You weren’t sure what possessed you to follow him when he said, “We’ve got a few minutes before the briefing — come with me.”

But you did.

And now you were here, in one of the side offices, lights dimmed, the buzz of the overhead fluorescents dulled by the pounding in your ears. John stood close — too close — one hand braced on the door behind you, the other hovering near your waist like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to pull you in or push himself away.

“I wasn’t imagining it,” he said quietly. “Back there. The way you were looking at me.”

You swallowed, throat dry. “You don’t know what I was thinking.”

“No,” he said, eyes searching yours, “but I know what I was.”

The space between you crackled. For weeks now, there’d been these moments — long stares in briefing rooms, passing brushes in crowded hallways, sparring sessions that ended with heavy breathing and too-long eye contact. But this… this was the first time either of you had said anything out loud.

You backed up slightly, until your spine hit the edge of a desk behind you.

He followed.

“You keep acting like this thing between us isn’t real,” he muttered, voice lower now, almost rough. “But you flinch every time I get close, like you’re trying not to want it.”

“Because I shouldn’t want it.”

“But you do.”

Silence.

You hated that he was right. You hated how good he looked like this — sleeves rolled, jaw clenched, hair slightly out of place. You hated how your heart stuttered when he leaned in.

You could’ve pushed him away. Should’ve.

Instead, your hand slid up his chest.

“You’re an asshole,” you whispered.

His grin flickered, sharp and crooked. “Takes one to know one.”

Then he kissed you.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t slow. Weeks of tension snapped between you like a live wire — teeth, breath, hands grabbing like it might be your last chance. His hands found your hips, lifting you effortlessly onto the desk, his mouth moving hungrily against yours.

You broke the kiss just long enough to gasp, “The meeting—”

He kissed your jaw, then your throat. “Let them wait.”

You let your head fall back, his hands gripping your thighs.

Maybe it was reckless. Maybe it was stupid.

But right now? It felt inevitable.