MELISSA'S POV
I opened my eyes to soft light and quiet.
Then the realization hit.
I was still here.
Still in his house.
Still in his hoodie.
I sat up fast.
My clothes were folded neatly at the edge of the bed. I didn't remember doing that.
I didn't care.
I got up, grabbed them, and changed quickly, yanking the hoodie off like it had caught fire. My own jeans felt stiff against my skin, but at least they were mine.
I didn't bother folding his clothes back.
I just placed them on the bed, grabbed my bag, and moved toward the door.
I could hear faint sounds from the kitchen — the soft clink of a mug. Movement. Music playing low.
I didn't plan to say goodbye.
I didn't owe him anything.
I just wanted out.
I was halfway to the front door when his voice cut through the silence.
"Well, good morning to you too."
I stopped.
He was leaning against the counter, coffee mug in hand, wearing that same smug expression like he knew I was trying to sneak out.
"Didn't think you were the type to ghost," he added.
"I'm not ghosting," I said flatly.
"Sure looked like it."
I crossed my arms. "What do you want, Xavier?"
He took a sip of coffee and shrugged. "Thought maybe you'd at least pretend to be civil."
"I didn't ask to be here."
"No, but you stayed."
"It was raining."
"And now it's not."
"Exactly."
I moved toward the door again.
"Come sit," he said, more playful this time. "I made toast. You're not leaving on an empty stomach, are you?"
I turned back slowly.
He was still smirking.
I hated that it worked.
"…Fine," I muttered.
I sat on the far side of the counter. He pushed a plate toward me.
Two slices of toast. Black coffee. No milk, no sugar — just how I liked it.
I looked up.
He raised an eyebrow. "You're welcome."
I didn't say thank you.
I just ate quietly, keeping my gaze low.
"You always this friendly in the morning?" he asked.
"Shut up and don't fuck with me."
He laughed under his breath.
I didn't.
"You're something else," he said.
"I know."
We sat in silence for a minute. The only sound was the clink of his spoon against his mug.
When I stood, he spoke again.
"I'll drive you."
"No."
He blinked. "Wow. Not even fake hesitation."
"I can go on my own."
"I figured that. Still offering."
"Why?"
"Because you're walking around in my morning, looking like you'd rather chew glass than talk to me. I might as well make sure you don't freeze to death on the way."
"I'll be fine."
"I'll drive," he said again, final this time.
I sighed.
He smiled.
I hated that it was so easy for him.
So I said nothing.
Just followed him to the door.
The ride was silent.
Xavier didn't speak.
He just focused on the road, one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on the gear like this wasn't the most awkward situation we'd ever been in.
I stared out the window, watching the buildings blur past.
I didn't owe him conversation.
And he didn't ask for it.
Good.
My phone buzzed in my lap. I glanced down.
Marco.
I picked up.
"Hey."
"Melissa!" His voice was sharp — not angry, but urgent. "Can you come to the agency? Right now."
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing bad. Just… come. Bring Xavier with you."
I blinked. "What?"
"Trust me. It's better if he's there too."
I glanced sideways at Xavier. His eyes were still on the road.
"I'm already with him," I said quietly.
There was a pause.
"Oh."
Then:
"Even better. Come in, please. Now."
He hung up.
Fifteen minutes later, we walked into the company's building side by side — but not together.
There was a good six inches between us. I made sure of it.
Marco met us in the hallway.
He looked bright as usual, but there was something behind his smile.
Excitement? Stress?
Then he frowned.
"Melissa," he said, stepping closer. "Why are you in the same outfit from yesterday?"
I froze.
He looked me up and down — not judging, just… noticing.
I could feel Xavier beside me, very much not commenting.
"I, um—" I cleared my throat. "I crashed. At a friend's place."
Marco raised an eyebrow. "Did you come here with Xavier together?"
"I—" I shifted. "Yes."
Xavier spoke for the first time. "You needed both of us?"
Marco nodded quickly. "Yes, yes. Come inside."
Xavier started to turn away.
"It's not my business," he muttered.
Marco grabbed his arm lightly. "It concerns you too."
Xavier stopped.
I raised a brow. "What's going on?"
Marco pushed open a glass door and gestured for us to sit.
We did — on opposite sides of the couch, of course.
He sat across from us, folded his hands, and exhaled like he was about to pitch a fire.
"This may sound crazy," Marco started, "but the board had a meeting this morning."
I frowned. "Okay?"
"They've reviewed the footage. The chemistry. The energy between you two."
My stomach twisted.
"No one's ever tested this high in years," he added. "The engagement rate from your first photo drop is insane."
I crossed my arms. "What does that have to do with us?"
Marco smiled.
"The company wants you two to fake date."