Of Course It Isn't

Matthew arrived at the office earlier than usual, coffee in one hand and a stack of reports in the other. He had spent the drive replaying Angel's parting words from the night before.

"You were tempted, weren't you?"

The woman had nerve. And he hated how easily she got under his skin.

As he stepped into the sleek, modern lobby of Sentinel Systems, he spotted Angel at her desk, typing away. She was already in full work mode, dressed sharply as ever, her posture straight, her focus unwavering.

But Matthew knew her well enough to notice the slight tension in her shoulders—the smallest tell that she was still thinking about last night, too.

Smirking, he leaned against her desk. "Morning."

Angel didn't even look up. "Morning."

Matthew waited. No reaction.

He smirked wider. "So… about last night—"

Angel's fingers froze over her keyboard. "Nope. We are not doing this."

Matthew chuckled. "Oh, but we are."