I'm on the phone all morning with my client, closing the deal. The second my call is over, I look across the office to Milo, where he's chatting away on the phone to a client, but his eyes don't move from mine.

I swiftly avert my gaze. There's this awful feeling in the pit of my stomach, like everything is about to implode. And even though I hate to admit it, even though I'd love to convince myself this awful mood is down to the fact I'm spending Christmas alone, I know deep down, it's because of Milo.

As pathetic as it sounds, I was up half the night replaying the moment he whispered Anna's name. And knowing that it was his subconscious talking and not him makes it worse; it means while he's on my mind, she's on his.

"You must be so relieved," Jess says.

Jumping slightly, I drag my eyes from Milo to fix them on her. She's watching me expectantly, eyebrow raised like maybe I should be happier about closing the deal.

"I am," I assure her, but I'm not the only one who succeeded. I'd heard through the grapevine that Patricia closed her deal last night. That means with Milo too, the three of us are still in the running. I have yet to hear anything about Harry but he's not in today, which is unusual. I get out my phone and send him a message to make sure he's okay. "Have you heard anything about Harry?"

"Yeah," Jess whispers, looking up. "He closed the deal, and then he quit."

"What?" Resigning is practically unheard of. Not really, but getting to six and resigning is. It takes so much work and sacrifice to make it this far that I can't help but wonder what he was thinking.

"I heard Patricia speaking about it in the elevator this morning," Jess says. "She said he'd seemed unhappy for a while with how things were. I guess he finally had enough."

Brave. That's the first word that comes to my mind, and I can't help feel guilty for it. "Well, I guess all there is left to do is wait."

"You'll get it," Jess says, waving her hand, "there's no way you won't. Are you coming out tonight? We're having one last hurrah before everyone goes home for the holidays."

My chest heaves. With Christmas drawing closer, it's just another reminder that I'm going to be holed up in my apartment with Mulan, dwelling on my loneliness. Lucas, meanwhile, will be cozied up with his new fiance, having the picture-perfect Christmas we were supposed to have.

"Yeah," I say, determined, "I am."

For the rest of the afternoon, I get back to my other properties and clients, all the while peeking at Milo through brief, sideways glances. If I were as mature as I claim to be, I'd have asked him by now if something is going on with his ex, but I'm not sure I want to hear the truth. Things are already complicated enough, and having barely mended my heart since the last break, I'm not sure I can afford another.

I spend the next fifteen minutes ignoring all things Milo, but when I can no longer avoid the call of the coffee machine, I hurry toward it, praying he won't get up join me. But of course, he does, and the second my finger presses the button, he's standing behind me, leaning in slightly so that his mouth is just above my ear.

"I suppose a congratulations are in order."

"Back at you," I say. "I'm surprised Laurelle hasn't–"

Right on cue, one of Laurelle's minions steps out of the elevator and quickly scans the office. She turns to Patricia. Beckons her over. I hold my breath as her eyes fall on Milo and I huddled by the coffee machine. With a wiggle of her finger, she beckons us over too.

"Looks like we've been summoned," Milo mutters.

Swallowing hard, I ditch my coffee cup – the coffee on seven is a thousand times better – and the three of us stride toward the elevator.

"I suppose you've both heard about Harry," Patricia says as we walk. "Makes it easier for us, I guess."

Milo doesn't say anything. It's clear he can't stand inane small talk, but I say, "Yeah, I heard. Do you know what made him quit?"

She shrugs as we step into the elevator. "He seemed stressed, but he didn't say anything."

We turn to the front in silence. It's an awkward ride to seven, and even though I try my best to look at anything but him, my eyes keep gravitating toward his reflection. He's been hitting the gym a lot these past few months, and today he's wearing a short-sleeved shirt, so every muscle looks perfectly sculpted in the elevator doors. Briefly, I think about how easy it would be for them to lift me right up and push me against the wall. If it weren't for Patricia and Laurelle's minion standing less than a foot away–

"Are you coming?"

I jump as the minion stands before me impatiently, waiting for me to get out. With a quick look at Milo, whose eyebrow is raised somewhat in bemusement, I follow Laurelle's assistant, passing the rows of fancy glass offices where the sevens tap away on their laptops with efficiency.

