Chapter five : Kelvin
I didn't expect her to walk through that door again.
Not after the way she left—vanished, really. One night we were tangled in sheets, her mouth on mine, and the next morning she was gone like it hadn't meant a thing.
Five years.
Five years of silence. Five years of wondering if I'd imagined how she looked at me that night. Five years of asking myself if I was just the warm body she needed because I looked too damn much like my brother.
And now… she was back.
Anna.
Same voice. Same smart mouth. But different, too. Sharper around the edges. Like the world had taught her how to cut before she could soften again.
And still—still—she made my chest ache.
Seeing her on the porch yesterday, that old hoodie swallowing her frame, hair tied up like she didn't care but I knew better… it unraveled something in me I'd stitched shut a long time ago.
She looked at me and didn't flinch.
And that alone nearly brought me to my knees.
I told myself I was fine. That I could handle a few days of her being home. Make awkward small talk. Avoid any mention of that night. But then she sat by the fire with me close enough to feel, close enough to remember and I was undone.
God, the way she looked at me in the firelight.
I felt it everywhere. The tension. The heat. The wanting.Not just sexual—though that was definitely there, hard and fast, the second her thigh brushed mine under the blanket. But deeper, too. That ache you get when you want someone you once had… and lost.
And maybe never really got to begin with.
She touched my chest last night. Just for a second. Just long enough for me to remember exactly how she felt in my arms. Soft. Wild. Mine.
I almost kissed her.
I almost said things I couldn't take back.
But then the door opened, and just like five years ago, reality ruined it before I could decide if it was worth the risk.
Now it's morning, and I'm making pancakes like I'm not on the edge of losing my mind. She's standing by the coffee machine, wearing my brother's hoodie—again—and that shouldn't make me irrationally angry, but it does.
Because I'm the one who knows how she sounds when she comes apart. I'm the one who stayed behind and picked up the pieces while she ran. And Josh… Josh still doesn't know what she did. What we did.
And even if it started as a mistake, I meant every second of it.
I still do.
But when she looks at me now, I don't know what she sees.
Maybe just a complication.
Maybe just a reminder.
Or maybe—God help me—she sees me. The man who's built a career, a name, a damn empire from nothing… and still feels like a lovesick idiot when she bites her lip and looks away.
She tells me about the job offer and my heart thuds once, hard.
Cavendish & Blake.
My company.
She has no idea.
And when I tell her when I see the shock flash in her eyes I almost feel bad.
Almost.
Because fate gave me a window. A second chance I didn't expect. She's back, and not just for the weekend. She might actually stay.
Might work under me.
Might finally have to face what we were.
But here's the thing: I'm not twenty-two anymore. I'm not the kid hoping she'll finally choose me instead of him. I've built a life without her.
I just haven't figured out how to live it without wanting her.
So yeah. She's home. And everything hurts again. Everything burns again.
And I can't decide if I'm going to stay professional or finally, completely, ruin both of us