Chapter 4 4

The morning sun streamed through the large windows of the office, casting long shadows across the conference room table. Leighton sat at one end, reviewing the latest draft of their community engagement proposal. The town hall was quickly approaching, and every detail needed to be perfect. But no matter how much she focused on the task at hand, her mind kept drifting back to Ezra.

He had been... different since last night. More distant, but also more watchful. As though he were trying to keep a certain part of himself guarded, even though she knew, deep down, it wasn't easy for him. It wasn't easy for her either.

"Leighton," Ezra's voice broke through her thoughts, smooth but with an edge of urgency. "Can we talk for a minute?"

She looked up, meeting his gaze. There was something in his expression-something more vulnerable than usual-that made her stomach tighten. She nodded slowly, setting the proposal down in front of her.

"Of course," she replied, keeping her tone steady.

Ezra glanced around the room, almost as if making sure no one was listening before he spoke. Then, lowering his voice, he added, "I don't think we're doing ourselves any favors by pretending everything's fine."

Her breath caught. She knew what he meant, but hearing him say it out loud made the weight of it all hit harder. "Ezra..."

"I know this is... complicated. But I can't pretend I don't feel it," he continued, his words coming faster now. "You're too good at keeping things locked up, Leighton. But I'm not like that. And this-" He paused, his hands gesturing vaguely between them. "This isn't just business anymore. And you know it."

Leighton's heart was pounding, her chest tight. "I told you from the beginning-this is just business. You and me, we keep it professional. That's the deal."

"Is it?" Ezra's gaze softened, the intensity in his eyes making her second-guess her own resolve. "You think we can keep pretending there's nothing between us? Every time I see you, it's like there's this tension in the air that I can't ignore. It's in the way we talk, the way we work, the way we look at each other."

Leighton swallowed hard, her hands trembling slightly as she reached for the proposal in front of her. She was searching for something to focus on, something that would take her mind off the words hanging between them. She couldn't do this. She couldn't let herself feel it. Not again.

"You're overthinking this," she said, her voice quieter now, her gaze averted. "We're just colleagues, Ezra. Partners on a project. That's it."

Ezra shook his head slowly, his jaw clenched. "I don't believe that."

Leighton met his eyes, her resolve starting to crack. "What do you want me to say? That I feel the same way? That I'm... attracted to you? That I'm *not* trying to push this down every single time I see you?"

Ezra's expression softened, and he leaned forward, his voice low and steady. "I don't want you to say anything you're not ready to. But I need you to understand, Leighton- I'm not trying to make this harder for you. I'm just trying to be real."

She could feel the shift in him, in them. This wasn't just a conversation about work anymore. It was about something deeper, something more personal.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Then Leighton exhaled slowly, a sigh escaping her lips. "I don't know what this is, Ezra. I don't. And I'm not sure I'm ready to figure it out."

He nodded, his eyes understanding. "I get that. But I don't want to keep pretending, either. I need to know where you stand."

Her heart raced in her chest. She had to keep her boundaries intact. She couldn't let herself get swept up in this. She had worked too hard to build a career, too hard to protect herself from this very kind of distraction.

"I'm standing right here," she said, trying to sound firm. "I'm here for the project. That's where I stand. Nothing more."

Ezra looked at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable, before he nodded. "Alright. I can live with that."

There was something final in his words, but also a hint of sadness that made her feel a pang of regret. Still, she couldn't afford to let herself go there. Not with him. Not now.

---

The rest of the day passed in a blur. The town hall presentation was drawing closer, and Leighton threw herself into finalizing the details. Ezra was more distant than usual, and though they shared the occasional brief glance, the charged atmosphere between them had dissipated-replaced by a cool professionalism that made Leighton feel like they were both holding something back.

By the time the evening rolled around, the office was quieter. Leighton had just wrapped up her final meeting of the day when she stepped into the elevator. She pressed the button for the ground floor and leaned against the wall, closing her eyes for a moment, the weight of the day settling in.

When the elevator doors slid open, she wasn't expecting to see Ezra standing there, leaning against the opposite wall, his arms crossed.

He didn't move when she stepped inside. The air between them felt thick with unspoken words.

"Not going home yet?" Leighton asked, keeping her tone light, though she couldn't ignore the tension in her chest.

Ezra glanced at her, his eyes searching. "I was just thinking. About what you said earlier."

She frowned. "Ezra, we don't need to keep talking about this."

But he shook his head, his voice soft but insistent. "We do. You say we're just colleagues, just partners on a project. But I can't pretend that's all we are. Not anymore."

Leighton looked at him, her heart pounding again. "Ezra..."

"I'm not asking for anything from you, Leighton," he said, his voice steady now, almost like he was trying to convince himself as much as her. "I'm not asking you to change your mind or to suddenly open up. But I don't want us to pretend we're not feeling this... whatever *this* is. Because it's there, whether we like it or not."

The elevator stopped, and the doors opened to the ground floor. They both stepped out, but Leighton didn't move toward the exit immediately. Instead, she faced him, her heart beating loudly in her chest.

"I don't know what this is," she repeated, her voice barely a whisper. "But I can't let it get in the way of what we're doing here. We can't."