Milo would fit right in up here. In fact, one of these model-like Amazonians would be the perfect match for someone like him. In my head, it's how I imagine his ex, Anna, to look: glossy, perfect, and as muscular as Milo himself. They probably hit the gym as a couple, taking the perfect Instagram pictures before heading home to do some yoga.

I shake away the thought. I've had a lifetime of comparing myself to others, of Lucas comparing me to others. You should style your hair like she does, he'd say about an ad on the tv. You should wear something like this, as he showed me an Instagram post of an effortlessly perfect model. I thought I was done with feeling like this, but last night has clearly unraveled me.

The first thing I do when Minion tells us to take a seat in the lobby is grab a fresh cup of coffee. I sink into the fancy sofas, taking in the intricate art adorning the walls, but something doesn't feel right. Milo sits next to me and stretches his ridiculously long legs.

"Is there a reason you've been avoiding me?" he asks.

I glance at Patricia over by the coffee machine and pray she can't hear us. "I'm not avoiding you."

"You are, but I'll forgive you this once. What are you doing tonight?"

Cautious, I say, "I think a few of us from work are going out before everyone goes home for the holidays."

He looks up, eyes dark like he's contemplating something. "Are you really not going to spend Christmas with your parents?"

"No, I'm not. It'll just be my mother feeling sorry for me and telling me how happy I was with Lucas. In between her arguing with my dad, that is."

He's about to speak, but the minion comes back and ominously tells us it's time. With Patricia bringing up the rear, we head toward Laurelle's office and knock on the door, waiting for her to beckon us in. Despite being one of my competitors, having Milo here comforts me.

"I'll make this quick," she says, not looking up from her laptop. "None of you met my expectations in time of turnaround, but at least you sold the properties and didn't quit. You won't be hearing from me during the holidays – I do have a life, contrary to popular belief– but we'll hold interviews as soon you're back. I'll be making my decision on the day, and whoever gets it will move up here straight away."

"That sounds great," I say eagerly.

"Thank you so much," Patricia beams.

Milo says nothing.

"Patricia," Laurelle says, finally looking up, "you can go now."

There's a beat before Patricia gets to her feet, thanks Laurelle for her time, and heads out. As soon as she's out of earshot, Laurelle turns to us. "For both your sakes," she says, "I hope the rumors aren't true."

My heart stops.

"What rumors?" Milo asks.

"The ones flying around about the two of you. Whatever is going on will need to end when one of you is promoted. Relationships with your superiors are forbidden under your contracts." Laurelle's eyes flit to me now and stay there. "As I'm sure you know, Kennedy, what with it being the reason Lucas broke up with you."

I blink once. Then twice. If Laurelle means what I think she means, she's the reason he broke up with me. I'd always put our breakup down to the stress of competing, but it wasn't just stress. Laurelle gave him an ultimatum, and he chose the promotion over me.

Neither of us speaks. We're smart enough not to admit or deny one way or the other, and with a brief nod at the door, we're dismissed.Back in the elevator, I'm about to press for six, but something overcomes me and I press one, instead. Inside, I'm panicking, not just because of her thinly veiled threat, but because if Milo gets this job on seven, I'll have to live that same misery all over again.

"Interesting turn of events," Milo says, glancing over. "Why'd you press one?"

"I don't think interesting is the word you're looking for."

He leans closer, making me nervous. "What word am I looking for?"

The doors pop open, so I sidestep away. He follows me down the corridor, away from the main lobby and past a row of doors.

"Where are you going?" he asks. "Don't tell me you've finally gone insane."

Ignoring him, I grab his hand and pull him into the janitor closet, a place I used to frequent often when I worked on ground floor and needed to escape. It's been a long time since I've been here, but everything is still the same, from the old, used buckets stacked in the corner to the several cans of paint on the shelves.

"Kennedy, what are we–"

Finally, I turn around. "Obviously, everyone thinks there is something going on between us."

He raises an eyebrow. "And you?"

"And me, what?"

He sighs like I'm being obtuse. "What do you think?"

It's my way out. A chance to save face and end this madness before I really get hurt. Between Laurelle's warning just now and him whispering Anna's name, I'm pretty much playing with fire.

