Jamie

Chapter Five — Jamie

Jamie felt it before he saw it.

That heat. That shift in the air. Like a static current crawling under his collar every time Julian passed too close or looked for too long.

He didn’t catch Julian staring.

Not exactly.

But he felt it.

Like a hand pressed to the small of his back. Barely there. Unseen, but undeniable.

The first few days had been torture. Jamie spent them hunched at his desk, doing everything in his power to appear normal—typing too fast, rereading the same lines in emails, forgetting how to hold a damn pencil.

He’d avoided Julian’s office like it was radioactive. Which wasn’t hard, since Julian mostly kept to himself—doors closed, face unreadable, voice cool in meetings.

Professional. Polished. Detached.

But Jamie knew what it looked like when that control slipped.

He’d seen it. Felt it.

Felt the way Julian’s jaw had flexed when Jamie had moaned into his mouth. Felt his fingers press deeper. Rougher. The sharp, low sound he’d made when Jamie gasped for more.

And now they were pretending none of it happened.

Except… they weren’t pretending very well.

---

It was Thursday when everything shifted.

Jamie had stayed late to finish revisions on a product launch campaign. Most of the floor had emptied by six, but Jamie liked the silence. It helped him focus.

He hadn’t realized Julian was still there.

Not until a voice spoke behind him.

“You're still here?”

Jamie flinched, turned, and nearly knocked over his water bottle.

Julian stood a few feet away, sleeves rolled again, tie loosened. He looked tired. Or maybe worn thin in a way Jamie didn’t know how to read.

“Yeah,” Jamie said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Just… cleaning up the wireframes for Monday’s review.”

Julian nodded, but didn’t move.

Didn’t leave.

Jamie waited. The silence stretched too long. He reached for his mouse. “I can send them to you before I leave, if you want—”

“Actually,” Julian interrupted, voice low, “I was hoping you could go over them with me now. I’ve got time.”

Jamie swallowed. “Now?”

“Only if you don’t mind.” Julian’s tone was smooth, unreadable. “You’re the one who designed them. I’d rather see the work from your perspective.”

Jamie hesitated.

Then nodded.

“Sure,” he said. “Yeah. Okay.”

He stood, grabbing his laptop, and followed Julian into the glass-walled office that had haunted his dreams all week.

---

Julian held the door open and let it shut with a quiet click behind them. Jamie sat across from him, heart hammering, trying not to stare at Julian’s forearms as he folded them over the desk.

He opened the file. “So, this is the new landing page iteration…”

Julian leaned in, watching.

Jamie clicked through slides.

Spoke. Explained. Pointed things out.

Julian asked thoughtful questions. Took his time. Said “go back to that last one” more than once.

But as the minutes passed, the air between them changed.

It wasn’t just professional anymore.

Jamie could feel it.

The weight of Julian’s eyes on his mouth when he spoke. The way their fingers brushed when Jamie passed the laptop across the desk. The way Julian’s voice dropped when he said “good work.”

And when Jamie closed the presentation and looked up, Julian didn’t speak.

He just looked at him.

And kept looking.

Jamie’s chest rose and fell.

His voice came out quieter than he meant. “This is a bad idea.”

Julian’s jaw clenched.

“I know.”

But he didn’t look away.

And neither did Jamie.