Ezra nodded, his expression unreadable. "I get it. I'll keep my distance, if that's what you need."

But the finality in his voice sent a pang through her chest. Maybe it was the way he looked at her. Maybe it was the way he tried to be so composed, like he wasn't affected. But in that moment, Leighton realized that whatever she was trying to avoid, whatever distance she was trying to keep between them, it wasn't going to be easy. She'd have to find a way to live with it- or risk letting it consume her.

---

Leighton walked out of the elevator, trying to shake off the heavy feeling that had settled in her chest. The building's lobby was bustling with people- employees heading out for the evening, some laughing, others in deep conversation-but it all felt distant to her, as if she were in a bubble that kept Ezra and their conversation trapped inside.

She needed space. She needed to breathe.

But the moment she stepped into the warm evening air, the weight of the world seemed to press down on her again. She was in control. She had to be. The project, the town hall, the new phase of her career-none of it could falter because of her personal complications.

It was almost as if she could hear Ezra's words echoing in her head, reminding her of the tension that had been there from the beginning. She couldn't deny it anymore, but it didn't matter. She had worked too hard to let this derail everything.

Leighton pulled her coat tighter around herself and made her way to her car, her pace brisk and purposeful. She couldn't linger. Not when she was so close to everything she wanted.

But before she could get inside her car, she heard the familiar sound of footsteps approaching. She turned, already knowing who it was. Ezra.

He was standing several feet away, his hands shoved in his jacket pockets, his jaw tight. He wasn't looking at her, but she could feel the pull of his presence.

"You don't need to walk me to my car," she said, her voice a little more brittle than she intended. "I can manage."

Ezra's gaze lifted to hers, his expression unreadable, though his eyes still carried that same intensity. "I'm not here to walk you to your car, Leighton."

She raised an eyebrow, not sure what to make of his sudden persistence. "Then why are you here?"

He paused for a moment, and then, to her surprise, he stepped forward, the space between them shrinking as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, folded piece of paper. He handed it to her without a word.

Leighton took it, her fingers brushing against his for a brief moment. She glanced down at the note in her hand, the edges slightly worn from being folded, and then back up at him.

"I thought you might need this," Ezra said quietly, his voice almost vulnerable.

Her heart skipped a beat, and she unfolded the paper carefully. There, in Ezra's handwriting, was a single phrase: "I'm here if you need me."

Leighton swallowed, the words carrying more weight than she expected. More than she was ready for. Her throat felt tight, and for a moment, she wasn't sure what to say.

"I don't need your help, Ezra," she said, her tone defensive, but her voice wavered slightly. She couldn't hide the cracks in her composure, not now.

He sighed, his gaze softening. "You keep saying that. But I think you do, even if you're not ready to admit it."

Her hands clenched around the paper, and she stepped back, trying to put some distance between them. "This isn't about me needing your help," she said, her voice hardening again. "It's about us being professional. We made a deal. That's all it is."

Ezra's brow furrowed, and he took another step toward her. "Leighton, you can't keep pretending that this is just business. You're not fooling anyone, least of all me."

"Stop it," she snapped, her voice rising in frustration. "You don't get to tell me what I'm feeling. You don't get to-"

"I know," he cut her off gently, his voice low, almost a whisper. "I don't get to tell you how to feel. But I do know that you're not being honest with yourself. And I can't keep pretending either."

Leighton stared at him, her heart pounding. She wanted to argue. She wanted to shut him out, to lock everything up like she always did. But there was something in his eyes-something raw-that made her want to reach out, even if it terrified her.

Instead, she simply shook her head, trying to regain control. "I can't, Ezra. I can't let this be anything more than what it is."

He exhaled slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. "I'm not asking you to make it more than what it is. I'm just asking you to stop fighting what's already here."

Her breath hitched, and for a brief moment, it felt like the whole world stopped moving. The distance between them felt infinite and yet unbearably small at the same time.

Finally, Ezra stepped back, his gaze lingering on her for one last, silent moment before he nodded, his face set in a resigned expression. "Alright. I'll stop pushing. But just know, Leighton, that I'm not going anywhere. And if you ever need someone to talk to, you know where to find me."

Leighton didn't respond, watching as he turned and walked back toward the building. She could hear the click of his boots against the pavement, each step echoing in her chest like a reminder of the conversation that had shifted everything.

Her fingers tightened around the note he'd given her. She could still feel the warmth of his touch, the lingering softness of his words. It wasn't a promise, but it felt like one. One she wasn't ready to face.

The drive home was a blur. The city lights streaked past in a cascade of colors, but none of it reached her. Her mind was consumed by Ezra's words and the way his presence seemed to fill every corner of her thoughts.

When she finally pulled into her driveway, she sat in the car for a moment, staring at the house that had always been her sanctuary. But tonight, it felt different. It felt distant. She didn't want to be alone with her thoughts, not when they kept pulling her back to Ezra. To the warmth of his voice, the way his words had stirred something inside her.

She stepped out of the car, the chill of the night air biting at her skin, and made her way inside, hoping that the silence of her home would give her the clarity she so desperately needed.

But no matter how hard she tried, the memory of Ezra's gaze wouldn't leave her. It lingered, like the promise of something she wasn't sure she was ready to accept.