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Mateo’s footsteps came slow and heavy, each one making Silas’s pulse kick harder.

His smirk deepened, chest rising with anticipation.

This is it, Silas thought, heat curling through him. Big bad Mateo can never resist me. He’ll drop that mug and—

Mateo stopped at the side of the bed, looming over him. His eyes swept over Silas—his bare chest, his teasing smirk, the deliberate arch of his body. For a second, Silas swore he saw fire flicker there.

But then—

“Stop disturbing me,” Mateo said flatly, straightening, tone sharp but controlled. “I need to focus on making my tea.”

He turned on his heel and walked back toward the counter, not sparing Silas another glance.

Silas’s grin fell instantly, his face twisting into shock. He blinked, mouth half-open.

…What the fuck?

He flopped back onto the bed, groaning into the pillow, half-mortified, half-defeated. Rejected. By Mateo Woods. Over tea.

His brain screamed: This man is not human.

Mateo leaned against the counter, calm as stone, sipping his coffee slow.

His lips brushed the rim, the steam rising between them, eyes fixed out the window as if the world outside mattered more than the man writhing in his bed.

Silas narrowed his eyes. Oh no. He’s not getting away with this.

He shifted on the sheets again—loudly this time. Legs stretching, muscles flexing, the blanket slipping dangerously low down his hips.

He even let out a dramatic sigh, one hand dragging through his hair, the picture of temptation.

Mateo didn’t make any movement . Just another sip of coffee.

Silas sat up, biting his lip in frustration, then grabbed his phone, pretending to scroll. He gave a fake little laugh—too high, too obvious—like someone had just sent him the funniest meme.

Nothing. Mateo was the definition of unbothered.

“Ugh, you’re unbelievable,” Silas muttered, loud enough for him to hear. Then, just to be extra, he crawled across the bed slowly, deliberately, letting his boxers ride dangerously low, stretching like some damn model in a cologne ad.

Mateo finally turned his head.

Silas’s heart skipped. Yes! Victory—

But Mateo just raised a brow, sipped again, and said, “Careful, pretty boy. You’ll catch a cold parading around like that.”

Silas collapsed back dramatically, groaning into the pillow. “You’re impossible!”

Mateo smirked over the rim of his mug, hiding it well, but his eyes glinted with suppressed amusement. Exactly how long can you keep this up, Silas?

Silas dropped back against the pillows, throwing his arm over his face in defeat. His chest heaved with a long, frustrated sigh.

Fine. He wins.

The fight drained out of him, the teasing, the games. His smirk slipped away, leaving only the ache gnawing inside.

He has every fucking right to stay mad, Silas admitted to himself, throat tight. I lied. I walked out. I pushed him away. If it were me, I’d be furious too.

But that didn’t soften the emptiness curling in his stomach.

His fingers clenched the sheets, his eyes squeezed shut. Still… I feel incomplete like this. Like something’s missing. Like I can’t breathe right if he doesn’t…

A shaky breath escaped him, almost a plea. I can’t leave without his touch. Just one touch, Mateo. Even if it’s nothing. Even if it’s just a pat on the head. Please.

The room stayed quiet except for the faint clink of Mateo’s cup against the counter.

Silas stayed still, silently begging for something—anything—that would tell him Mateo hadn’t shut him out completely.

Mateo sat in his desk by the bedside one hand resting lazily on the desk while the other nursed yet another cup of coffee.

The video meeting ran smoothly—with his colleagues

Then, mid-discussion, one of his partners chuckled through the screen.
“Business aside, Mateo… you’re the man with all the charm. Tell me—what’s the perfect surprise for a girlfriend? I need ideas.”

Mateo leaned back in his chair, lips curving into that devastating smirk. He didn’t even hesitate.
“Easy,” he said smoothly. “A night where she doesn’t lift a finger. I’d cook for her—something she loves. Then I’d run her a hot bath, pour her wine, kiss her until she forgets what day it is. And when she finally falls asleep…” His voice dipped, rougher now, “…I’d hold her all night like she’s the only thing in the world that matters.”

The partners laughed, some clapping, one muttering, “No wonder women fall at your feet, Woods.”

But Mateo wasn’t joking. His smirk softened. “When you love someone, you don’t need diamonds to prove it. Just make sure she never doubts she’s yours.”

What he didn’t know—Silas who pretended to be deep asleep was eavesdropping arms crossed, ears burning and listening.

His chest twisted. Girlfriend? His jaw tightened, his heart a mess of jealousy and fury. The fuck is he talking about like that? Saying all that shit with so much conviction—like he’s rehearsed it. Like it’s meant for someone else.

Silas bit down on his lip hard, trying to swallow the heat rising in him. His fingers curled into fists. You bastard, Mateo Woods. Who the hell are you saying that for if not me?

The laughter on the call didn’t die down—it only got louder. One of the older men leaned closer to his webcam, wagging his brows.

“Hold on now, Woods,” he teased. “That was too perfect. You hiding something from us? Do you have a girlfriend?”

Another chimed in, grinning wide. “Yeah, c’mon, who’s the lucky girl getting spoiled like that, huh? Don’t tell me you’ve been keeping her a secret from us.”

Mateo’s smirk deepened, his eyes half-lidded, voice dropping into that smooth, velvet tone that always turned heads.
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he murmured, deliberately vague, but the softness in his expression gave him away.

The men whistled and laughed, one even groaning, “Of course Woods has someone. Only a woman could make a man talk like that.”

Mateo chuckled, leaning back in his chair, one hand resting against his mouth as if savoring a private thought. “Let’s just say…” He paused, his eyes darkening.“…she’s one of a kind. And I don’t share.”

The meeting exploded with good-natured teasing, everyone demanding details.

Silas’s jaw dropped. His blood rushed hot, his face burning with a mix of rage and—God help him—embarrassment.

One of a kind? Don’t share? Silas’s chest heaved, heart pounding. That better fucking mean me, Woods. Because if you’re out here confessing to having a secret girlfriend, I swear I’ll—

He bit down on his lip, so jealous he could scream. His fingers twitched with the urge to kick the door laptop and announce himself.