Chapter 14: Chapter 14
The office air was a stale, recycled chill, a stark contrast to the warm twilight they’d left on the rooftop. The hum of servers and the click-clack of keyboards formed a monotonous backdrop. Vanshika sat at her desk, trying to focus on the lines of code blurring on her screen, but her mind was replaying the feel of Rohan’s weight in her arms, the startled grip of his hands on her shoulders.
He was in his glass-walled office, visible but distant. He hadn’t looked at her once since they’d walked in together, the space between them charged with an unspoken conversation. Priya, from her adjacent desk, caught Vanshika’s eye and mimed fainting, fanning her face dramatically. Vanshika rolled her eyes but felt a smile tug at her lips.
Her phone buzzed on the desk. A message from Rohan.
Don’t look now, but I think Priya is taking notes.
Vanshika’s thumbs flew over her screen. For her romance novel? Chapter 4: The Bridal Carry.
More like a field guide. ‘How to Identify Workplace Superhumans.’
She laughed, a soft sound lost in the office din. She chanced a glance his way. He was looking at his phone, a faint, real smile on his face. It was a start.
The morning crawled by. Every time their paths crossed—at the coffee machine, in the hallway leading to the print room—a current passed between them, a silent acknowledgment of the shift. He’d hold her gaze a second too long. She’d brush past him, feeling the solid warmth of his arm through his shirt sleeve.
During the team stand-up, he was all business, his voice soft but firm as he delegated tasks. But when he handed her a updated requirements document, his fingers lingered on the paper, just beside hers. “This one’s a bit of a beast,” he said, his voice low, for her alone. “Might require your… particular skill set.”
“I think I can handle it,” she murmured back, her pulse kicking up a notch.
By lunch, the tension was a live wire. He finally approached her desk, his hands shoved in his pockets, a gesture she now recognized as his tell for nervousness. “Hey. You hungry? We could… grab something from the cafeteria? Talk about the project?”
It was the same excuse, the same safe territory. But the look in his eyes was new. It was asking a different question entirely.
“Sure,” she said, pushing back from her chair. “The project.”
They found a small table in a relatively quiet corner of the bustling cafeteria, the clatter of trays and the murmur of a hundred conversations surrounding them. He picked at his salad. She took a determined bite of her sandwich.
“About last night,” he started, then stopped, struggling for the words.
“Which part?” she asked, her tone gentle. “The part where Priya ambushed us, or the part where I picked you both up like grocery bags?”
A faint blush returned to his cheeks. “The part after. What I said. In my bedroom.” He finally looked at her, his brown eyes earnest. “I didn’t mean to scare you off.”
“You didn’t scare me,” she said, putting her sandwich down. “You surprised me. It was a big word to just… drop into the room.”
“I know. It just… came out. It felt like the right shape for what I was feeling, but it was too soon. I know that.” He let out a slow breath. “I’m not great at this. The talking part.”
“You’re doing okay right now,” she offered.
He gave a small, grateful smile. “It’s just… this thing with us. It doesn’t feel like a side project. It feels… critical.”
The way he used their work terminology, so earnest and specific, made her heart twist. She reached across the table and covered his hand with hers. His fingers were cool. He turned his palm up to meet hers, lacing their fingers together. It was a mirror of their hidden touch under the conference table, but here, in the open, it felt like a declaration.
“It does to me, too,” she said softly.
The relief that washed over his features was palpable. The tightness around his eyes vanished. He squeezed her hand. “So. We’re okay?”
“We’re better than okay.”
They finished their lunch, the conversation easing into easier topics—a frustrating bug in her code, a new series everyone was talking about. The weight was gone, replaced by a comfortable, buzzing warmth.
Back at their corner of the open floor, as they were about to split towards their respective desks, he stopped her with a light touch on her elbow.
“Vanshika.”
She turned.
He stepped closer, into her space. The office sounds faded into a dull roar. He was right there, his kind eyes searching hers. He leaned in, his voice a whisper meant only for her. “Next time, just warn me before you decide to lift the entire world, okay?”
Then, before she could reply, before anyone could see, he bent his head and pressed a quick, soft kiss to her cheek. It was over in a second. A spark of contact, the faint scent of his soap, a warmth that bloomed on her skin.
He pulled back, his own cheeks flushed, and walked towards his office without another word.
Vanshika stood frozen for a moment, the imprint of his lips a brand on her face. She touched the spot with her fingertips, a slow smile spreading that she couldn’t have contained if she tried.
From her desk, Priya caught her eye again. This time, she didn’t tease. She just gave a single, solid, approving nod.
Vanshika sat down, the code on her screen still a blur. But now, it was a happy blur. The project was on track. And for the first time, she let herself truly believe that this one was going to be a success.