Chapter 8: Apartment Reverberations
AVA’S POV
Morning light seeped through the blinds, slashing across my crumpled sheets. I sprang upright in bed, with racing heart. My lips still tingled from his kiss, not a memory, but something that still glowed on my skin. I brushed them gently with trembling fingers.
Julian's kiss wasn't soft or sweet. It was hard, deep, and crushing like he needed me. Like I belonged to him. My face grew warm, even in solitude. It had happened. The way he looked at me, the way he grabbed my wrist, the way his mouth devoured my own like it was the only thing keeping him alive, it was real.
And then. the denial. "This never happened."
I swallowed. My body was wiser than that. My heart definitely was. How could I possibly be at work today? See those piercing, impossible eyes and pretend everything was okay?
The recollection crept over me like static, hot and charged, a mix of fear and excitement. Forbidden. Daring. Impossible to forget.
The Sterling lobby buzzed. Bodies shifted quickly, faces averted, fingers tapping rapidly on phones, focused on their own chaotic existence. I wrapped my scarf closely around my neck, bent head, hiding.
Just reach the elevator. Catch your breath.
But I knew. The air became colder, more biting. Julian. He was near.
I didn't have to look at him to know. I felt him moving through the crowds as if a knife cutting through water. My breath froze.
Look at me. Just once. Tell me last night wasn't something I dreamed.
He walked by.
His eyes flitted over me like I was some furniture in the room. Nothing. No pause. No change in his expression. No flicker of knowledge. My heart thrashed against my ribcage. The scent of mint and cedar slammed into me like a slap.
The silence of it stung. My hands tightened on my scarf, nails digging into palm. I brushed the tears pricking in my eyes away. Never happened. Right.
The hope I'd brought home last night, the stupid, warm, fluttering hope shattered right open. And then broke.
Work was like punishment. The ping of emails, the buzz of messages, it all buzzed around me, but nothing could take away the void ache inside. I opened my inbox.
Julian's kiss burns against me. I remember his reaction, it was short.
"This never happened."
Those three words hurt like tiny knives.
Had any of it been genuine? The blaze in his eyes when he stood up for me to Victoria? The coarsening of his tone? Or had it all been control, a moment of weakness he at once regretted?
I pressed myself into my screen. Floor plans. Drafts. Angles and walls. Something, anything to overwhelm the chaos inside me.
I hadn't even noticed his assistant until she stood at my desk.
"Mr. Sterling needs you in his office. You're working with Caleb on the Montclair Library project."
Work. That was the only thing that made sense.
Relief swept over me. Work was safe. Work was easy. I could handle work.
But Caleb?
I blinked, bewildered. Caleb. Gentle, creative Caleb. His warm brown eyes and quiet resolve had always comforted me. But this? It felt like a shift. A change in the script.
Was Julian pushing me aside? Or passing me on?
I went into Julian's office like a storm. Caleb was there in front of me, leaning on the tall, black desk like it was a wall. Julian sat behind it, far out of reach.
His eyes failed to meet mine. He stared at the blueprints on his desk like they were more important than the two of us.
"Thompson," he said, his voice without feeling or softening.
Thompson. Not Ava.
"Take the Montclair Library project," he continued. "You and Caleb have three weeks to produce concept mock-ups."
He did not even look at me, though. He nodded once at Caleb. "Your engineering concepts are sound." Then, briefly, for perhaps less than a second, his eyes flicked in my direction. "Your. design capabilities are an asset to the vision. Work together. Make it happen.".
I swallowed hard. "Yes, Mr. Sterling," I said, attempting to be firm.
"Absolutely," Caleb replied beside me. His smile was soft, his voice low. "I've seen Ava's designs. They're genius."
Julian's gaze shifted from Caleb's face to mine.
His expression wasn't empty anymore. It was… keen. Observant. Measuring.
This wasn't a task. It was something else.
It felt like being handed over. A silent farewell.
Julian had picked Caleb, good, safe, charming Caleb and pushed me in his direction. As if he was saying: Here. Go with him. Leave me alone.
The words stung. They locked something in me.
Caleb and I stepped out side by side. The elevator doors clanked shut, trapping Julian inside.
Caleb came up close, his tone soft. "I mean it. I'm actually really excited to work with you. Your designs on Hudson Yards were incredible."
His tone was nice. Soft. I smiled, appreciative.
But when we rounded the corner to the design studio, I got this pull in my chest. Like something was tugging me back.
I turned.
Through the small gap in the frosted glass doors, I could see him.
Julian.
He wasn't writing. He wasn't working.
He was looking at us.
His face was stiff, unyielding. But his eyes… they burned.
For a single second, our eyes locked.
And then the doors closed.
I flinched when Caleb gently touched my elbow.
"Ava? You're okay, right? You look as if you've seen a ghost."
I forced a weak smile. "Yeah. Just… thinking about load-bearing walls."
The lie stung.
Inside, I could still feel the cold touch of Julian's lips on mine. The look he'd shared with me. The absence today. My hands shook over the blueprints in my hand.
Julian had drawn a line.
And Caleb?
He was like an escape ship. A life raft.
But Julian's silence screamed. His look, thundered.
Was he rescuing me?
Or was I stepping into another heartbreak?
All I was sure of was this:
My chest still ached.
And the pull within me, that impossible pull towards Julian Sterling hadn't gone away.
