Chapter 138: Hundred and Thirty Eight

After leaving, Declan texted me that he would love to do this again soon. He asked if he can drive me to work the next morning, and I agreed. We got coffee on the way but still reached early. We were doing a presentation together today. In the conference room, he sat far away from me. By nine a.m., the long table was already littered with notepads, laptops, and the remains of a pastry box.

I sat near the front, my notes neatly stacked, my pen poised. Beside me, Declan leaned back in his chair. He was infuriatingly calm, one ankle resting over his knee, jacket slung over the back of the chair. I was a little panicky because this was a big project.

I liked working with him. It didn’t feel awkward anymore. But instead, it felt… right. Familiar, in the way muscle memory is familiar. Like riding a bike after years away.

Ms Bergess sat down on her seat with a thud. “Alright, let’s get started. Willow and Declan, you’ve been working on the outreach initiative. Floor’s yours.”

I stood, gathering my papers. Declan rose at the same time, and without even looking at each other, we moved toward the projector screen. Our steps fell into sync, our bodies in a familiar rhyth, as though no time had passed.

I began. “Our goal was to design a strategy that could expand community engagement, specifically in the underrepresented wards.”

Declan picked up seamlessly. “And to do that, we’ve mapped existing networks, both formal and informal. The trick is finding where those pathways already exist, rather than building from scratch.”

I clicked through the slides. “Exactly. If you look at this chart,”

“...you’ll see that the community leaders aren’t who you’d expect,” Declan finished, gesturing to the screen before I even had to explain.

There was a murmur around the table, colleagues scribbling notes. We continued like that for twenty minutes, with me laying the foundation, him expanding on it; him throwing out a detail, me tying it back to the bigger picture. It was almost eerie, how natural it felt. We hadn’t even rehearsed.

Halfway through, I realized I wasn’t reading from my notes anymore. I didn’t need to. His rhythm matched mine, his timing exact. Our eyes met across the table more than once.

When the presentation ended, the room was quiet for a beat. Then someone let out a low whistle.

“Wow,” Ashley said. “You two sound like you’ve done this for years.”

Heat rushed up my neck. I ducked my head quickly, shuffling my papers. “We’ve both had… practice,” I managed.

Ms Bergess agreed. “You two make a great team. Its sad Declan will be leaving soon.”

Declan smiled, nodding slightly. “It is, I’ve loved working here,” he said lightly. “Especially with Willow.”

The words weren’t incriminating, not really. But they lingered, warm and weighted, and my chest tightened with the memory of all those nights long ago. All those years ago.

Ms Bergess gave a brisk nod. “Excellent work. This is exactly the clarity we need. Good job, both of you.”

We slipped back into our seats, colleagues still whispering. I tried to focus on the next agenda item, but my pulse was loud in my ears. Declan leaned forward, elbows resting on the table, and the corner of his mouth lifted. It was the tiniest smile, meant only for me.

I smiled back, my skin feeling like it was on fire.

By the time the meeting wrapped up, my body was buzzing like I’d had three cups of coffee too many. People filtered out into the hall, chattering about work, but Declan lingered.

“Need a break?” he asked, low, his voice soft.

“I’m fine,” I lied, gathering my things too quickly.

He tilted his head, that infuriatingly knowing look in his eyes. “Come on.”

Before I could protest, he was already leading the way down the corridor. Past cubicles, past the photocopier and the water cooler.

The office restroom was empty. He quietly got in, looking back, expecting me to follow. I slipped in after him, shutting the door with a quiet click.

“Declan.” I whispered, “What are we -”

I couldn’t finish, because he was already so close. Too close. His body blocked mine against the sink, our skin almost touching. His eyes searched mine, dark and steady, asking without words.

I didn’t need to answer..

Our mouths collided in a kiss that was far from polished. It was desperate, too fast, teeth clashing before we found the rhythm. My hand fisted in his shirt, dragging him closer, and he groaned against my lips, the sound vibrating straight through me.

His hand slid up my arm, cupping the back of my neck, tilting my face so he could deepen the kiss.

I melted into him, everything else slipping away. It was just me and him. There was only this: the taste of him, the way he fit against me, the heat of his body pressing against mine. When we broke apart, both of us were breathing hard, foreheads pressed together.

“Not very professional,” I whispered, trying to catch my breath.

His grin was wicked, but his voice was soft. “Best meeting I’ve had in years.”

I laughed, helpless and shaky, pressing a hand to his chest to steady myself. His heart was hammering, just like mine.

For a long moment, we just stood there, tangled in silence. No words could capture what was brimming between us. The relief, the danger, the sheer inevitability of it.

Then, reluctantly, I stepped back. Straightened my blouse. Tried to pretend I hadn’t just made out with a colleague.

“We should…” I gestured vaguely toward the door. “Get back.”

“Yeah.” He smoothed his shirt, but his eyes didn’t leave mine. “But Willow?”

I swallowed. “What?”

His smile softened, but his eyes were filled with a fire. “I’m going to fuck you in here, soon.”

“Oh.”

I nodded, too shaken to answer. He lightly took my hand, kissing my palm. He slipped out before me. I had to take a moment to study myself.