I took this job because I needed stability-structure-quiet.What I didn't need was Boris Coleman.My work rival. My daily migraine. The infuriating ex-military perfectionist who corrects my emails, steals my ideas, and glares like breathing near him is a personal offense.It doesn't matter that he's handsome in that stoic, broad-shouldered, ruin-my-life way.Or that his voice sounds like whiskey poured over ice.Or that he's secretly kind when no one's looking.He's rigid, stubborn, judgy-everything I swore I'd never fall for.And yet I can't stop noticing him.The office says we balance each other-his discipline, my creativity.What they don't know is that every argument leaves me breathless… and every accidental touch sets me on fire.He's the locked door, and I'm the one desperate for the key.He's the storm, and I'm already standing in the rain.I shouldn't want him.He shouldn't look at me like that.But somewhere between the snark, the stolen glances, and the competition…I stopped hating Boris Coleman.Now I'm terrified I've started loving him.And winning this rivalry might mean losing him forever.
