Chapter 14
May 30, 2025
Celene’s POV…
I was still pulling out the last of my earpiece when Damon walked up beside me.
“You want a drink?” he asked, his voice low and steady, like it was no big deal. But something in his eyes made it feel like he was testing me.
I looked up, caught off guard. “A drink?” His tie was loosened just enough to make him look a little less polished, a little more… real.
He nodded once, like the idea was already settled. “One glass. To the best press moment this company’s had in a decade.”
I still didn’t trust him, but I didn’t want to kill the vibe either. “Fine,” I said, keeping it casual. “But only one.”
The executive lounge was dead quiet, the low hum of the music playing in the background, the lights dim enough to make everything feel a little softer. He poured two glasses of red wine, no questions asked, just a practiced hand. It didn’t feel pushy, just… like he knew me better than I wanted him to.
We didn’t sit across from each other. Instead, we sank down side by side on the long velvet couch. Close enough that our elbows brushed every time one of us moved. His shoulder pressed against mine, warm, like he was trying to settle into the same space I was already in. The air felt thicker here, quieter. And his voice, when he spoke again, was lower, softer.
“I meant it earlier,” he said, swirling his wine like he had all the time in the world. “You were flawless today.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You’re complimenting me now? Are we about to die?”
He huffed a laugh, a little too sharp, like he was holding something back. “I’m evolving. Don’t ruin it.”
I couldn’t help it. I smiled, just a little, and he caught it.
“What?” he asked, eyes still on me, like he was waiting for something.
“I didn’t expect this,” I said, leaning back a little, my voice easy. “You and me. Laughing. Drinking wine. Not at each other’s throats for once.”
He turned toward me, a little more than before, but not enough to close the gap. “Funny thing,” he said, voice almost thoughtful. “For months, I thought if you weren’t around, things would be easier.”
I tilted my head, curious despite myself. “And now?”
He didn’t answer right away. Just stared into his glass, like he was choosing his words carefully. Then he met my gaze, steady. “Now I keep thinking… if not you, then who?”
That hit harder than I wanted it to. My chest tightened, and for a second, I couldn’t breathe right. He saw it, of course. Damon always saw more than he let on.
He didn’t give me a chance to dodge the question. “What would you have done, if I hadn’t stood in your way?”
I didn’t flinch. Didn’t hesitate. “Taken your job.”
He smiled at that, but not in that usual smug way. It was a real smile. Something… softer. “I believe you,” he said quietly.
I looked down at my wine, suddenly aware of how close his leg was to mine. It was almost too close, but I didn’t move.
“I don’t regret standing my ground,” I murmured, more to myself than to him. “But I regret thinking I had to fight you instead of… figuring out what this could’ve been.”
He turned toward me then, eyes locking with mine like he wasn’t sure what to say, but couldn’t stop himself from saying it anyway. The silence between us was thick, too thick. It pulled us closer, and I could feel it in the way he leaned in just a fraction more, like we were both about to cross some invisible line.
Then, he moved first.
I didn’t stop him. My hand was already resting on the cushion between us, and our fingers brushed—once, twice—like we were both still trying to decide if we were going to ruin everything or finally give in.
His lips were so close, I could feel the heat of his breath.
I closed my eyes. And then— buzz.
The phone. That damn phone.
We both jerked back like the couch had burned us. Damon cleared his throat and sat up straighter, running a hand through his hair, like he needed the air just to breathe. I couldn’t look at him, couldn’t even look at my own hands because they were shaking, betraying me.
The music played on, but it was just background noise now. The silence between us was the loudest thing in the room.
I stared down at my lap, trying to steady my breath, but nothing felt steady anymore. Nothing about this was strategic. Nothing about it felt like we were playing games. That… thing that almost happened? It wasn’t a strategy. It was personal. And that scared both of us more than I was willing to admit.
But it was there. Between us. Unsaid, but there.
And neither of us was ready to face it. Not yet.
