The skyline shimmered outside your office window, a thousand lights blinking across the city like it was breathing.

You were still at your desk. Of course you were.

Being a name partner didn’t mean you left earlier — it meant you never left at all.

You didn’t even look up when the knock came. “Mia, I swear, if it's the intern again—”

The door opened before you finished.

You frowned.

Because it wasn’t Mia.

It was him.

Asher Donovan, in a black hoodie and joggers that probably cost more than your legal textbooks from law school. His cap was pulled low, and he looked annoyingly hot for someone who’d just finished training two hours ago.

He didn’t even knock properly.

He never did.

“You weren’t answering your phone,” he said, closing the door behind him.

“That’s because I’m working.”

“You told me you’d be done by nine.”

“It’s barely—” You glanced at the clock. “Okay, it’s eleven.”

Asher didn’t say I told you so, but he didn’t have to. He just walked in with that quiet, casual confidence, like this was his space too. Which… lately, it sort of was.

He dropped a bag of takeout on your desk, moved a stack of briefs without asking, and flopped into one of the leather chairs across from you.

“You eat?” he asked, already unwrapping the container.

You stared at him.

“I love how you’re unfazed by the fact that this is a law office, not your kitchen.”

He popped a dumpling in his mouth. “I’m dating the boss. Perks.”

You smiled despite yourself.

He noticed — and grinned. That cocky, boyish, I-know-exactly-how-hot-I-am kind of grin that used to get him out of trouble with referees. And into trouble with you.

You leaned back in your chair. “You really just walked past reception?”

“They know me now. Perks of dating the real MVP.”

“You play in a stadium,” you deadpanned. “I fight corporate criminals.”

“Exactly.” He stood, walked over to your side of the desk, and placed the food in front of you. “Which is why you deserve to eat something that isn’t stress and sarcasm.”

You looked up at him. “You know I could have just texted you back when I was free.”

“Yeah, but then I wouldn’t get to see your face when I walk in.”

Your heart did a thing.

It still did that thing.

Even now.

Even after months.

He leaned down, just enough for your knees to brush, and added, low—

“Also, I was getting kind of worried you forgot I exist.”

You shook your head with a soft smile, the stress peeling off just a little.

Then you looked around and said, lightly, “Shut the door, will you? Before Mia starts texting again about my ‘guest policy.’”

Asher walked back over to the door. He didn’t close it halfway.

He clicked the lock.

Then turned back to you with a smirk that said, Oh, I plan on staying awhile.