I KISSED MY BOSS

Evan’s POV;The kiss was still on my lips.Or at least, it felt that way.I bolted out first, trying to walk like a normal human being and not like someone who had just swapped saliva next to a sink. I didn’t look back. I Couldn’t. If I did, I might’ve dragged him back in there and missed my flight for round two.As I sped walked toward the gate, I realized I couldn’t even remember his name.It was like a one-night stand, except with more…mouth.I found my gate, grabbed my suitcase, scanned my boarding pass, and walked onto the plane still dazed. The flight attendant smiled at me, but I probably looked like I’d been struck by lightning. Sexy, airport-bathroom lightning.I found my seat; the middle seat and collapsed into it, one deep breath away from a complete existential crisis.And then?He sat down next to me and I nearly jumped out of my skin.Of all people.I blinked at him. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”Hazel Eyes. Killer jaw. Coffee-stained shirt (now mostly dry). The Gree

Evan’s POVEveryone filed out of the conference room in the same stiff, work-appropriate formation that all corporate workers seem to naturally adopt, chairs scraping, laptops closing, a few murmured greetings to the new manager.The conference room was almost empty.Almost.But I stayed seated. Slower than slow. Pretending to organize my notebook. Reorganize. Zip it up. Unzip it again. I even gave Dennis the classic “go ahead, I’ll catch up” nod, which he returned with a curious glance before disappearing into the hallway.And then we were alone.The room felt too quiet, too tight. The soft hum of the air vent overhead was the only sound between us.My knees felt locked, heart still thudding in my ears as Blake Thatcher: Hazel Eyes, Coffee Shirt, Bathroom Kisser Extraordinaire, stood at the front of the room like nothing had happened.Like he hadn’t once pressed me against a sink and kissed me like he’d die if he didn’t.He looked… calm. Focused. Professional. The picture of compos

Evan’s POV;There was a very judgmental silence after my name was called.No polite clapping this time. Just the sound of my heart doing backflips inside my chest while my face tried but probably failed to stay professionally neutral.I’m sure my face was giving surprised goldfish instead of neutral.Blake didn’t look at me again. He just calmly folded the paper like he didn’t just drop crazy information on us.“The final member of the team is Mr. Evan Johnson,” he repeated smoothly, and the crowd began to murmur like my stunned expression wasn’t a clear protest to this injustice. “He will be observing and assisting as part of our internal development program. As you know, our firm is committed to fostering inclusive training opportunities, especially for newer staff members. He’ll be shadowing various aspects of the process.”Inclusive.That word hit my pride like a brick. It felt like being handed paper cutlery in a fancy restaurant after you tripped on air and bumped into a waite

Evan's POV;I went home swearing vengeance.You know that thin line between love and hate?I've crossed it.Blake Thatcher was now my sworn enemy. My nemesis. A literal comic book villain in business casual. Blake was the Voldemort to my emotionally fragile Harry Potter.I shoved open my bedroom drawer and furiously began sorting socks, like organizing ankle-length cotton could somehow restore justice to the universe.“Who the hell says ‘You’re the moron that fell in love after one kiss’ and just walks away like that?” I muttered to a pink sock with a hole in it.“Sociopaths. That’s who.”Before I could rearrange my socks with grudge filled intensity into color orders, my doorbell rang. I stomped out to open it.Hailey breezed in, holding a boba tea and her keys in her her hand. “You sounded dramatic on text. What happened? Tell me everything.”I proceeded to tell her everything. She laughed so hard while I just turned different shades of red.I kicked the side of the couch we were s

Evan's POV;I don’t remember walking to the elevator.What I do remember is the way Blake’s breath felt against my cheek right before he kissed me. The tremble and sincerity in his voice when he said he liked me. I couldn’t stop fucking smiling.I tried. I really did. I bit my lip on the elevator ride down. I cleared my throat five times walking past the front desk. I even looked into my reflection on the building’s glass doors and said, “Chill, Evan. Act normal.”But the second I stepped outside, the smile broke through again, like the sun forcing its way into the crowd.Blake Thatcher kissed me.And it wasn’t a panicked or an accidental kiss like. It was deliberate. Filled with unspoken words and emotions.It didn’t matter that the lights had come on or that we had to snap out of it and pretend to be coworkers again. The part where he said, “I like you, Evan.” kept looping in my brain like a broken record with perfect timing.He said goodnight in that soft, unguarded tone of his