The One Where I Flirt at the Office (And Remember Why Carly Terrifies Me)

Charlie

There's something about the office.

The sharp suits. The polished floors. The click of heels on marble. The way everything smells like leather, ambition, and overpriced cologne.

It's clean. Controlled. Predictable.

Unlike the chaotic, leggy hurricane currently occupying my apartment and half my mental bandwidth.

So yeah, I like the office.

Here, I can breathe. Pretend. Be me.

CEO Charlie.

The one who gives orders. Closes deals. And flirts because it's easy, and harmless, and doesn't end in anyone burning my bed sheets because some girl dared sit on them.

Or… so I thought.

---

I'm three sips into my second coffee and skimming the quarterly vendor contract when the door opens.

"Morning, Mr. Trentford."

Her name is Tessa. New. Marketing department. Bright red nails and a pencil skirt that defies laws of physics. She walks in with the confidence of someone who knows exactly how good her ass looks in that skirt.

And today?

Her blouse is unbuttoned just enough to break HR guidelines in three countries.

She walks to my desk, file in hand, voice syrupy sweet.

"I've got the updated campaign pitch you asked for."

I nod, gesturing for her to set it down.

She doesn't.

Instead?

She leans forward.

Not a polite forward.

Not a "here's your file" forward.

More like a bend-at-the-waist, boobs-meet-desk, vanilla-meets-cinnamon kind of forward.

I look, I'm a man. I look.

Just a glance, a quick, respectful... okay, maybe not that respectful.

She smiles. She saw it.

"Want me to walk you through it?" she asks, still leaning.

Her voice dips a little lower on "walk."

I take a breath. Deep. Slow.

Try not to picture Carly storming in with a flamethrower.

Tessa shifts closer. "Or do you prefer private presentations?"

Christ.

I lean back, tilt my head. Flash the grin that's made interns faint and investors cave.

"Tessa," I say. "What's your angle here?"

She blinks. "Excuse me?"

"I mean, I already know the file's solid. You're smart. Sharp. Ambitious."

I let my eyes drift—just briefly. "But bending over my desk? That's a whole different strategy."

She laughs. "Maybe I thought you'd appreciate the initiative."

I smirk. "I do. Always."

I say it low. Velvet and sin.

Her pupils dilate.

There it is.

That moment—right before someone leans in too far and forgets this is a workplace and not a luxury penthouse with silk sheets and zero regrets.

Which… isn't helping me right now.

Because I'm hard.

Yeah.

Not fully. But enough to be aware of it. Enough to remember what it used to be like—before Carly moved in, before my life became a minefield of emotions and unspoken tension and suppressed hunger.

Tessa bites her lip and that's when I hear it.

In my head.

Carly's voice.

"You're gonna wreck me, Charlie."

Suddenly, my entire body goes still because that voice?

It doesn't sound like a memory.

It sounds like a warning.

---

I stand up. Fast. Smooth. Alpha-mode.

"Tessa," I say. "Thanks for the pitch. I'll go over it personally later."

Her expression falters. "Oh. I—okay."

I walk around the desk. Lean in—close enough to smell her perfume. Vanilla.

Carly hates vanilla. Says it's "boring." Wears sandalwood and chaos instead.

"Word of advice?" I murmur.

She nods, eyes hopeful.

"Don't play with fire if you're not ready to burn."

Then I smile. Soft. Killer. Dangerous.

And I walk away.

---

I lock myself in my private bathroom.

Run cold water over my wrists.

Stare into the mirror like it might slap sense into me.

Because the truth?

I'm not scared of Tessa.

Or HR. Or the consequences of office flirtation.

I've been doing this since college.

I'm good at it.

No.

What I'm scared of…

Is Carly.

Because I could've slept with Tessa.

Easily. Quick. Mindless.

No strings.

And yet? I didn't, because I keep hearing her voice in my head.

Seeing her in my shirts.

Waking up next to her.

Breathing her name when I—

Fuck.

I grip the sink harder.

This is exactly why I shouldn't love her. I hurt people.

I flirt. I forget. I ruin things.

Carly?

She's real. Deep. She knows me too well.

I don't want to break her.

I don't want to be the reason she stops snorting when she laughs.

And maybe…

Maybe that's why I've been pulling away.

Because wanting her?

Is starting to feel less like a fantasy…

And more like fate.

And that scares the shit out of me.