I shrugged, setting my water bottle down. "Now? I guess I try to figure out what’s next. Keep things going, make sure the company keeps growing."
Selena studied for a mont before hopping off the counter. "That’s a very businessman answer."
I smirked. "What kind of answer were you expecting?"
She walked a little closer, arms crossed. "I don’t know. Sothing more... personal. Like, what you want. Not just for the company, but for yourself."
I hadn’t really thought about that in a while. Everything had been about the ga, about making sure it was a success, about proving to myself that I could do it. But now that it was a success, what did I want?
I exhaled, rubbing the back of my neck. "I guess I haven’t really figured that out yet."
She nodded, as if she understood. "Well, maybe you should. Otherwise, you’ll just keep chasing the next big thing without ever actually living."
Her words hit deeper than I expected, and for a mont, neither of us said anything.
Then she smiled, breaking the mont. "But hey, no pressure. You’ve still got ti to figure it out."
I chuckled. "Good to know."
She glanced at the ti on her phone. "I should probably head out soon."
I raised an eyebrow. "You sure? It’s late."
"I’ll be fine," she said, stretching her arms. "Besides, I don’t want you getting any ideas just because I ca back to your place."
I laughed. "Damn, you saw right through ."
She winked. "Gotta stay sharp."
I walked her to the door, and as she stepped out, she turned back. "Tonight was fun. We should do it again soti."
I leaned against the doorfra, nodding. "Yeah. We should."
She gave one last smile before heading off into the night, leaving standing there, wondering why I suddenly felt like I wanted to see her again.
---
A few minutes after she left, there was a knock on my door. I wasn’t expecting anyone, so I hesitated for a second before opening it.
To my surprise, Selena stood there. But this ti, she wasn’t smiling.
"You okay?" I asked, stepping aside to let her in.
She walked past , arms crossed, looking more annoyed than shaken. "I just got robbed," she said, like it was an everyday inconvenience.
"What?" My concern shot up instantly. "Here? How? What happened?"
She sighed, leaning against the wall. "So guy on a bike snatched my bag while I was walking down the street. Didn’t even see him coming."
I ran a hand through my hair. "Damn. Are you hurt?"
She shook her head. "No, just pissed off. My wallet, my phone... all gone."
I exhaled, already thinking of what to do next. "Alright, we should call the police—"
"Yeah," she cut in. "Not that it’ll help. By the ti they do anything, that guy will be long gone."
I clenched my jaw. She was probably right.
She let out another sigh and looked at . "So... I didn’t have anywhere else to go, do you mind if I crash here tonight? Just till I figure things out in the morning."
I t her gaze and nodded. "Yeah, of course. Stay as long as you need."
I glanced at the clock—11 p.m. I hadn’t realized how late it was. My stomach grumbled, reminding that I hadn’t eaten much since earlier in the evening.
"You hungry?" I asked, turning to Selena. "I was about to grab sothing to eat."
She tilted her head, considering for a mont. "Yeah, actually. I could eat."
"Cool. I’ll see what I’ve got," I said, heading toward the kitchen.
She followed, leaning against the counter as I checked the fridge. "So, what’s on the nu? Fine dining or struggle als?"
I smirked. "More like survival mode. Let’s see... eggs, bread, so leftover pasta—"
"That’ll do," she cut in. "You cook, or should I?"
I raised an eyebrow. "You offering to cook in my house after getting robbed? That’s impressive."
She shrugged. "I just need to do sothing that’ll help take it off my mind."
I laughed, stepping aside. "Alright, chef. Knock yourself out."
I hadn’t really paid attention to what she was wearing—at least, not until she stepped under the kitchen light.
A deep red dress, sleek and form-fitting, hugged her figure in all the right places. The fabric shimred slightly as she moved, the slit on the side revealing just enough of her toned leg to make my throat go dry. The neckline dipped tastefully, teasing without revealing too much, and the way it clung to her curves made it clear she knew exactly how good she looked.
I was staring. I knew it.
And from the small smirk playing on her lips as she stirred the pasta, I was sure she knew it too. But she didn’t say anything—just kept cooking like she hadn’t just turned my kitchen into a damn runway.
---
We sat at the small dining table, plates of pasta in front of us, the warm glow of the kitchen lights making everything feel oddly intimate. The conversation flowed effortlessly—she told about growing up in Vancouver, the places she loved, and how she sohow always found herself in the most ridiculous situations. I told her about my journey, carefully leaving out certain details, but she still seed impressed.
"You’re more interesting than I thought," she teased, twirling pasta around her fork.
"Oh? And what did you think?" I leaned forward, resting my elbow on the table.
She tilted her head, pretending to think. "Quiet, maybe a little broody. Definitely not soone who’d drop so of the worst pick-up lines I’ve ever heard."
I chuckled, shaking my head. "And yet, here we are."
"Here we are," she echoed, her voice softer this ti.
There was a pause—one of those charged monts where neither of us spoke, but everything was said. Her gaze flickered to my lips, and for a second, I thought I was imagining it. But then she leaned in just slightly, like she was testing the waters.
I closed the space between us.
The kiss was slow at first, like we were both figuring it out, but then it deepened. Her lips were soft, warm, and when her fingers lightly brushed against my jaw, a shiver ran through .
When we finally pulled away, she smiled. "Not bad," she murmured, her thumb grazing my lower lip.
I smirked. "Better than my pick-up lines?"
She laughed, shaking her head. "Much better."
And just like that, the night took a turn I hadn’t seen coming.
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