Two

Keira arrived at the Hotel and approached the front desk, placing the neatly stacked project files on the counter. 

Oddly, the receptionist was nowhere to be seen. She glanced around, then up at the wall clock hanging above the desk. Shift change? Bathroom break? She wondered. Either way, she didn’t have time to stand around waiting.

She sighed, tapping her fingers against the counter. She could just leave the files here and be done with it. But then again… what if they got misplaced? What if the receptionist didn’t return in time?

She sighed and made her way toward one of the waiting chairs but hesitated mid-step. Her gaze flickered toward the elevators.

“I should just deliver them myself. That’s more responsible, right?” She thought to herself, it seemed completely professional and not at all because she was curious about her boss who needed these documents so urgently.

With that thought, she turned and strode toward the elevator, pressing the button for the 18th floor. As the doors slid shut, she exhaled, bracing herself.

This was strictly business. A quick drop off, then back home before her mother decided to send out a search party for her.

The elevator dinged, and she stepped into the quiet hallway, her heels muffled by the plush carpet. Suite 1803 was at the very end. She walked up, raised a fist, and knocked twice on the door.

But all that followed was silence.

Keira frowned. Maybe he wasn’t in. She knocked again, shifting the files in her arms.

As she waited for a response, her eyes flickered to a nearby reflective surface—and her stomach dropped.

“Darn it. I forgot to change.”

Panic bubbled in her chest. She had been in such a rush to escape the event that she was still in the evening gown her mother had forced her into. Not the professional look for delivering documents to her boss.

Just as she turned to leave, the door suddenly swung open—abruptly, almost clumsily.

Her boss stood in the doorway, his tie loosened, his sleeves messily rolled up, and—was that whiskey she smelled?

His usually sharp gaze was unfocused and his posture was slightly unsteady.

Keira blinked. “Oh, great. He’s drunk.”

Of all the things she had expected tonight, this was not one of them.

Keira barely had a second to react before he grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the room, the door clicking shut behind them.

Her heart lurched. “Sir, I was just asked to drop this off for your business mee—”

“Are you the one who did this to me?” His voice was low and unsteady.

Keira swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of how small the space felt. “Sir, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I was just told to bring these documents—nothing more.”

He pressed a hand to his temple, exhaling sharply. “I feel… terrible,” he muttered, his voice thick, sluggish. “Like my head is full of static.” His eyes flicked back to hers, filled with something between suspicion and desperation. “Someone put something in my drink.”

Keira’s stomach dropped. “Drugged?”

She set the files on the nearest table, her instincts shifting from wary to alert. “Are you sure?”

Letting his sleepy eyes stare directly at her’s, he let out a dry, humorless laugh. “I know what being drunk feels like. This isn’t it.” He staggered closer to her, placing his hand on the wall above her head to steady himself. “I don’t even remember how I got here.”

Her chest tightened. Casper always looked attentive and intimidating. But right now? He looked vulnerable. He looked sexy. 

And despite every rational thought screaming at her to step away, she didn’t.

Because for years, she had harbored feelings for him.

Ever since middle school, when she had been the fat ugly girl everyone bullied—until the day Casper stood up for her. He might not remember her, might not recall that moment at all, but she did. It was the day she started liking him.

The day he became more than just a crush.

She had spent years transforming herself, working her way into his world. And now, standing here with his body inches from hers, she did the one thing she knew she shouldn’t.

She reached for him, fingers curling around the loosened collar of his shirt.

“And I really hope you don’t remember this, Casper,” she whispered.

Then she pulled him down and kissed him. He was warm.

That was the first thing Keira registered when his lips pressed against hers. He was warm and soft.

Her breath hitched at the realization.

She had meant for this to be quick, something he wouldn’t even remember the next morning. But instead of pulling away, Casper kissed her back, crushing his face into hers.

His fingers curled into the surprisingly thin fabric of her gown, his other hand bracing against the wall behind her. The heat of his body, the scent of whiskey and his already hardening member, overwhelmed her senses.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Keira’s mind scrambled to make sense of it, but her body betrayed her. She ran her hands over his shirt feeling his muscles beneath. 

Then, just as suddenly as it started, reality crashed back into her and she quickly wrenched away, her breathing uneven. “Casper—”

His grip on her waist tightened slightly before loosening, his brows knitting together in confusion. His pupils were dilated and his expression was unfocused.

Keira’s pulse thundered. He’s drugged. He doesn’t even know what he’s doing.

“You have to sit down,” she said, guiding him toward the couch before she did something even stupider. “I need to figure out what’s in your system.”

Casper let her push him down onto the cushions, his weight nearly dragging her down with him. But just as she started to pull away, his grip tightened around her wrist.

Keira barely had a second to react before he gave a sharp tug, and suddenly, she fell right into him.

She landed against his chest, her breath catching as his arms circled around her, holding her in place. 

“Casper—” she started, but the words died in her throat when his hands traced up her back slowly.

He flipped her over effortlessly, his face exploring the crook of her neck. “You’re warm,” he murmured, his voice husky. His lips were dangerously close to her ear. “Soft… Peaches…” 

She had spent years wanting him. Years chasing his shadow, reshaping herself into someone worthy of standing in his space. And now he was here—touching her, kissing her, wanting her back.

Even if it wasn’t real, even if he wouldn’t remember in the morning, it was worth everything to her.

Casper’s lips moved to her jaw, then lower, grazing the sensitive skin of her throat. She let out a shaky breath, as his fingers found her already hardened nipples while her hands grabbed a fistful of his hair.

She pulled him back to her, crashing her lips to his, her fingers already working open the buttons of his shirt. If this was a mistake, she didn’t mind making it. At least just this once. Just for tonight.

Because after this, she would go back to being his employee. His nobody.

But for now—just for now—she would let herself have this.