Too Close to Run

Ethan didn’t expect to see Kai Rivera again so soon.

He was already tense when the elevator doors slid shut behind him late morning, glass walls, steel and silence. The building hummed with quiet efficiency, the kind Ethan thrived in. Today, it barely registered.

Then the elevator lurched.

Lights flickered once. Twice.

And stopped.

A sharp jolt ran through the cabin before everything went still.

“Perfect,” Ethan muttered under his breath.

A second later, the silence was broken by a familiar voice far too calm, far too amused.

“Well,” Kai said lightly, “this feels intentional.”

Ethan turned slowly.

Kai stood against the opposite wall, hands tucked into his jacket pockets, camera slung over his shoulder like always as if fate itself hadn’t cornered them in a steel box barely large enough to breathe in. His eyes flicked over Ethan with unmistakable interest, lingering just a second too long.

“You work here?” Ethan asked, more sharply than intended.

Kai smiled. “Temporary contract. Creative department.” He paused. “Didn’t think you’d look happy to see me.”

“I wasn’t expecting you,” Ethan said.

“That’s never stopped you from thinking about me.”

Ethan stiffened. “You don’t know that.”

Kai tilted his head. “You didn’t deny it.”

Before Ethan could respond, the intercom crackled to life. A muffled voice explained the delaymaintenance issue, fifteen minutes minimum.

The doors stayed shut.

The space suddenly felt smaller.

Fifteen minutes. Alone. With him.

Ethan turned away, pressing a hand against the cool metal wall, breathing slowly. He could feel Kai’s presence like a physical weighttoo close, too aware. Every sound echoed: breath, fabric shifting, the soft click as Kai adjusted his camera strap.

“You always do that,” Kai said quietly.

“Do what?”

“Run. The moment something gets real.”

Ethan laughed, sharp and humorless. “You don’t know anything about what’s real for me.”

Kai stepped closer. Not touching but close enough that Ethan could feel heat radiating off him. “Then tell me.”

Silence stretched.

Ethan didn’t move. Didn’t turn around. His reflection stared back at him from the steel wall controlled, composed, and cracking.

“You think this is a game,” Ethan said finally. “Dropping into my life. Looking at me like that. Making assumptions.”

Kai’s voice softened. “I think you’re terrified of being seen.”

That did it.

Ethan turned, anger flaringreal, raw. “And I think you enjoy crossing lines.”

Kai didn’t flinch. “I enjoy honesty.”

“You don’t get to decide what I’m ready for.”

Kai’s jaw tightened, something darker flickering behind his eyes. “Funny. You didn’t say that last night.”

The memory hit Ethan like a punchthe rooftop, the closeness, the almost. His pulse spiked.

“And what about her?” Ethan shot back. “The woman at the café.”

Kai blinked, surprised. Then slowly, he smiledbut it wasn’t playful this time. “So you noticed.”

“I didn’t care,” Ethan said immediately.

“Liar.”

The word wasn’t cruel. It was quiet. Certain.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Kai continued. “She’s a friend. Someone who doesn’t expect me to be less than I am.”

The implication settled heavily between them.

“And you?” Kai asked. “What do you expect from me?”

Ethan opened his mouththen closed it again.

The truth hovered on the edge of his tongue, dangerous and exposed.

“I don’t expect anything,” he said instead.

Kai studied him for a long moment. “That’s the problem.”

The elevator hummed suddenly, lights flickering back to life. Movement jolted them both. Relief surged through Ethantoo fast, too sharp.

The doors slid open.

But neither of them moved.

“I’m not chasing you,” Kai said quietly. “But I won’t pretend I don’t want this.”

Ethan swallowed. “This isn’t ”

“I know,” Kai interrupted. “It’s complicated. Messy. And you’re scared.”

Ethan stepped past him, brushing Kai’s shoulderaccidentally. Or not.

Kai inhaled sharply.

The contact lingered, electric and unbearable.

Ethan paused at the threshold, heart pounding. Without turning back, he said, “If you keep pushing… you’re going to regret it.”

Kai’s voice followed him, low and unwavering. “I already don’t.”

Ethan walked out.

But his hands were shaking.

And for the first time, he wasn’t sure who he was running from or how long he could keep doing it before something broke.