Chapter 5

After days of torture she knows she cannot stop herself so why not give in just a little.

I couldn't completely stop looking at the hands—that was impossible but I could make it less obvious.

Which was why, from now on, I would only allow myself the occasional glance. Nothing more. Just quick, harmless looks—strictly for research purposes.

Unfortunately, Cassian was starting to squint at me.

Not in the I-know-your-darkest-secrets way (thank God), but in the you're-acting-strange way.

Like right now.

We were on-site, going over some last-minute changes with the engineers. Cassian stood next to me, gesturing as he spoke. His sleeves were rolled up again (the universe hated me), and his fingers flexed around the blueprint he was holding.

I did not look.

Okay, I barely looked.

It was a millisecond of appreciation. A completely innocuous, unnoticeable glance—

Except when I looked back up, Cassian was watching me.

I froze.

His eyes were slightly narrowed, like he was trying to put something together.

I forced myself to casually turn to the lead engineer and pretend I was invested in the structural integrity of literally anything other than Cassian's hands.

I nodded along, even though I had no idea what he just said.

Cassian tilted his head slightly. Still watching me.

Nope. No, thank you. We are not doing this.

So I did what any sane, functional adult would do: I started talking to other people.

A little too much, maybe.

I suddenly had many questions about steel reinforcements. About scheduling. About weather delays. None of which were relevant to me, but that didn't matter.

Cassian blinked, clearly confused by my sudden enthusiasm for infrastructure.

But it worked.

His focus shifted.

He stopped squinting.

Crisis averted.

For now.

After a day…

So simple

The answer was so simple, I couldn't believe I hadn't thought of it sooner.

I needed to date someone.

Someone real, someone who wasn't Cassian, someone who had hands I could actually be attracted to without spiraling into existential dread.

So, like any modern woman in crisis, I downloaded Tinder.

I wasn't looking for true love—I was looking for a set of hands that could break the curse.

And then, I found him.

Theo Marshall.

Tall. Handsome. Architect, which meant we had things in common. His profile pictures were normal, respectable—a mix of travel shots, gym selfies, and one perfect, glorious image of him holding a cup of coffee, his hands in full display.

They were perfect. Long fingers, strong knuckles, well-kept nails. Not too polished, not too rough.

I swiped right so fast my thumb nearly dislocated.

And by some divine intervention, he swiped right too.

We messaged. It was effortless. We had the same interests, the same dry humor.

By the time we set a date, I was actually excited.

And when I met him in person?

Oh. Oh, this was good.

Theo was just as gorgeous as his pictures, and his hands? Even better in real life.

He was charming, funny, and smart. He actually listened when I talked about work, made insightful comments about architecture, and did this thing where he flexed his fingers absently when he thought.

I was all in.

For the first time in weeks, I wasn't thinking about Cassian's hands.

I was thinking about Theo's hands.

Which meant I was cured.

Theo and I decided to take things slow, which was perfect.

I liked him. Really liked him. We had the same interests, the same workaholic tendencies, and—most importantly—his hands were a safe obsession.

And now that we were official, I had a new problem.

Every time I accidentally looked at Cassian's hands, it felt like cheating.

Which was insane because I wasn't thinking about him. Just his hands. But still, the guilt crept in every time my eyes lingered too long.

So I did what I had to do—I avoided them.

No more glances. No more subconscious admiration. If Cassian gestured too much, I looked away. If he crossed his arms, I suddenly had emails to check. If he rolled his sleeves up—I found somewhere else to be.

I focused on work.

And other people.

I made an effort to actually engage with the team instead of just sticking to my usual back-and-forth with Cassian.

I asked Claire from HR about her book club. I started talking to Devin, the new junior project manager, about the structural designs for our latest development. I even had a full conversation with our finance director—something I usually avoided because he spoke exclusively in numbers and made my head hurt.

It felt good.

Like I was breaking out of a weird, Cassian-centric routine I hadn't realized I was trapped in.

And if Cassian noticed?

He didn't say anything.

Which was perfect.

Because this was normal. Healthy. I had a boyfriend now. My priorities were set.

And Cassian's hands?

They didn't exist.

Company dinners were always the same. We would go for team building, foods and drinks would over flow.

As usual, I would sit beside Cassian to shut him up when he loses control and this company dinner is the same. Cassian booked their favorite restaurant for a week before to celebrate a completed project.

Too much wine, too many inside jokes, and at least three people making the same tired comment about Cassian and me.

It started as soon as we sat down.

"Still not together, huh?" Greg from accounting smirked, sipping his drink.

I didn't even blink. "Nope."

"Unbelievable," Claire added, shaking her head. "Years of working together, having dinner all the time, and still nothing? You two are like in a romance novel."

I forced a laugh. "Well, plot twist—we're not a romance novel."

Cassian, blessedly unaffected, leaned back in his chair. "Sienna wishes she could have me."

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, Cassian. Every night, I pray for the strength to resist you." She drank her wine from her cup shooting daggers at him.

The table laughed. It was fine. It was routine.

But then it happened.

I glanced at his hands.

Like a reflex. Like an addiction I hadn't fully kicked.

He was holding his glass, fingers lazily drumming against the stem, casual, effortless—

No. Nope. Absolutely not.

I had a boyfriend.

I wasn't about to start using Cassian's hands as some weird coping mechanism.

I grabbed my phone and texted Theo.

Me: Come pick me up.

Theo: You okay?

Me: Yeah. Just ready to go.

I exhaled. Better.

When I looked up, Cassian was watching me.

Not in the squinty, suspicious way—just his usual, unreadable expression.

He didn't say anything.

This is the first time, she will be introducing anyone but the teasing had to stop.

If I had to sit through one more company dinner where people treated me and Cassian like some long-lost soulmates, I was going to start flipping tables.

I saw that sweet smile immediately. He looks great as he was walking towards us.

"Everyone, this is my boyfriend, Theo," I said, smiling as I introduced him. "Theo, meet the people who have been harassing me for years."

Theo, charming as ever, shook hands, exchanged pleasantries, and immediately became the office darling.

"Oh, he's handsome," Claire whispered to me.

"I know," I whispered back.

More importantly, the teasing finally stopped.

Cassian was weirdly quiet about the whole thing. He was still his usual self, cocky, charming, vaguely exasperating, but he didn't make a single joke about Theo.

Which was fine. Great, even.

Because after dinner, Theo and I went back to my place.

And that's when things got… interesting.

We were on my sofa, drinks in hand, movie playing in the background. Theo's arm rested on the back of the couch, casual, inviting.

And I?

I was caressing his hand like it was the most precious artifact on earth.

Not even sexually, just pure appreciation. Long fingers, strong knuckles, veins just visible beneath his skin.

This was exactly what I wanted.

Theo, clearly encouraged, leaned in slightly.

Then, before I could react, he dipped his head to kiss me.

And I—

Dodged.

Like a damn ninja.

Theo blinked, clearly confused. "Too soon?"

I cleared my throat, already burning in embarrassment. "I just— I wanna take it slow."

He studied me, then nodded. "Of course."

I hesitated, then admitted, voice barely above a whisper, "You're my first boyfriend."

That got a surprised but very pleased smile out of him. "Really?"

I nodded. "So… I wanna do things right. Like…" I glanced at our hands. "Hand holding."

Theo chuckled, squeezing my fingers gently. "I think we can manage that."

And just like that, my heart settled.

Because this? This was safe. Healthy. Exactly what I needed.

I wasn't spiraling over hands anymore.

Or at least, that's what I told myself.