly.

He rubs the back of his neck, raising his brow and looking beyond me and out of the window as he takes a step back. “I was just wondering if you’d put the final numbers in.”

I clear my throat, feeling like an absolute prick. “Sorry, it’s been a tense day.” I roll my shoulders, stretching my sore muscles and click on the spreadsheet. “I was just getting ready to put them in.”

“So it’s all finalized?” Liam asks with a chipper smile, seeming to forget I’m a fucking prick just like that.

“So far, so good.” I force a smile and try to shake off the unease flowing through me. I can’t explain the dichotomy of how I think of Jules. I want to take her out, impress her and please her in every way, include showing her off and showing off for her. But I want it to be my secret. I don’t want anyone close to me to have an idea of what’s going on between us.

It’s a design for failure. I can’t fucking help what I want though.

He claps his hands once and says, “Perfect. That’s all I wanted to know.” He raises his hands in defense as he starts to walk away, but then he looks back at me. The curiosity in his eyes asks to pry.

“What?” I ask him, my heart beating loudly in my chest. I don’t know if I should deny whatever question he has about Jules. Everything in me is screaming to deny it all. I can never let anyone know.

“So… Julia Summers?” the prick has the balls to ask me.

I let out a deep breath and nod my head once. I can’t help that I feel a sense of pride as his cocky smile widens. He twists the wedding band around his finger and nods his head.

“Well now, I guess I can forgive you for being such an irritable fuck lately.”

“Watch it,” I say under my breath but the smile on my face only leads him on.

“Good for you,” he says and looks back at the screen, but it’s only a spreadsheet of boxes and numbers. “So is it serious?” he asks, and I don’t know why. He’s never asked me before about who I’m fucking or dating, for that matter.

He answers the unasked question. “You just seem very preoccupied recently.”

I move my seat closer to the desk, stretching my back and then shrugging, doing my best to appear casual. “Just a lot on my mind,” I say.

He waits for a moment, expecting more, but I return to the spreadsheet. “I’ll have it done before I leave,” I tell him, giving him a tight smile and ending the conversation.

He leaves quietly, merely waving a goodbye and letting the door shut with a loud click, filling the empty room on his way out.

I look up when it’s closed and tap the pen against the desk. I don’t know what to deny, what to keep secret. I can’t confuse the two, but the lines are already blurred.