"I think we're mature enough to admit that there's an attraction here–" he stiffens slightly, surprised by my confession, "–but our jobs are on the line, and we didn't work this hard just to be fired for breaking our contracts, so you need to keep your hands to yourself." Feeling sassy, I turn to leave, but he grabs my waist and pulls me back.

"Not so fast," he says, drawing me closer. "Neither of us has been promoted yet. We're still on an equal playing field."

My heart beats harder. He's technically right, but all I can think is fire fire fire. "So, what you're saying is that we aren't breaking any rules."

His eyes are dark, barely visible in the darkened closet, but I can feel the tension behind them. He takes a step closer until I'm pressed against the wall, then lowers his mouth. "That's exactly what I'm saying."

Every fibre of my body screams I'm making a mistake. This thing can only last another week, tops, before it all comes crashing down, but clearly self-preservation isn't my strong suit, because before I can think, I am kissing him.

For the next three seconds, time stops. My lips touch his, and I'm so surprised by my own forwardness that I don't go any further. Doubt settles in, my inner voice screaming to shut this thing down before I wind up getting hurt. But then he's grabbing me back, his tongue firmly parting my lips, and any doubt goes out the window.

What I'd expected to be a quick, playful kiss becomes something more heated. His hands hook behind me, twisting us around until I'm up against the wall, his thick arms locking me in place. I lower my gaze, imagining him without his shirt, what these same arms would look like exposed.

His lips leave mine, just for a moment, long enough for him to meet my gaze. His eyes are dark and the slightest bit surprised. They fall to my lips next, hooded and filled with the type of wild passion you only ever see in movies. A look I didn't know I've been craving.

Nerves pool my stomach in a way that leaves me shaken. I've never been looked at like this before, especially by him, and it's doing something funny to my insides. I'm suddenly scared, searching his eyes for the answer to a question I don't know how to ask.

Then, slowly, he reaches up and cups my cheek, drawing me into him. His kiss comes gently, desperate to make this last. With our end date in sight, it makes every lingering touch feel all the more sweeter.

I pull him closer by the front of his shirt, then tease his mouth with the tip of my tongue, capturing his groan between my lips. His fingers brush my thigh, leaving a trail of heat behind, sending embers of fire through my body. I reach for his shirt and start to unbutton it.

His lips curl upward as his hand engulfs mine, stopping me from going any further. "Not yet."

"Are you trying to annoy me?"

"No," he breathes against my ear. "I'm trying to savor you." The warmth of his breath makes me shiver. I pull back slightly to look in his eyes, surprised by how warm they are. "Spend Christmas with me," he says.

The surprise that settles over me is instant. "What?"

His eyes are dark, serious. This isn't a joke. "My parents own a cabin just outside of the city. We're both anti-Christmas, we don't have plans. Let's cancel Christmas and do our own thing."

For about a minute, all I can do is blink. My mouth opens, then closes again, my brain still at a loss for words. How did we go from not kissing, to kissing, to spending the weekend together? And not just any weekend, but Christmas, a holiday reserved for serious couples, and one he wants to cancel to spend time with me. In the back of my head, Anna's name floats forward like a noose around my neck, reminding me of unfinished business.

His eyes turn playful. "Don't tell me you'd rather spend the weekend eating eggnog in your pajamas."

"Milo–" I start, but he silences me with a kiss.

"Don't overthink it."

He's right, my brain is going a mile a minute, calculating the pros and cons, the risks, the consequences, when really it comes down to one thing. Do I want to spend the weekend with Milo?

"Okay," I say shakily, "but I'll need an hour or two to get ready, and I'll need to bring Mulan."

His nose brushes mine, and I can tell that he's fighting off a smile. "Take as long as you need. I'll pick you up when you're ready."

I go to step back, but his arm around my waist keeps me still. He leans in again, gently parting my mouth with his lips, adamant to taste me one last time. Then, slowly, he pulls back, his eyes still focused on my lips.

"I changed my mind," he says. "Don't take too long."

