Chapter 2

The polished hardwood floors of the Morrison Estate gleam beneath Virginia’s hurried steps as she weaves through the narrow hallway, her arms overflowing with art history books—an anxious thrum of energy coursing through her. The scent of sandalwood wafts through the air, sweet and grounding, urging her forward with the promise of something both familiar and thrillingly new. She barely registers the muted echo of distant traffic beyond the windows; her thoughts whirl, each one tethered to the pull of a man who holds her heart in ways she cannot yet name.

With each stride, she attempts to gather her thoughts, excited to be home yet grappling with the resurgence of feelings stirred by the presence of Derek Reeves. They flash through her mind like vivid strokes of color—moments from their shared past, laughter echoing during warm summer nights, and lingering looks that simmer just beneath the surface of friendship. It is disconcerting and intoxicating, her pulse quickening as she nears the corner of the hallway.

And then, in an instant, she rounds the corner and collides— not with a piece of furniture or the wall, but with him. Her breath hitches as she feels the warmth of his hands wrap around her shoulders, steadying her as their eyes meet for a fleeting moment. Those dark, intense eyes pierce through the noise of her thoughts, grounding her in an overwhelming wave of emotion that floods her senses.

“Whoa, careful there, V,” he mutters, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers racing along her spine. She watches him, struck momentarily by the strength in his grip and the way the corners of his mouth twitch as if suppressing a smirk. Her fingers tremble slightly as she fidgets with a strand of her straight black hair, the cascade of dark locks slipping through her fingers as her heart races.

“I’m... sorry, I didn’t see you there,” she finally manages, her voice barely more than a whisper. The heat floods her cheeks, a blush creeping over her skin, and she hastily shifts her gaze to the scattered art history books sprawled across the floor, searching for the distraction her frazzled nerves crave.

Derek chuckles softly, his amusement mixing with something deeper—something unspoken lingers in the air between them, heavy with promise and the hint of danger. As they both kneel to collect the fallen volumes, their fingers brush against each other, igniting sparks of awareness. Each touch sends a jolt of electricity coursing through her, awakening the vulnerability tucked away behind layers of decorum and familial expectation.

With practiced care, they gather the books, exchanging quiet smiles, yet the atmosphere wraps around them like an embrace, both comforting and thrilling. Virginia catches herself stealing glances at him, trying to memorize the way his features soften when he’s near her, how his hair falls just so over his forehead, and how the scent of sandalwood that clings to him seems to blend seamlessly with the home she loves.

In that moment, everything else fades. The world around them, the distant hum of life outside, dissolves into silence, and time stretches, elongating the intimacy of their shared task. It’s as if they exist in a separate universe—a fragile bubble where the gravity of their relationship shifts dangerously, tipping toward uncharted territory.

Then, just as the moment stretches toward something almost tangible, Derek clears his throat, breaking the spell that ensnares them both. He steps back, the warmth of his hands leaving her skin bereft of its comfort, and their gazes break apart. The sudden loss is palpable; it echoes through her core, twisting her insides as she tries to steady her heart.

“Careful,” he says again, his tone light yet layered with something more profound. A caution buried beneath playful words that makes her ache for his attention, for more than just this friendly exchange.

“Thanks, Derek,” she replies, the words tumbling out like fragile glass, her voice cracking as she fights the turmoil brewing inside. She feels the thrill of uncertainty and anticipation melding into a dizzying concoction that clouds her thoughts.

With the books now gathered, Virginia stands, desperately clinging to the normalcy of the moment even as her heart races in uncharted waters. She watches Derek as he straightens, those dark eyes still locked onto hers for a heartbeat too long, an invitation shimmering in the space between them. It sends her pulse racing and her stomach flipping—no, it isn’t just attraction; it’s something more perilous that hangs between them, tethering them together yet demanding separation.

Then, in an unexpected jolt, she snaps back to the present, feeling the weight of her surroundings crash back into focus, drowning out the heady emotions vying for dominance. The world bursts into sound, the air thick with unvoiced confessions that linger, suffocating her in their wake.

She turns, ready to retreat from the intimacy they nearly crossed into, her legs shaking slightly beneath her as she murmurs a hasty farewell, not daring to glance back at the man who elicits this whirlwind of yearning and fear.

Derek watches her leave, his jaw tightening, torn between the loyalty he feels towards her father and the undeniable attraction that pulls him closer. The lingering warmth of her presence fills the space, creating an echo that fills his mind as he grapples with his own tangled emotions—each one overlapping, overwhelming, as he fights the urge to follow her.

He’s a protector, her father's best friend; those roles tether him to the ground, holding him fast as the winds of desire swirl around them. And yet, as Virginia vanishes down the hallway, he feels a pang of longing that whispers of possibilities—of what could be if only the chains of expectation did not bind them so tightly.

The scent of sandalwood mingles with the palpable tension that suffuses the air, drowning him in temptation as he lets out a shaky breath, trying to reclaim a semblance of control over the situation spiraling just beyond reach.