quickly, quickly

8

The gallery was already alive with activity, the quiet chaos of preparations for tonight's gala humming around me. Assistants bustled between rooms, adjusting lighting, checking placements, and finalizing the catering setup. My phone buzzed on the desk where I had been half-heartedly reviewing the evening's schedule. I glanced at the screen and saw Tyler's name flash across it.

"Hope your morning's going okay. Don't stress too much about tonight—it's going to be amazing. Love you."

The corner of my mouth lifted into a small smile. Tyler always knew the right thing to say, even when I didn't deserve it. I pictured him at work, probably hunched over his computer, headphones on, that little furrow of concentration on his brow. He believed in me more than anyone, more than I believed in myself most days.

I started typing a response: "Thanks, babe. Love you too. I wish you could see everything..." but a knock at the door pulled me away.

"Josh, you in here?" Brendon's voice rang out as he stepped inside without waiting for an answer.

I quickly locked my phone and slid it into my pocket, feeling the shift in the air the moment Brendon entered. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, his sharp suit perfectly tailored, his tie slightly loosened in that annoyingly casual way he always managed to pull off.

"Lighting's all set in the east wing," he said, his tone light but his eyes fixed on me. "Thought you'd want to check it out before the donors arrive."

I nodded, trying to focus. "Yeah, good idea. I'll head over in a minute."

Brendon didn't move. Instead, he pushed off the door and walked toward me, his steps slow and deliberate. My pulse quickened, and I hated myself for it. "You okay? You look... tense," he said, his voice dipping just enough to make it feel more like a challenge than concern.

"I'm fine," I said, too quickly, standing up and straightening my jacket. "Just a lot on my plate today."

Brendon smirked, that infuriatingly confident expression that seemed to peel away every layer of my resolve. "You always say that, but I think I know what's really bothering you."

"Brendon," I warned, my tone sharper than I intended. "We don't have time for this right now. The gala's in a few hours."

He ignored me, stepping closer until the space between us was nearly nonexistent. I could feel the heat radiating off him, the faint scent of his cologne filling the room. My heart hammered in my chest, and I forced myself to take a step back, but he followed, his hand brushing against mine.

"Come on, Josh," he murmured, his voice low and smooth. "You've been wound up for weeks. Let me help you... unwind."

I opened my mouth to protest, but the words caught in my throat as his hand moved to my waist, pulling me closer. My mind screamed at me to stop, to push him away, to remember Tyler's text still sitting unanswered in my pocket. But when Brendon leaned in, his lips hovering just inches from mine, reason slipped through my fingers like sand.

The kiss was fire and hunger, a collision of everything I couldn't admit I wanted. My hands gripped his shoulders, pulling him impossibly closer, and for a moment, the world outside the office disappeared. All the guilt, the tension, the fear—it evaporated under the intensity of his touch.

"Josh," he murmured against my lips, his voice rough with need. His hands trailed down my back, igniting every nerve in their path.

My breath hitched, my mind a chaotic mess of desire and self-loathing. I broke away for a second, gasping for air, but Brendon didn't let me go. "You don't have to fight this," he said, his eyes dark and unwavering. "You know it feels right."

It didn't. Not really. But at that moment, it was impossible to remember why.

He began to move his hand from my waist to the front of my pants. The warmth of his hand was electrifying. He began to mess with my belt attempting to undo it and I wasn't stopping him. 

The knock at the door shattered the spell. Emily's voice filtered through, polite but urgent. "Josh? The caterers need your approval on the wine selections."

Brendon stepped back, smoothing his suit as though nothing had happened. My chest heaved, and I forced myself to straighten, to fix my tie and smooth my hair.

"Guess you've got work to do," he said, his smirk firmly in place. "Don't keep them waiting."

As he left, I stood frozen, my thoughts a jumbled mess. My phone buzzed again in my pocket, and I pulled it out to see another message from Tyler.

"Don't forget to eat something today. I love you."

Guilt crashed over me like a wave, but I couldn't bring myself to respond. Instead, I shoved the phone back into my pocket and headed out of the office, trying to drown out the echoes of what had just happened.