2. This isn’t flirting.

I looked at him, trying to regain control of the situation, but it was useless. John watched me with that same mix of arrogance and amusement he always wore, like he’d just won the lottery.

The egotistical bastard knew exactly what he was doing.

“You haven’t said a word. Was it that bad?” he asked, tilting his head with a smile that screamed, I know you loved it.

“What makes you think I’m not just processing your complete lack of respect for my personal space?” I shot back, crossing my arms. There. Back to my tough stance. All under control.

“Oh, come on. You kissed me back.” John leaned in, studying me like I was some riddle he was dying to solve. “And, I’ll tell you, I loved every second of it.”

There he was again, with that confident tone, that damned charm. I rolled my eyes, doing my best to stay calm.

“You didn’t ask any questions before throwing yourself at me, John. If you had, my answer would’ve been a clear no.”

He laughed.

It was a warm, genuine laugh, like he found my effort to stay indifferent completely adorable.

“Sure, sure. The classic excuse for not admitting you got carried away.” He stood, stretched as if he owned the world, then offered me his hand. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

“I can walk, thanks,” I replied, even though I knew he wouldn’t let me go alone. He had that kind of insistence that was irritating, but deep down, it made me feel safe. Not that I’d ever admit that out loud.

We drove in silence, but the air between us felt charged. Electric. The kind of tension that lingers after someone’s crossed a line, and there’s no way back. The silence was heavy, thick, and I tried my best to act like nothing had happened.

“You okay?” he asked, glancing at me as he drove.

“Perfectly. Why?” I said, pretending to be fascinated by the city lights.

“I don’t know. You seemed a little out of sorts back there. Maybe you’re not used to kisses that intense,” he teased.

“Intense? Please. I’ve had colds that were more intense than that.” I went for the most cynical line I could pull out, but all it did was make him laugh again.

“God, you’re always so clever, Catherine.”

I bit my lip.

I hated the way he said my name, like he was tasting it, like he made it sound special when it clearly wasn’t.

I was just a failed writer who didn’t want some egocentric billionaire ruining what little was left of her sanity.

And yet, there he was. That low voice, those fingers brushing the steering wheel like he knew exactly how to touch everything. And my sanity... hanging by a thread.

When we reached my building, I got out of the car faster than he could react.

“Thanks for the ride, John. You can go back to your golden mansion or whatever,” I said, fishing for my keys in my bag.

“You know, you act tough, but I know you like me.” His voice followed me, soft but sure.

I turned and looked at him straight on. I made the mistake of meeting his eyes. There it was, that damn spark. A glint of challenge and desire.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” I said, though my tone sounded far less convincing than I’d wanted.

“No need to admit it now. Give it time.” John stepped toward me, and suddenly, he was a breath away again. His cologne — expensive, rich, addictive — wrapped around me without permission. His gaze held that dangerous intensity that makes you forget there’s a world beyond those eyes. “You know it, Catherine. You know there’s something happening between us.”

I bit my lip, hating myself for what came next. I could feel the tension in the air, thick enough to cut with a knife.

Part of me wanted to step back. The other part wanted to stay there forever.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, turning my head away. But he gently took my chin, making me look at him again.

“Oh, you know.” His voice was low, close, his breath grazing my mouth. “I told you. You don’t have to fall in love. I’ll do all the work. You just... let go.”

He said it so quietly, so close, I almost closed my eyes. Almost gave in.

But I breathed. One step back. Just one. The spell cracked, just barely.

“I’m not interested in that kind of game,” I muttered, even though I knew — it had already begun.

His smile was slow. Dangerous. Seductive.

“That’s what you say now, Catherine. That’s what you say.”

My brain was screaming get out now, but my body... my body had other plans. Every fiber of me knew the right thing would be to walk away, slam the door in his face, and go back to my quiet, failed-writer life.

But there was John. Too close. Too attractive. And with that smile that made me want to strangle him... and kiss him all at once.