Unexpected Reunion

Killian’s POV

The scent of freshly brewed espresso mixed with sterile office air slapped me as I stepped into the glass building. Towering over the skyline, the headquarters of Scott Enterprises was a palace of corporate power, something I’d never imagined I’d be a part of. I adjusted the collar of my fitted blazer, my palms damp despite the air-conditioning.

This job was supposed to be a fresh start. I’d graduated with honors, my resume stacked with internships and academic achievements. I wanted to prove myself without handouts, without drama. But the moment I saw the company logo, a small pit had begun to form in my stomach. Scott. The name brought a memory like a slap Emma.

I hadn’t seen her since graduation.

Our last night together had felt like an ending. The kind of goodbye that burned into your memory and refused to fade. We hadn’t exchanged numbers, hadn’t made promises. Just intense, reckless sex and the unspoken weight of something real neither of us dared to acknowledge.

Now I was standing in the lion’s den.

“Killian Thomas?” A sharply dressed woman approached, offering a polite smile. “Welcome to Scott Enterprises. We’re excited to have you on the Strategy Team. I’ll show you to your office.”

Office? Not a cubicle? My brows furrowed, but I said nothing as I followed her through the sleek hallways.

The moment we turned the corner, I froze.

There she was.

Emma Scott, leaning against a desk, legs crossed elegantly in an emerald green dress that hugged her curves like sin. Her laugh was light and effortless, aimed at a colleague who clearly didn’t know who he was dealing with. And then her eyes found mine.

Time stopped.

Her smile faltered.

Emma Scott was no longer a fantasy of my university years. She was real, right here. And she worked here.

The woman beside me didn’t notice the tension, thankfully. “That’s Ms. Scott. She’s our marketing lead. You’ll be working with her directly on the new brand initiative.”

Of course I would.

Emma’s eyes darkened, her chin lifting with defiant elegance. She walked toward me slowly, like a predator circling her prey. When she stopped in front of me, I was acutely aware of every breath.

“Killian,” she said, voice low and smooth. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Likewise,” I replied, my throat tight.

“You’re in for a hell of a first week.”

Yeah. No kidding.

Emma’s POV

The universe had a cruel sense of humor.

Of all the candidates my father’s HR department could’ve hired, it had to be him. Killian Thomas my college nemesis turned secret lover turned… nothing. We hadn’t spoken in months. I’d spent the summer trying to forget the way he touched me, kissed me, made me feel things I had no business feeling.

And now? He was working under me. Technically. In my department. In my building. In my line of sight.

I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to throw him against the office door or shove him out of the nearest window.

He looked different. Sharper. More confident in that suit. Less like the boy I used to torment and more like the man who’d ruined me in a locked library.

And he was acting like none of it ever happened.

The nerve.

As soon as our little reunion ended, I stormed into my office and slammed the door. I paced in front of the massive windows, heart pounding. I wasn’t ready for this. I wasn’t ready for him.

Because the truth was… I’d missed him.

And that scared the hell out of me.

Killian’s POV

The next few days passed in a blur of meetings and strategic brainstorming sessions. Emma and I barely acknowledged each other outside of formal settings. She acted like I was just another employee, another cog in the machine. And I followed her lead, though it gnawed at me.

But the air between us was charged. Every glance, every brush of skin, every pause in our conversations—it was all laced with something unsaid.

And then Friday came.

It was late, the office dimmed and empty. Everyone else had gone home. I stayed to finish a proposal, telling myself it was purely professional.

Until she walked in.

Emma shut the door behind her and leaned against it, arms crossed, eyes unreadable.

“You’ve done well,” she said softly. “Impressive strategy outline.”

“Thanks.” I stood slowly, closing my laptop. “Didn’t expect a compliment.”

Her eyes flicked to mine. “Don’t get used to it.”

Silence fell again, thick with tension. Then she stepped forward.

“You’ve been ignoring me.”

“No,” I said. “I’ve been surviving.”

Her eyes narrowed, but her breath hitched. “So that’s what we’re doing now? Pretending none of it happened?”

I took a step closer. “You walked away too.”

“Because I thought we agreed it was over after graduation.”

“Did we?”

Another step. Her breath hitched.

We were inches apart now.

And then she whispered, “I can’t stop thinking about that night.”

Neither could I.

I grabbed her waist, yanked her flush against me, and kissed her like I’d been starving for it. Her arms wrapped around my neck, nails digging into my skin, and she moaned into my mouth.

It was reckless.

It was dangerous.

It was inevitable.

And we both knew we were far from over.