Smiling, I slip through the door and out into the hallway before heading back to my desk. Jess watches me as I slide into my seat, her eyebrows raised suggestively. When Milo walks in a few minutes later, her eyebrows vanish into her hairline.

"And where have you two been?" she asks.

"Speaking to Laurelle," I say, but I don't look at her. I can't. It feels like the word guilty is printed on my forehead.

"Hmm," she says, turning back to her laptop. "Patricia came back ages ago."

"Oh, really?"

She wiggles an eyebrow. "What are you wearing tonight?"

Briefly, an image of me sprawled on Milo's bed in my lacy black underwear pops into my head. "What?"

"For the Christmas drinks?"

"Oh." My cheeks burn. "I can't actually make it tonight. I have plans."

"Oh please," she says. "What else are you doing on the Friday before Christmas Eve?"

I look up now, just as Milo does too. His lips curl upward and he gives me a nod before turning back to his screen.

Jess catches it and says, "No way. No way. You better start spilling whatever it is you're hiding."

Unable to keep it in any longer, I cave. "Fine. We kissed, and then he invited me to some cabin tonight."

There's a moment of silence as she processes this. "What? How? Why? How? What?"

"I'm going to give you a minute."

"Ignoring the fact that you two spending time in a cabin together is insane, it's nearly Christmas," she says. "How long are you staying for exactly?"

I pause, and then, "The whole weekend."

Her eyes practically bulge from her head. "I'm sorry, I don't think I heard correctly. Milo Woods, the man who is fighting to take your promotion, the man who is anti-everything festive, invited you to his cabin for Christmas."

"It's not for Christmas," I say pointedly. "It's anti-Christmas. We're actually going there to get away from Christmas."

She shakes her head, clearly perplexed, and I don't blame her. I don't quite believe it myself. "When I told you to hook up with someone else, you know this isn't what I meant, right?"

"I know."

"Good, just checking." She grins now, still shaking her head. "If you didn't look so happy, I'd kill you for being so stupid. You better tell me all about it."

"I will," I say, suddenly feeling woozy. "Now get back to work." I don't want to think about later tonight or I'll risk backing out, so instead, I throw myself into work and finish off the last of my tasks.

By the time six hits, Milo and I are the only ones left in the office. We gather our things and take a final look around. The Christmas elves have been busy taking the decorations down, so the place looks empty. It's weird to think that when we next come back, one of us could be staying here and the other could be up in seven, this thing between us over. The best case scenario would be for Patricia to get the promotion, but then my dreams, everything I've worked for, will have been for nothing.

"Come on," Milo says, taking my hand, "let's go."

The gesture surprises me. I let him lead me into the elevator and down to the lobby, where we cross the icy streets to his car. He opens my door and closes it for me before sliding into the driver's seat.

The smell of his car feels familiar. I settle into my seat, watching as he fastens his seatbelt and reverses. The nerves are kicking in again, the thought of heading off to some cabin making me nauseous. Last-minute plans have never been my thing, but this is on a whole new level. It wasn't long ago that he'd whispered his ex's name in his sleep, and just like that, I seem to have forgotten. Still, what better way to gauge his feelings than spending the weekend with him?

In theory.

The drive to my apartment is silent, my eyes on the window as I try to calm down. It's not that I don't want this, I want this more than I ever could have imagined, but that doesn't mean I'm not terrified. What if things go wrong? What if it just makes things more difficult? What if I fall for him harder?

"There's still time to back out," he says.

I glance over, wondering if he can sense my nerves. "And deny Mulan of the chance to experience her first winter cabin? No way."

He grins, and it's adorable. It's hard to believe that the same man I'd once hated is now sitting beside me, grinning at something I've said. He pulls up outside my apartment block but doesn't kill the engine. "I've got to run home to get a few things sorted. Call me when you're nearly ready and I'll come back, all right?"

Breath held, I nod. "Okay, see you tonight."

There's a moment where neither of us speaks. He leans closer, tucking a curtain of my hair back. He's giving me that look again, the one that has the ability to unravel me. And just when I think I'm about to combust, he roughly kisses my forehead.

"See you tonight," he says.

Tonight, I think as I hurry toward my building.

Tonight there is no going back.

A/N Comment a heart if you want the next chapter ASAP! ❤️