They walked in silence, their footsteps crunching against the gravel, and Claire felt something she hadn't felt in a long time—ease. Not the kind that comes from being alone, but the kind that sneaks in when you're with someone who doesn't expect you to perform.
As Jake pointed out constellations—badly, she noted—Claire let her mind wander.
She had always been the one with walls. Not because she enjoyed solitude, but because it felt safer than disappointment. Her twenties had taught her plenty: that people leave, that feelings shift, that showing too much means giving someone a blueprint of how to break you.
And yet, here she was. Letting a coworker with a sarcastic streak and a tragic taste in plaid shirts make her laugh under the stars.
She hadn't planned this.
She didn't even believe in this kind of thing—spontaneous connection, slow-burn flirtations that start with group chats and end with late-night walks.
But it was happening anyway.
Maybe it was the wine. Or the fresh air. Or the way Jake said her name like it wasn't just another syllable.
Claire wasn't falling. She wouldn't call it that.
But she was leaning. Just a little.
And maybe, just this once, she didn't mind the risk.
Jake had always been the guy who kept things light. A joke here, a meme there. He knew how to deflect with charm and sarcasm—it worked in the office, it worked at parties, and it especially worked when he wasn't sure what he was feeling.
But tonight, under the heavy quiet of pine trees and a moon bright enough to matter, he wasn't deflecting. Not with Claire.
She surprised him. Always had.
When she joined the company six months ago, he'd expected another too-cool-for-this marketing manager who'd dodge team lunches and passive-aggressively edit everyone's slides. And for a while, she was exactly that—dry-witted, guarded, armed with coffee and perfectly timed eye-rolls.
But then came the raccoon GIF. The group chat. The gas station. And this walk.
Now he didn't know what to expect. And that unsettled him more than he wanted to admit.
Claire didn't flirt the way others did. She didn't overshare. She didn't soften to fit in. And yet… there was something real in the way she looked at him. Like she was really looking. Not through him. Not around him. At him.
He wasn't sure what to do with that.
He wasn't sure he deserved it.
Jake had his own set of rules—ones that involved not getting attached, not overthinking things, not dragging the past into something that could maybe become… more. But Claire didn't fit into rules. She disrupted them. Quietly. Cleverly. Almost accidentally.
And now he was stuck wondering what the hell this weekend was turning into.
He looked over at her, walking beside him, arms tucked into her hoodie sleeves. Claire caught his gaze and gave him that small, sideways smile—the kind that hinted at mischief and mystery all at once.
Jake smiled back.
Yep. He was in trouble.