Kaz was reviewing maps on his desk, muttering strategies under his breath. He didn’t hear you come in, he never did when he was deep in his mind. You leaned against the edge of his desk and nudged a paper with your finger.

He didn’t look up. “Move,” he said.

You grinned. “Make me.”

Kaz froze.

Slowly, very slowly, he lifted his eyes to meet yours. That calculating stare. That sharp inhale. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“Testing a theory.” You leaned closer. “That you like when I’m near you.”

Kaz stepped back automatically, but you followed him until he hit the table behind him. His jaw flexed. “Stop.”

“Why?” you asked innocently. “Am I bothering you?”

“Yes.” A beat. “No.” He swallowed. “Both.”

You braced your hands on either side of him, trapping him without touching. His breath hitched. “You’re enjoying this,” he accused.

“Maybe,” you whispered. “You could ask me to stop.”

Kaz’s gaze flicked to your mouth, slow, involuntary, devastating. “I won’t,” he said quietly.

You leaned in closer, lips barely brushing the air between you. “Why not?”

Kaz’s voice was almost a whisper. “Because I’ve wanted this for a very… very long time.”

His confession hit harder than any kiss.