Heart Over Heels

Chapter 8

The day had turned into one of those unexpectedly bright autumn afternoons when the sun seemed to hang low in the sky, casting a golden glow through the office windows.

I sat at my desk, my fingers gliding effortlessly over the keyboard as I worked through some emails. Yet, my mind wasn’t entirely on my task. It kept drifting back to Max, to the way his voice sounded this morning—smooth, deep, and comforting, like a warm blanket on a cold day.

Over the past couple of weeks, something had shifted between us. It was subtle, like the slow turning of the seasons, but undeniable.

The stolen glances, the lingering moments, the way his presence filled a room—I was starting to notice all the small details. Max had always been confident, bold even, but now there was something more.

I found myself looking at him longer than I should, noticing the angles of his face, the quiet intensity in his stormy gray eyes.

Max, with his strong jawline and perfectly tousled dark hair, was the kind of man who turned heads without trying. His sharp features softened when he smiled, but there was an edge to him, something untouchable, as if he carried secrets behind his calm demeanor.

I had heard about men like him before—Sigma males, the ones who didn’t follow societal expectations, didn’t need to be the loudest in the room but commanded attention effortlessly. Max embodied that in every way, and it intrigued me more than I cared to admit.

Today, though, something different stood out to me. I couldn’t stop staring at the slight scruff lining his jaw, the way it added a ruggedness to his otherwise polished appearance.

His lips, though firm when he spoke, had a softness to them that made my breath catch every time I caught myself staring. And his eyes—those hues, baby blue eyes that seemed to shift between warmth and a cold, calculating sharpness—felt like they could see right through me.

I shook my head, trying to focus back on the screen, but the fluttering in my chest persisted. How could I think about work when my thoughts kept wandering to the way his voice had dropped a little lower when he asked me about my day earlier?
Or the way his gaze had lingered on my lips just a little too long when we shared a coffee in the break room? I bit my lip, trying to steady my racing heart. He’s just being friendly, I told myself.

But deep down, I knew something was happening between us. And that terrified me.

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Max's POV:

I leaned back in my chair, glancing through the glass walls of my office at Emma, who was sitting at her desk, oblivious to my gaze.

There was something different about her today, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Over the last few weeks, I had noticed how she was slowly coming out of her shell—her once-shy demeanor giving way to a quiet confidence that intrigued me.

I admired the way she carried herself, how she moved with purpose, even when she wasn’t sure of herself. Emma had a softness about her, a gentleness that contrasted with the hard, driven people I was used to working with.
Yet, beneath that gentleness, there was a strength, a resilience that drew me in. Her chestnut-brown hair framed her face perfectly, cascading in soft waves over her shoulders, and her emerald green eyes had a depth to them that made me want to unravel every mystery behind them.

It wasn’t just her physical appearance that captivated me. It was her spirit—the way she approached everything with sincerity, the way she listened intently, the way her laughter, rare as it was, lit up a room. Is this because she's a writer feels every emotion in a manner??