Mark & Alex
Chapter 3
Alex's POV
I didn't sleep. Not really.
I lay on my back, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling, listening to a house that breathed differently at night. It wasn't loud. It wasn't empty either. Just... watchful. Like it knew who belonged and who didn't.
And I was still figuring out where I fit.
Mark Windsor's words from dinner replayed in my head not the obvious ones, but the pauses. The way his gaze lingered a second too long. The way his voice softened when he wasn't issuing commands or talking numbers.
You're family. Of course it's okay.
That shouldn't have mattered to me.
But it did.
I rolled onto my side and groaned quietly, pressing my face into the pillow. This was ridiculous. He was my mum's boss. He owned the house I was sleeping in. He was intimidating, older, and completely out of my league in ways I didn't even want to list.
And yet...
There it was again. That pull. Subtle. Uninvited.
I checked my phone. Past midnight.
Eventually, hunger or maybe restlessness won. I slipped out of bed, pulling on a hoodie and stepping quietly into the hallway. The lights were dimmed, but the kitchen glow was still on. Mum must've left it that way out of habit.
I padded down the stairs, bare feet silent on polished wood.
The kitchen felt different at night. Softer. Less like a workplace and more like a shared secret. I poured myself a glass of water, leaning against the counter as I drank.
"You're up late."
I nearly choked.
I turned sharply.
Mark stood in the doorway, hair slightly disheveled now, suit replaced with a dark T-shirt and lounge pants. He looked... human. Less CEO. More man.
"Sorry," I said quickly. "Didn't mean to disturb anything."
"You didn't," he replied. "I couldn't sleep."
Of course he couldn't.
I gestured weakly to the glass in my hand. "Water run."
He nodded, stepping further inside. "Mind if I join you?"
"It's your kitchen," I said. "I'm the guest."
"You live here now," he said calmly. "That makes it ours."
There it was again. That careful inclusion. It unsettled me more than distance ever could.
He leaned against the opposite counter, arms loosely crossed. The silence stretched but not awkwardly. More like both of us were deciding whether to fill it.
"So," I said, because I couldn't help myself. "Do you always stalk the kitchen at night?"
His mouth curved faintly. "Only when I suspect culinary crimes."
"Disappointed?" I asked.
"I haven't tasted anything yet."
I scoffed. "Rude."
He chuckled. Actually chuckled. The sound was low, brief but real. It hit me straight in the chest.
Oh. That's dangerous.
"Can't sleep?" I asked, softer now.
"No," he admitted. "My mind doesn't shut off easily."
"Work?"
"Life," he corrected.
I nodded. I understood that kind of exhaustion.
"I get that," I said. "After graduation, everything went quiet. Too quiet. Like... now what?"
He studied me then. Not assessing. Observing.
"You don't strike me as someone who stays still for long," he said.
"I don't like feeling useless."
"You're not," he said immediately.
The speed of the response caught us both off guard.
He cleared his throat. "Based on what I've seen."
"Which is... one meal and a debate about corporate ethics?"
"Enough to know potential when I see it."
My pulse jumped. "Careful. Compliments from you might go to my head."
He met my eyes. "You already have confidence. That's different."
Something shifted in the air.
I looked away first.
"Anyway," I said lightly, pushing off the counter. "I should go back before Mum wakes up and thinks I'm planning a midnight feast."
He nodded. "Goodnight, Alex."
"Goodnight, Mark."
I took two steps then hesitated.
"Hey," I added, glancing back. "Thanks. For earlier. For... welcoming me."
He didn't smile this time. His expression softened instead. "You're welcome."
I went back upstairs with my heart racing far too fast for a glass of water.
---
The next morning came too quickly.
I helped Mum prep breakfast like nothing had changed, but everything had. Mark joined us briefly before leaving for work, suit back in place, mask firmly on. If I didn't know better, I'd think the night before hadn't happened.
Except he paused at the door.
"Alex," he said.
I looked up. "Yeah?"
"Feel free to use the kitchen anytime."
Mum hid a smile.
"Careful," I replied. "You might regret that."
"I doubt it," he said and then he was gone.
I stood there longer than necessary, staring at the empty doorway.
I didn't know what this was.
But I knew one thing for sure.
Mark Windsor hadn't ordered that smile from me.
And yet he'd earned it.
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