Chapter 11: FLUSTERED AND CONFUSED.

   

          As I stepped out of Blake’s office, I let out a slow breath. The tension that had been sitting in my chest eased—just a little.

It had been a long day. Between Alan’s teasing, Blake’s unreadable moods, and the general weight of trying to prove myself in this house, I barely had time to think about anything else.

And then my stomach growled.

I blinked. Right. I hadn’t eaten.

Turning toward the kitchen, I made my way downstairs. The house was quiet now, the kind of silence that only settled in at night. The kitchen was empty, dimly lit by the small light above the stove. I quickly made myself a simple meal—nothing fancy, just enough to satisfy the growing hunger.

I ate in silence, enjoying the small moment of peace. No Blake. No Alan. Just me and my food.

Once I was done, I cleaned up after myself and headed upstairs to my room.

The second I sat on my bed, I let out a sigh of relief. My body ached, exhaustion creeping in, but my mind felt too awake.

Without thinking much about it, I reached for my laptop.

Writing had always been my escape, a place where I could control the story, unlike my life, which seemed to be spiraling into unexpected situations every day. As I opened my document, a familiar comfort settled over me.

And just like that, the world outside faded.

The only thing that existed was the story unfolding on the screen, my fingers flying across the keyboard. The words poured out, shaping characters, scenes, and emotions that had nothing to do with reality.

For the first time that day, I wasn’t thinking about Blake. Or Alan. Or whether or not I belonged here.

I was just writing.

Minutes turned into hours, though I wasn’t sure how many. The only thing that pulled me away was the dull ache in my eyes from staring at the screen for too long.

I glanced at the time. It was late. I should sleep.

Closing the laptop, I lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

And yet… sleep didn’t come.

I shifted, turning onto my side. Nothing.

I turned to the other side. Still nothing.

With a frustrated sigh, I sat up.

Maybe I just needed some water.

Slipping out of bed, I padded toward the door, quietly making my way down the hall. The house was still, but something about the silence felt heavier now.

As I stepped into the hallway, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I wasn’t as alone as I thought.

The house was quiet, but something about the silence felt off, like a presence lingered just out of sight.

I hesitated, glancing over my shoulder, but there was nothing. 

Shaking off the feeling, I forced myself forward. I was being ridiculous.

I finally made it to the kitchen, pouring a glass of water, trying to shake off whatever was making me not sleep.

Then I heard a voice.

"Couldn’t sleep?"

His voice came from behind me, smooth and unbothered. I turned, finding him leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over his bare chest, his black hair even messier than earlier. His toned muscles caught the dim light, the faint trace of his tattoo peeking from his right arm.

I swallowed. “Yeah.” almost choking on the water. Why did he choose to be shirtless 

He hummed, stepping into the dimly lit kitchen, his black eyes watching me too closely. “Let me guess. You’re overthinking.”

I stiffened. “Why would you think that?”

Alan smirked, coming closer—too close. He reached past me, grabbing a glass from the cabinet, his arm briefly brushing mine. I tensed at the contact, and of course, he noticed.

"Relax, sweetheart. I don’t bite."

I scoffed, taking a step back, needing distance. “Sure, you don’t.”

Alan chuckled, filling his glass with water. He took a sip before setting it down, his gaze never leaving mine.

"Is there a reason you're still awake? It’s pretty late," I asked.

"Yeah, I’m working. I don’t usually sleep early," he explained.

"Oh, that’s nice."

Curiosity got the best of me. "So… is it work for the company? Or something else?"

He took a slow sip of water, his expression unreadable. "Just business."

I frowned. "What kind of business?"

He smirked, tilting his head slightly. "Nothing you need to worry about, sweetheart."

Something about the way he brushed it off stung more than it should have. Did he not trust me? Or did he just not think I was important enough to know?

“So. Have you figured it out yet?” he changed the topic.

I frowned. “Figured what out?”

He tilted his head, studying me like he was waiting for something. “How to tell us apart.”

My breath hitched.

There it was.

The thing I hadn’t let myself think about since the moment I realized I had mistaken him for Blake.

I tried to play it off, giving him an unimpressed look. “Your hair is different.”

Alan let out a low chuckle. “That’s it?”

I folded my arms. “You also talk too much.”

He grinned. “Guilty.” Then, before I could react, he leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “But let’s be honest, sweetheart—you didn’t really look, did you?”

My heart pounded. “Excuse me?”

Alan’s smirk deepened. “You assumed. You saw what you wanted to see.”

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Because… he wasn’t entirely wrong, was he?

It was kind of weird—having someone who looked exactly like Mr. Blake flirting with me so blatantly. And the worst part? I couldn’t even complain. Because a part of me enjoyed every bit of it.

He took another step, closing the space I had just created. My back hit the counter.

“Tell me something,” he mused, his fingers brushing the rim of his glass. “If I didn’t say anything this morning, how long would it have taken you to realize?”

I swallowed. “I—”

“Would you have figured it out when you were already in my lap? Or later?”

I sucked in a sharp breath, my cheeks flaming. “That’s—”

“Relax,” he murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. “I’m just curious.”

I scowled, shoving past him. “You’re an ass.”

Alan only chuckled. “I know.”

I reached the doorway, but his next words made me pause.

“You can’t run from this forever, darling.”

I turned, narrowing my eyes. “What?”

He leaned against the counter, swirling the water in his glass, his smirk never faltering. “There’s tension between us, and we both know it. You can pretend all you want, but your body?” His gaze flickered over me, teasing. “Well, it’s not exactly helping your case.”

My stomach twisted. God, this man was infuriating. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, plus we just met.”

Alan’s eyes locked onto mine, something amusing flickering in their black depths.

“Yes, you do.”

And with that, he took another sip of water, acting like he hadn’t just thrown another match onto the fire.

I stared at him for a moment longer before shaking my head and leaving.

But as I climbed the stairs, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had just stepped into something dangerous.

Something I might not be able to walk away from.

The second I shut my bedroom door, I pressed my back against it, exhaling sharply. My heart was pounding—too fast, too hard.

What the hell was that?

I locked the door, as if that would somehow keep the tension out, and crossed the room in a daze. The second I hit the bed, I rolled onto my stomach, grabbing a pillow and shoving it over my face.

God.

My cheeks burned, my entire body felt too warm, too tight, like something inside me had been wound up and refused to loosen.

I had never felt this way before.

This… awareness. This heat.

I wasn’t lying when I told Alan I didn’t understand what he meant. I really didn’t. How could I, when I had never felt anything like this for anyone before? The way he looked at me, the way his voice dropped when he spoke—it did something to me. Something I didn’t have the words for.

And that scared me.

I turned onto my side, hugging my pillow, my mind still reeling.

Alan Hawthorne was dangerous.

Not in the way Blake was—with his sharp stares and controlled distance. Alan was a different kind of dangerous. The kind that slipped under your skin before you even realized it.

I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing myself to think about something else. Anything else.

But all I could see was the teasing glint in his beautiful black eyes.

The way he leaned in, the way his voice wrapped around me like silk, his bare skin against mine.

The way he made me feel things I didn’t understand.

I groaned, burying my face in my pillow, willing my mind to shut off.

Ugh! He was the brother to my boss!! All these shouldn't be happening.

It took a long time, but eventually, sleep found me.

And Alan was the last thing on my mind when it did....

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